Why We Try to Control The People and Relationships We Love
A woman at the threshold of protection and heart opening.
When something we deeply love feels threatened, most of us don't become more open.
We become more protective.
We explain.
We fix.
We manage.
We try to create certainty.
And often, we don't realize we're doing it.
These behaviors can look like love because they arise in the places where we care most. But our attempts to protect connection can sometimes make connection harder to access.
This is one of the paradoxes I've been exploring in my own life:
The more something matters to us, the more vulnerable we become to losing it. And the more vulnerable we feel, the more tempted we are to control what happens next.
Learning to recognize this pattern is part of developing the capacity to stay present during conflict and uncertainty.
When Fear of Losing Connection Takes Over
I recognized this pattern recently while traveling with my husband, Bryan.
We had left for a trip to Maine under tense circumstances. One minute we were talking excitedly about the trip. The next, something between us shifted.
I didn't understand what had happened.
But my body noticed immediately.
My attention moved away from myself and toward him.
I began watching his face, listening to his tone, and scanning for some indication that we were going to be okay.
On the surface, I was worried that the conflict would ruin our romantic getaway.
Underneath that was something much more fundamental:
I was afraid of losing connection with the person I love most.
So I tried to restore it.
I over-explained.
I pointed out what I thought had gone wrong.
I tried to make him understand my perspective.
The internal logic was simple: if I could explain myself clearly enough, he would understand. If he understood, he would soften. If he softened, we could reconnect.
And if we reconnected, I could feel safe again.
What I couldn't see in the moment was the paradox.
I wasn't surrendering to love. I was trying to control my way back to it.
I thought I was fighting for connection.
I couldn't yet see how hard I was fighting against the moment itself.
Why We Become Protective in Relationships
We fiercely protect what we love in the places where we are most vulnerable to loss.
For people who feel deeply, this can be particularly intense.
We want to be moved by life.
We long for depth, passion, beauty, intimacy, connection, and meaning.
We don't want a life anesthetized against pain if the price is also being anesthetized against pleasure.
But there is a vulnerability inherent in living this way.
What we love awakens us. And because it awakens us, it also exposes us.
The more alive we allow ourselves to become, the more there is to lose.
That's where protection enters.
When connection feels uncertain, we reach for certainty.
When love feels threatened, we try to secure it.
When the moment stops unfolding the way we hoped, we begin trying to manage the moment.
How Control Can Disguise Itself as Care
Control in relationships doesn't always look obviously controlling.
Sometimes it looks surprisingly reasonable.
It can look like repeatedly explaining yourself because you desperately need to feel understood.
It can look like trying to resolve a disagreement before either person is ready.
It can look like monitoring your partner's mood.
It can look like fixing the atmosphere.
It can look like searching for reassurance that everything is okay.
Underneath these behaviors is often the same movement:
Something matters to me. I might lose it. I need to do something.
The behavior isn't necessarily the problem.
The important question is what is driving it.
Am I responding from openness and choice?
Or has fear made the decision for me?
This is why learning to recognize when we've left ourselves during conflict matters so much.
The Same Pattern Appears Outside Relationships
This pattern doesn't belong only to romantic relationships.
Change the arena and it often appears in a different costume.
In Athletic Competition
An athlete desperately wants to win.
Pressure rises, so they begin managing their partner, analyzing every mistake, or trying to control the game instead of actually playing it.
Their desire to perform well pulls them away from the state that allows them to perform well.
In Leadership
A leader deeply cares about an outcome.
Then uncertainty enters the room.
Instead of remaining curious and responsive, they tighten around the situation and begin controlling the people or process.
In Creative Work
A creator makes something they deeply care about.
Once it's released, they begin monitoring how it's received, questioning their choices, and trying to control an outcome that was never entirely theirs to control.
Different arena.
Same underlying pattern.
The more something matters, the greater our exposure to uncertainty.
And pressure reveals how we've learned to respond to that exposure.
What Are You Practicing Under Pressure?
This is where the idea of devotion becomes interesting.
We usually think devotion describes what we love.
Our partner.
Our family.
Our work.
Our craft.
Our purpose.
But another way to think about devotion is to look at what we repeatedly practice when those things feel threatened.
We may say we're devoted to connection while repeatedly practicing control.
We may desire intimacy while practicing protection.
We may crave aliveness while continually trying to manage uncertainty out of the moment.
What we practice under pressure eventually becomes its own kind of devotion.
This is why emotional regulation isn't simply about becoming calmer.
What If Devotion Doesn't Mean Holding Tighter?
There are two familiar responses when caring becomes painful.
Grip harder.
Or care less.
But perhaps there is another possibility.
Perhaps devotion is developing the capacity to remain open while caring that much.
The capacity to stay open while caring deeply.
That doesn't mean tolerating harmful behavior.
It doesn't mean abandoning boundaries.
And surrender doesn't have to mean submission.
It means becoming curious about whether we can protect ourselves without automatically closing ourselves to the experience of love.
That opens a very different set of questions:
Can I care fiercely without gripping?
Can I deeply desire connection without trying to control another person into giving it to me?
Can I experience disappointment without immediately trying to change the experience?
Can I stay open without abandoning myself?
Can I love something deeply while accepting that I cannot control its outcome?
These aren't questions to answer quickly.
They're lenses through which we can begin observing ourselves.
A Practice for Staying Present Under Pressure
Choose one question from above.
Not the easiest one.
Choose the one that catches your attention, makes you slightly uncomfortable, or causes you to immediately want to explain why it doesn't apply to you.
Carry that question with you.
Then watch what happens the next time pressure enters a relationship, competition, leadership moment, or creative endeavor.
Notice where you tighten.
Notice what you try to fix.
Notice where your attention goes.
Notice what you attempt to control.
You don't have to change any of it yet.
Begin by seeing it.
Something as enormous as surrender can't be reduced to a simple practice at the bottom of an article.
First, we can notice where we refuse it.
That may be enough to begin.
Continue the Conversation
This Field Note explores one part of a larger body of work I'm developing around presence, emotional capacity, relationships, and what happens to us under pressure.
The original essay, Devotion Under Pressure, goes deeper into the personal and philosophical exploration of what it means to remain available to love while caring deeply.
Read Devotion Under Pressure on Substack → https://devotionalrelationship.substack.com/p/devotion-under-pressure
