I’ve been called many things in my life, but only one bothers me enough to devote a blog post to it. Certain people have called me “controlling” (not to my face, of course). Anal-retentive? Yes, of course, but I prefer the term “organized.” Perfectionist? Yes, but only about my own work. Obnoxious? Perhaps, but I like to call it being blunt.
Let’s check in with dictionary.com, which defines the word in the following manner:
| 1. |
to exercise restraint or direction over; dominate; command. |
| 2. |
to hold in check; curb. |
Calling me “controlling” is offensive to me because it accuses me of being a dictator, a puppeteer. And it is offensive to Eddie and others close to me, because it makes them seem weak and sheep-like. And if you know Eddie, you know he is not weak and sheep-like. He is very much his own person, and makes his own decisions.
It’s silly, really, because you simply can’t control other people. And I’m not interested in trying. What I would like to control is my own life (ie. the ability to get everything done that I need to get done). But other people’s decisions affect my life, Eddie’s life, and the lives of my children.
If I may quote a fine Paul Newman flick, “What we’ve got here is failure to communicate.” What certain folks call “controlling,” I call, “I just want to know what the heck is going on in advance so that I can make my plans accordingly!” Or you can call it “asking for common courtesy.” Maybe it is the reporter in me. I want to know what’s going on. I like logic.
There are people who go through life living in the moment and making spontaneous decisions. Even though I can’t do that, I am totally fine with other people doing it as long as they recognize I sometimes can’t join in the reindeer games.
Must. Remain. Calm.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I submit for your review three scenarios:
1. A special meal: Invited guests ask, “What time should we be there?” I say, “Lunch is at noon.” They are two hours late, and I’m a little put out. Am I controlling?
2. An unexpected visit: The phone rings, and potential guests report they are on their way. I say, “Great, but I have a presentation tomorrow and I won’t be able to spend much time with you.” They are a little put out. Am I controlling?
3. Clothes shopping: I take a 13-year-old relative shopping. I will not buy her the hoochie clothes she wants. Her mother accuses me of treating her like my own Barbie doll. Am I controlling?
Perhaps the real issue is that I am too honest when these things happen. I will admit that I’m honest to a fault. Perhaps I should smile and keep my mouth shut, but I’m not sure I have that in me.
But the good thing about me is that you can be just as blunt as I am, you can make fun of my need to know, and you can laugh at my obsession with time management. I won’t be offended. Just don’t call me the C word. I command it.
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I’m surprised I didn’t find more of that. Perhaps I was distracted by the funnel cake. It was the boys’ first time for that too. Yum … sugary grease …
Observe and report 