I am a natural born stubborn control freak. STUBBORN. CONTROL. FREAK.

I am so stubborn that when I was a toddler I would get angry that I wouldn’t get my way and I would hold my breath until I passed out. My mom would ignore me, my grandma thought I was dying and would fuss over me. I gave up the stunt after I realized it wouldn’t get me very far.

I am so stubborn that I will be mid discussion with my husband and be looking up articles that validate my opinion and information I am sharing. This “discussion” has been known to go on for days…I can blame him, but it’s really my doing.

When I planned my first trip to Europe in 2010 I literally planned everything down to the hour and half hour. This included each museum, how to walk, where to eat, how long it took on the train/public transportation. It was planned to the wire. Then an Icelandic Volcano blew up and ruined the plan and I had to adjust everything.

Going into college I had a straight and narrow plan on getting my BA, getting my MA and getting the dream job. I would work my ass off and ta-da I would have it and in no time I could be at Conde Nast or the Times and one day I would move abroad and work for the Guardian.

 I thought a lot of things.

Life likes to shit on these thoughts and dreams.

It’s not that the universe, or life, or God, or Goddess, or Cat (whatever you’re into man) wants you to suffer, it’s that the universe is chaotic and nothing is promised. You can do everything the way you think you should, and it will all go to hell regardless. It’s just our existence on this blue marble.

I like to think I am a recovering control freak, but I think I am still more control freak than recovering. I will probably never be someone that can just show up on a rip with no plan or preconceived notions. Instead, I will show up with a folder of details, receipts, and schedules that I will refer to all week. I will have a mind full of facts and ideas and images and expectations as to what I should be experiencing on said trip. I will be well informed on food choices and activity prices, shoe and age requirements, cultural norms and common sayings. In many respects I am over prepared, in other respects I have spent a disgusting amount of time preparing myself for things that won’t go any set way.

I dislike chaos and disorganization, I dislike not being able to find things and things that go missing. I dislike the natural chaos of existence and I have done little things to try and shelter myself. I have a hard time committing to anything in a solid way, jobs, friendships, clubs, romances, etc. I WANT to, but I also fear if I come up with something more important to do, or a need, that if I can’t be there I am letting people down, and more importantly myself. This is not to say I don’t take risks, traveling is inherent risk, going to college is risk, my job is constant risk. I risk a lot, but it all is comfortable risk, risk that builds into something better. Emotional risk is something else.

Emotional risk, and inevitable failure, is heartbreak and tears and pain. It is not getting the job(s) you apply for, all 200 of them, and settling for a different field entirely. It is facing that marriage and long partnerships are not all wine and roses but something better, though scarier. It is learning to grow where you are planted, not demanding the perfect climate at the start. It is being vulnerable and real and going with chaos. It is the ultimate lemonade with lemons, no matter how sour they are, and no matter the sugar that is poured in the pitcher. It is daily getting up and trying to be better than the day before.

I am still learning in my recovery, I think each day my walls crumble a little more.