What I Can Control (And Why I Keep Forgetting)
I know the advice. I’ve heard it a thousand times: focus on what you can control and let the rest go.
I can even tell you what I can’t control—the big, obvious things. Other people’s choices. Their timing. Whether they follow through. Whether my daughter texts me back.
But knowing it and actually living it? That’s where I keep stumbling.
The Little Things That Ruin My Day
When I lived with my daughter, I’d organize the garage and leave the remaining items in the middle for them to sort through. Simple enough, right? But they never finished. I’d plan meals for the week and just needed to know which nights they wouldn’t be home. They couldn’t tell me.
Now when I ask my daughter to do something for me, she puts it off until I get so frustrated that I tell her to forget it. And the cycle continues.
These feel like small, reasonable requests. But I can’t control her timeline, her priorities, or her sense of urgency. And that powerlessness? That’s what ruins my day.
What I’m Really Trying to Control
Here’s what I’ve started to notice—a pattern running through all my frustrations:
When my daughter doesn’t text me back but I watch her answer everyone else’s texts when we’re together—I feel like I don’t matter to her.
When people don’t follow my advice even though I’ve lived longer and been through it all—I feel like my experience doesn’t count for anything.
When plans fall through after I’ve structured my whole day around them—I feel like my effort was worthless.
When I beat myself up for not accomplishing enough yesterday—I feel like I’m not doing enough, being enough.
Every single one hits the same wound: Am I enough? Do I matter?
I’m not really trying to control the garage or the meal schedule or the texts. I’m trying to control how I feel about myself. I’m trying to prove that I’m valuable, that my time matters, that I’m important.
And because I can’t control any of it, I just keep getting hurt.
When I Got It Right
Years ago, I listened to a Tony Robbins tape about not letting outside influences affect how I take care of myself. For eight months, I lost 80 pounds. I had a strict schedule—meals planned, exercise blocked out. I knew what I could control: my choices, my commitment, my focus.
And I thrived.
I even figured out early on that I couldn’t depend on other people. I’d leave for work an hour early to walk with a friend a couple times a week. After she canceled twice, I stopped going. Same with meeting someone at the gym. I told them both: “I have the motivation to help myself but not to support them as well.”
I recognized I only had so much energy. And when I was spending it managing other people’s commitment, I had nothing left for myself.
How I Lost It
My older brother told me there was a “better way.” Instead of my structured gym routine, he suggested natural exercise activities—joining a team, doing things with other people.
So I shifted from a system where I was autonomous and successful to one that depended on other people showing up, following through, staying committed. All the things I can’t control. All the things that frustrate me most.
I got sick and never went back to that focused version of myself.
The Truth I Don’t Want to Admit
I’d like to say helping others is in my blood, that it’s just who I am. But I think the real truth is simpler and harder: I’m bored with my own life.
When you don’t have enough going on in your own life, you fill the space with other people’s stuff. Their garages. Their schedules. Their problems. And then you get hurt when they don’t appreciate it or prioritize it the way you do—even though they never asked you to make their lives your project in the first place.
When I was losing that weight and focused on myself? I wasn’t bored. I had a mission. I had MY life to tend to.
Now? I’ve spent 50 years building skills, identity, and purpose around other people. Managing. Helping. Organizing. Being needed.
And I’m trying to redirect all of that inward, but I don’t know how.
What I Want
I want to make myself the center of my attention. And keep my focus there.
I want to use this blog to work through these patterns. I want calm, thoughtful mornings that set the tone for my day. I want to function with intention—to prep for what I can so that when something comes up, I’m ready. I want to help people, but through my work here, not by organizing their lives and then feeling hurt when they don’t match my energy.
I want to stop trying to prove I matter by controlling things I can’t control.
The Real Work
So this post isn’t about having the answers. It’s about recognizing the pattern and doing the work to shift it.
What I can control:
- My schedule, my choices, my commitment
- Recognizing that my worth isn’t determined by response times or whether people take my advice
- Deciding that yesterday is done and today is a fresh start
- Understanding that other people’s choices are about them, not about my value
- Keeping my energy focused on building MY life instead of managing theirs
What I can’t control:
- Whether my daughter texts back
- Whether people follow through
- Whether anyone appreciates my effort
- How others prioritize me
I matter whether my daughter texts back or not.
That’s what I’m working on remembering. Every single day.
This is part of my ongoing journey to keep my focus where it belongs—on myself. If you’ve struggled with this too, I’d love to hear about it.