Control is something I struggle with a lot in life. I am not sure I noticed how much I struggle with needing to control something - not in a menacing way, though - until I started overthinking my cancer journey. I have always been a type A personality who likes lists and crossing off things from a list. That way there are not really unknowns. There is too much I can't control in the unknown.
Something like a cancer diagnosis throws you for a loop when it comes to control. In my case, there was nothing I could do nothing to prevent this kind of cancer. DCIS is not necessarily predictive. Once I had the diagnosis, I felt like there was so much out of my control, when really, all of the decisions to be made were entirely in my control. My doctors never presented anything to me as anything but MY decision. It was all under my control. The cancer wasn't but how I dealt with it was.
If you embrace the idea that you cannot control everything the universe throws at you but you can control your reaction, then the unknown seems less daunting. If you walk into the unknown, you face fear, a threatening emotion. And aren't we supposed to do things that scare us, to prove to ourselves that we can conquer (or control) our fears? I am always telling my kids that they should feel their emotions, label them and understand them so that they aren't ashamed of them and that they know how to deal with them. Emotions just tell us that we are doing something different, or that we care, or that we are feeling.
For instance, I have no control over the fact that I have written this blog post twice and it hasn't been saved on the website either time (I loathe technology sometimes). So I have had to rewrite it three times now. I only have control over how I handle the anger and frustration of that situation.
I have no control over the tantrum that my son throws about not wanting to do his writing assignment. I can only control my response. I can only breathe deep and walk away until he calms down.
I have no control over the fear my partner has about getting covid from take out. I can only respect the fear and do my best to alleviate the fears by not bringing the take out into the house (this has led to a few car picnics with me and the kids).
I have no control over the meltdown my daughter has about a ruined art project. I can only offer hugs and my time to help gather more art supplies.
Control is something that gives us power over something. And sometimes we have to let go instead. I was just given the opportunity to let go, in fact, of something that has been truly mine and only mine for five years. I have been the only parent volunteer to put my kids' elementary school yearbook together. Each year it has been a struggle to get participation, but in the end, the books have always been well received by students, teachers and parents alike. After five long, stress filled years of making decisions on my own and begging parents for photographs, and bribing friends to help review cover design submissions, I have finally gotten one person who is interested in helping me next year.
You think I would want to throw them a parade.
But it means I relinquish control. And now I am not so sure I want to do that. Because it has been my own lists, my own ideas, my own deadlines; my own creative process up til now. And now I need to take the advice I would give to my kids: meet a new person; learn about their strengths; give them something to do; let them have access to your past mistakes; work as a team. Perhaps letting go of some of my control will allow me to see things differently. Maybe this new person will teach me something. It is really great advice. If only I was good at following my own advice.
Honestly, once I made a decision about my cancer journey, I was happy to relinquish the control back to the steady hands of my cancer surgeon and reconstruction surgeon. Because, who better to cut out and rebuild than the people who have studied it and practiced it. Its the other things I have trouble with letting go of. I wish I could open myself up a bit more to allow for help. Maybe this is the time. I am 42, and while it is hard to learn new things, maybe this is the one thing I focus on in the next year: letting go of control.
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