LOUISA SIMMONDS

One wisdom that comes with ageing is how little real control we have over life’s challenges. Trump’s next presidency has been the perfect example of that for some.

Control isn’t necessarily a bad thing. There are valid reasons we put certain people in positions of control. However, as we’ve seen in recent stories of coercive control in relationships and the fears many of us felt about Trump’s win, it can be dangerous when it is abused. Loss of control is something some parents – in particular, parents of young adults – also need to learn.

Some of us experience a sense of loss of control when they leave the nest. Through what can be a difficult transition, it is easy to forget our main goal of parenting – to encourage our kids’ independence – and often, feelings of relief and happiness are complicated by sadness and loneliness.

Such feelings are valid. There is more pressure on modern parents to invest time and energy into their kids’ formative years than our parents generation. So it can be challenging when it’s time to let go. And although we may not interpret those emotions as loss of control – more of a powerlessness to protect our young adults from life’s uncertainties – releasing them into the wild can be a terrifying thought. Some parents try to control from a distance, but eventually even they come to accept that they are doing their kids no favours. Young adults must make their own decisions, take risks, and make mistakes. It’s how they learn and evolve.

Control and enabling do not build self-awareness

For some time, I’ve found that loss of control challenging with one of our young adults, who has struggled to find his place in the world. His battle is further complicated by untreated mental health issues that unfortunately, he is resistant to treat.

Sometimes, the task of navigating his care to keep him safe feels Sisyphean. But I’m learning now that forcing him to commit to treatment is not the right solution, and nor is compromising my own health. Even the best therapy in the world can’t help someone until they are ready to embrace it.

I struggle to understand why he refuses help, but what I am coming to accept is the little influence I have now in his decisions.

“Understanding voters’ decisions is not the same thing as justifying them.” The New York Times

It has taken me a while to reach this point. As someone who experienced trauma during my childhood, I built natural defenses, and many times, feeling in control of difficult situations was the only way I navigated them.

In his post on Medium, “Embrace The Misery”, Jon Krakauer points out : “When Sisyphus manages to wrap his mind around the inescapability of his predicament, and takes responsibility for it, he is liberated from his torment.”

I have played the role of Sisyphus for too long – an arduous journey that it is time to step back from. Finally, I have acknowledged that control is unlikely to produce the outcomes I seek. In fact, psychologists see the desire or need to control as a person’s need to boost their own self-esteem, or to prevent negative consequences or embarassment.

Control is not love

Of course, my desire to control his decisions – in particular, the riskier ones – comes from a place of love and fear. Primarily, fear for his safety, but if I’m honest, from fear of judgment and failure too. The public’s perception of mental illness is changing, but the stigma remains, even among medical practitioners and within our own social circle.

Nevertheless, I can see now the empowerment that comes from relinquishing control – for both of us. Everyone deserves autonomy and their own voice. And ultimately, when we truly care about our loved ones, we must accept them as masters of their own universe. We must respect their choices – even if they are painful.

We are the masters of our own universe

I’m not suggesting that acceptance is easy – and, don’t worry, I won’t hark on again about radical acceptance in this post – but I would remind anyone in crisis that it is one way to help counter the pain and rage some us of feel when we lose control.

Acceptance isn’t a silver bullet either. I still suffer when my son make choices that risk his safety, but in the same way that I feel guilty for not doing more for those who will suffer under Trump, I must put those feelings into perspective. Trump’s voters prioritised their needs and beliefs in this election, and having never walked in their shoes, who am I to judge?

“Look, I didn’t like Jan. 6 — and I don’t want it to happen again — but it didn’t affect my life nearly as much as the price of eggs, milk and gas.” The New York Times

Trump’s win paled into insignificance last week when we experienced several crises that no parent anticipates. For obvious reasons, the last thing on our minds was the election – albeit the US is a close alliance with Australia and there will be a global impact.

Shit happens. The people spoke, and we must respect their decision

As the people of the US were voting – and democratically chose him to run their country again – we became longterm residents of the local ER. In emotional lockdown, we hunkered down, prioritising the needs of one of our close unit, triaging the immediate risks, and making difficult decisions based on the limited information we had in that moment.

Nothing else mattered.

Of course, my heart goes out to those who will be most negatively impacted by the new President – women, immigrants, climate advocates, Ukrainians and the people of Gaza – but when those closest to you are in pain, they become the priority.

“You are only as happy as your unhappiest child”

Sitting on one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs in the ER, I reflected on the quote above. A friends said it to me when our son was having a tough time in high school – when we believed that was the end of our world. But it is so wise. Because when the shit hits the fan – when someone close to you becomes seriously ill or is struggling – they become your raison d’être. The only thing that really matters is them. The state of the world becomes secondary – despite the obvious connection.

However, allowing it to consume you is unrealistic and dangerous. The truth is, I have little control over my son’s decisions or the state of the world and risking my own health for his is certainly not the solution. It is what we are programmed to do as parents, but once our kids become adults, we must give them autonomy.

Charity begins at home

At times, navigating family life is complicated and messy, and making the right call isn’t always easy – especially when emotions run high. Everyone knows that shared DNA doesn’t guarantee a meeting of minds, and last week, I accepted that truth.

Finally, I pulled my head out of the sand.

It is still painful accepting my powerlessless, but I am leaning into the wisdom that not everything is in my power or control and neither should it be. I am leaning into radical acceptance.

Don’t give up

I haven’t given up. I continue to hope. It is heartbreaking to watch another person in pain, and I will continue to monitor his health, offer my love, empathy, and compassion. But I will try not to judge, and only offer my opinion when it is sought. I will resist trying to fix difficult situations or offer solutions. Although my opinions have some bearing on his decisions, they carry very little real weight. If the worst happens, I must respect my loved one’s role as master of his own universe.