My name is Dani and I’m a control freak. Oh yes and I’m sure if you met me in person you’d also soon come to that conclusion. A lot of people I met this year did and thankfully they told me so. Obviously, I didn’t like that at first. It’s easy to ignore feedback like that if your husband tells you so (because all women are control freaks compared to men) but alas I had to seriously investigate these allegations – turned out, it’s true.
So at the beginning of summer, after some reflection, I came to the conclusion that the need to control comes from fear and that I needed to face my fears. So I did. Amongst other things I skinny dipped into the Thames near Oxford from a little boat my husband and I hired: I discovered that the Thames water is still freezing cold in May and that being covered in sunscreen doesn’t help a swift escape back into a plastic boat. I might have traumatised some locals that were driving past on their bikes as well but hey, I was facing my fears and I'd like to think I helped them too.
Later this summer I felt like there’s something deeper going on, that somehow I’m not really expressing myself or living to my full potential and might actually try to control a part of myself that I’m scared to let out. So one Sunday morning while sharing a bath with my husband I burst into tears telling him that he just didn’t understand what I was going through. When he requested me to elaborate, all I could say (in a very dramatic fashion!) was: "I need to grow my wings!" and he said: “Ah... so you don’t just want to be a monkey (he calls me that sometimes) but a FLYING monkey!” Amidst all the tears I laughed out loud and agreed. My Alter Ego was created. The next day I started writing my blog.
Needless to say that the controlling behaviour hasn’t just disappeared but in little baby steps I've done more things that I never did before and started to do other things differently.
Last month I started thinking a lot about letting go and learning to enjoy being lazy and boy did I get into that one! It was like discovering a new drug. Finally I allow myself to just do what takes my fancy and I have been reading and writing to my heart’s content. It’s been manure for my blossoming creativity. Of course, there have been downsides: our flat is a mess and hasn’t been cleaned properly for over a month now (it normally gets an over-all clean at least every two weeks), I’m way behind with an assignment for my Uni course (in fact I haven’t even started) and it is due in next week, my clothes are getting too tight (and I choose to think that someone secretly takes them in at night) and I’m still sitting here writing this in my dressing gown at lunchtime.
Do I feel bad? Yes, sometimes. When the old addicted voice in my head says: “Go on, get a grip, you know you want to.” But you know what? Maybe I’ll just have to wing it – isn’t that what wings are for?