A Note On Control

At times, I’ve been a victim. At other times, I’ve made myself into one.

The trick, I’ve found, is ensuring I don’t stay a victim in perpetuity. What happened to me is in the past — no matter how real or current it feels at times. No matter my triggers or my conditioned behaviors. No matter my setbacks. I lived it, and it was real, and sometimes it was terrifying.

But it is not who I am.

Sometimes, we have to go back and relive those memories so that we can understand what happened, give voice to our fears or pain, and maybe even take our power back.

But we must be careful not to get stuck in those memories.

We must not make of the past a skin for our present. We must hear it out, and then put it to bed.

I had to allow myself to be a victim in order to gain back control.

I’ve learned that control isn’t always a bad thing. It’s not always an illusion, and to desire control is not fooling yourself.

It’s wanting consistency in a life well-familiar with instability; safety in a world that can so often feel unsafe.

Control is the things we tell ourselves about what we’ve gone through.

We lose control when we take away our own agency. When we put ourselves down, question our sanity, or believe the ugly lies the uncompassionate mob chooses to spew.

We gain control when we do the brave and difficult work of finding triumph through acceptance — not acceptance of what was done to us (no, that will never be okay), but acceptance of ourselves while it was being done.

You were strong for leaving, and you were strong for staying.

You were a victim, and now you are a survivor.

You did your best then, and you’re doing your best now.

I know you are.

Whatever your heartache, never give up on yourself.

You are worth it. And you always will be.