Why Letting Go Feels So Hard (Even When You Want To)

Some of us learned early that staying in control was the only way to stay safe.
Some learned it was how you avoid punishment.
Some learned it was the only way to prevent those around them from falling apart.

And some, maybe you, learned that if you didn’t control everything, no one else would.

But here’s the part no one talks about:

Control is almost always a childhood survival skill dressed up as adult responsibility.

The Childhood Moments That Teach You to Over-Manage

Maybe you were the child who sensed tension before anyone spoke.
Maybe you learned to read a room like a weather forecast; scanning faces, moods, tone shifts.
Maybe you became the emotional thermostat, adjusting yourself to keep the peace.

Or maybe you grew up in a home where:

• A parent unraveling meant you had to stay calm.

• Chaos in the house meant you had to be the “mature one.”

• Silence meant you had to guess what was wrong.

• Any small mistake meant an explosion, so you learned to prevent every problem before it started.

That’s where control begins, not from ego, but from fear.

Fear of being blindsided.
Fear of disappointing someone.
Fear of being punished.
Fear of being abandoned.

So you become the child who predicts everything.
And without realizing it, you become the adult who can’t stop.

How Childhood Vigilance Becomes Adult Control

Fast forward to adulthood, and the same nervous-system reflex is still running your life.

You could let things unfold… but your body remembers the cost of uncertainty.

So you:

• Overthink every scenario

• Plan for problems that don’t exist

• Monitor everyone’s emotional state

• Feel responsible for outcomes you can’t control

• React to discomfort like danger

• Carry the mental load for the entire room

It’s not that you want to micromanage everything. It’s that your body learned long ago that letting go means getting hurt. Control isn’t your personality. It’s your protection.

Therapy Example – The Woman Who Never Relaxed on Vacation

I once worked with a woman who couldn’t relax on vacation.
She would pack for everyone, plan every detail, anticipate every mishap, and double-check everything.

One day in session, she said:

“If I stop controlling everything, it will fall apart. And if it falls apart, it will be my fault.”

When we traced it back, she remembered being eight years old, watching her mother have a meltdown because something went wrong at a family outing.

She told me, “That day, I decided it would never happen again. So I became the one who makes sure everything goes smoothly.”

Her healing began with one experiment: allowing someone else to plan one tiny part of the trip.

It was uncomfortable; her chest tightened, her mind raced, but nothing fell apart.

And for the first time, she realized:
The world keeps spinning even when I’m not controlling it.
I just never learned how to trust that.

The Hidden Cost of Being the One Who Manages Everything

People admire you for being organized, reliable, and steady. But they don’t see:

• The exhaustion of being “on” all the time

• The anxiety underneath your calm exterior

• The loneliness of never feeling supported

• The guilt you carry when you can’t fix everything

• The way your body tightens at the slightest uncertainty

When control is built on fear, it’s not confidence. It’s survival mode in a sophisticated outfit.

What Liberation Looks Like

Liberation isn’t about letting everything fall apart. It’s about letting go of what was never yours to carry.

It looks like:

• Letting someone else handle a detail without micromanaging

• Pausing before you react

• Letting an emotion pass without spiraling

• Breathing instead of predicting

• Saying “that’s not mine” and meaning it

• Trusting that you are safe even when you don’t know what comes next

Because real strength isn’t found in controlling everything. It’s found in knowing you don’t have to.

And if this feels uncomfortably familiar, that’s exactly the kind of nervous-system honesty and spiritual unbotheredness I write about in F*ck You All, Chill, Jesus Is Coming Soon* — for the part of you that is so tired of carrying it all.

Pocket Practice

Notice one moment this week where you automatically jump into “I’ll handle it.”

Pause.
Take one slow breath.

Ask yourself:

“Is this actually mine to manage, or is this an old reflex trying to protect me?”

If it’s a reflex, try something small:

• Let the email wait.

• Let someone else take the lead.

• Let a conversation unfold without directing it.

• Let uncertainty exist without immediately fixing it.

See what happens when you loosen your grip.

You might discover peace in the space you’ve never allowed yourself to feel.

In liberation,

Luz