Control addiction
Oct. 23rd, 2011 11:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabrinamariI think I have two posts in me today: one is about imposing control in relationships, and the other is about colonialism. Really, they are about the same exact thing expressed at two very different levels: the harm that inevitably emerges from one entity's all-encompassing attempts to control another, whether the entities involved are individuals or nations.
I've been thinking about this a lot over the last week or so, probably because I've been making arrangements to go home and I've also been been watching and listening as friends and dear ones around me attempt to grapple with their own control issues.
There's also another reason: I always look at things through the twin lenses of agency (or lack thereof) and resilience, because (together with compassion) they make up some of the most important concerns in my life.
Living with my mom, I discovered early on the absolute futility of attempting to control the behaviors and beliefs of others. My mother was the unlucky recipient of the kind of parenting that left her perpetually anxious, fearful and angry. What little I know about her own father makes me think he was a perfectionist with a strong tendency towards obsessive-compulsive behavior. And although she never speaks of it, I don't think it was an easy childhood. In the time I've known her, my mom has interwoven her love with a deep-set need to control the behavior of the people around her, especially those to whom she is most close. By attempting to control our choices, actions and even beliefs, she has tried, rather unsuccessfully, to keep herself safe from all the things that scare her. In so doing, she has pushed away almost everyone who loves her in one way or another.
And even after all these decades, she does not seem understand why her children are not as close to her as she would like, why her relationships are not as satisfying as she would hope, and why the same kinds of conflicts seem to emerge in her life over and over again.
After watching this dance for several decades, it is my belief that In things both small and large, attempts to control others will inevitably fail. They will never succeed at bringing those you love closer to you. They will, however, breed mistrust, keep you from developing resiliency, and push away those you love at the very moments in which you long for them the most.
The one thing I do not understand is how to communicate this in a way that can be easily heard and understood.
All around me, I see people in the grips of pain, loneliness and fear, tugging mercilessly at those they love. I see people imposing rules and boundaries on each other that cross the line from safety to insanity as they try, so very desperately, not to lose the love that makes their lives worthwhile. In so doing, they invariably drive that love away, just as my mother spent decades driving me and my brother away. And yet, they do not see it.
Perhaps this cannot be communicated, but only experienced. I do not know.
Wondering...
I've been thinking about this a lot over the last week or so, probably because I've been making arrangements to go home and I've also been been watching and listening as friends and dear ones around me attempt to grapple with their own control issues.
There's also another reason: I always look at things through the twin lenses of agency (or lack thereof) and resilience, because (together with compassion) they make up some of the most important concerns in my life.
Living with my mom, I discovered early on the absolute futility of attempting to control the behaviors and beliefs of others. My mother was the unlucky recipient of the kind of parenting that left her perpetually anxious, fearful and angry. What little I know about her own father makes me think he was a perfectionist with a strong tendency towards obsessive-compulsive behavior. And although she never speaks of it, I don't think it was an easy childhood. In the time I've known her, my mom has interwoven her love with a deep-set need to control the behavior of the people around her, especially those to whom she is most close. By attempting to control our choices, actions and even beliefs, she has tried, rather unsuccessfully, to keep herself safe from all the things that scare her. In so doing, she has pushed away almost everyone who loves her in one way or another.
And even after all these decades, she does not seem understand why her children are not as close to her as she would like, why her relationships are not as satisfying as she would hope, and why the same kinds of conflicts seem to emerge in her life over and over again.
After watching this dance for several decades, it is my belief that In things both small and large, attempts to control others will inevitably fail. They will never succeed at bringing those you love closer to you. They will, however, breed mistrust, keep you from developing resiliency, and push away those you love at the very moments in which you long for them the most.
The one thing I do not understand is how to communicate this in a way that can be easily heard and understood.
All around me, I see people in the grips of pain, loneliness and fear, tugging mercilessly at those they love. I see people imposing rules and boundaries on each other that cross the line from safety to insanity as they try, so very desperately, not to lose the love that makes their lives worthwhile. In so doing, they invariably drive that love away, just as my mother spent decades driving me and my brother away. And yet, they do not see it.
Perhaps this cannot be communicated, but only experienced. I do not know.
Wondering...
