Those that know me have often heard
me talk about control, not control of a person or a group of people; but
control over what happens to me in my life. It took a lot to come to terms that
sometimes life just happens and things are actually meant to be released. Now,
I have the release part down perfect. If I don’t like you, poof! You’ve been
released. I may still talk to you, but trust me; you’ve been released…or have
you?
Growing up, my mom controlled everything.
Not only did she control everything, she sent my brother and me to a school
that commanded absolute control of everything. Mom controlled what we ate,
watched on TV, what time we went to bed, what time we got up, what we wore and
many other things. When I first started
school, they controlled what we wore. We had to wear skirts or dresses. That
changed around third grade to we could wear dress slacks (yep, that’s what they
called them then), but no jeans. Then it was we could wear jeans but they
couldn’t have the rivets on the pockets. God forbid they scratched up the
hardened plastic seats we sat in. School controlled when we ate, when we went
to the restroom, when we had recess (remember that?) and when we had P.E. They
even controlled when and how often we went to church and Sunday school by
taking attendance for it Monday morning. If I recall correctly, at the time,
you had to attend one or both a certain amount of times or it reflected in your
grade. I’d have to pull my report cards out from the dark ages to check for
sure.
By the time I got to high school,
mom still controlled a lot of things. She would take the phone to work with her
to keep me off the phone. What was my reaction to this? I had a computer called
ADAM at that time and I was able to hook that up to the phone line and still
make calls. I kept myself busy at school so I wasn’t home often, long enough to
sleep and eat. I believe my release started during this time. Mom was losing
control over making me get up Sunday mornings. I simply would sleep at a friend’s
house or just exercise what I thought was my freedom of speech. I guess that
message got through loud and clear because I no longer had to return to what I
considered a dungeon beneath the bowels of hell.
Mom is gone now and in a somewhat eerie
way I feel like I’ve finally come into my own. They say a woman doesn’t become
a woman until she loses her mom. I don’t really agree with that, I’ll just say
years of struggle and stress had been released; at least I thought it had.
Memories play a big role in control and release and for me, memory might as
well be a four letter word. Memories can be limited, sometimes I wish mine
were. I remember everything and pretty much anything a person says or does.
This is where the release part should come into play. Where is that darn
release lever!
I’ve been told I was controlling,
that was a while ago. Would you believe it still pisses me off? Firstly, I had
to consider the source and that about sums it up right there. Yet, I’m still
pissed by it. Why? Well, I look at myself as a person with super high standards
for my son and the people I deal with. My son once told me my standards were
too high. That’s coming from a member of the 2015 college graduating class. He was in
honors classes and maintained good grades throughout school and was a two sport
athlete. He was never in trouble with the law, he doesn’t have anyone walking
around calling him daddy and he shows much respect. Hmmm, standards I’ve set,
that young man has met. It wasn’t easy, but he did it. I had the honor of
sending that young man off to school with an academic and athletic scholarship.
I had the tears to prove it. People, having and setting standards does not
constitute control. I look at it as putting a road map in place and setting
attainable goals to paint that road map whatever color you choose. I had to let
go of my son and watch him continue his growth without my pushing, but knowing
he had the tools to take care of business. I had to release and breathe.
So, here is my idea of control; this is going to wrinkle some
feathers for sure. To me, and remember this is my opinion; you know what they
say about opinions. When you have no plans for your child to gain more
knowledge and allow them to sit under you because they can’t make a move
without you, that’s control. I had a friend who told me her and her husband had
no plans for their child to go to college because neither of them went. That
blew my mind, why would you not want your child to do better! When a person
wants to dictate what you do with your time in your own life, that’s control.
What makes that control? Try saying “no” to someone like that. That is the
quickest way to shut down a control freak, with a word they do not like to
hear. This is why they make sure they are surrounded by people who don’t know
any better. These are people that I have mentally released, that harkens back
to my first paragraph. A mental release is a bit different than completely
releasing a person from your very presence.
I think, or at least I’d like to think my mom didn’t mentally
break me because I was always so determined to break away. I knew I was more
intelligent than what she thought; I was doing her college homework and typing
it out when I was in fifth grade. I was determined to make sure my son made it
out, mainly because I never had that chance. I gave him what my mom didn’t give
me, freedom. He has the freedom to make his own choices, good or bad. I can
voice my opinion, but I also tell him he doesn’t have to agree. He’s been
taught to stand his ground and question everything. I’m from the time when you
didn’t speak up at home or in school. I’m sure you can imagine me staying in
trouble somewhere because of my mouth.
My overall point is this; wanting to see someone succeed is
not control. Holding them back because you don’t want to be alone is control.
You can’t mentally hold someone back then complain about everything that goes
on, that creates a mental oxymoron. If me setting high standards and expecting
them to be met is control, guilty as charged, but you are wrong. I also hold to
the greater knowledge that I have released him to the world without strings
attached. You can’t teach your little bird to fly then tell them they can only
fly the way YOU tell them. You can’t expect to hold friendships based on the
absurd inner thinking that you can control them and what goes on in their
households. Sometimes one needs to understand that it takes more control to
release. So to those that have called me a control freak, know that you have
been released. I may talk to you and make nice, but you are not an issue. I
control what goes on in my life and naysayers are a blip on the spectrum. One final thing to keep in mind…keep a look
out for those college graduation pictures. ~Just my two cents.
