Why I thought I was in control (but wasn’t)

For years, I swore I was making choices freely.

I believed if I just decided hard enough, I could think differently, act differently, live differently. And sometimes it looked like it was working, for a while. But underneath, something else was pulling the strings.

I remember one night, walking into a conversation with every intention of “staying calm.” I had rehearsed it in my head, told myself I wasn’t going to repeat the same old pattern. Within five minutes, my chest was tight, my voice was snippy, and the words coming out of my mouth were the exact ones I had promised myself I wouldn’t say.

It felt like I was watching myself from the outside, powerless to stop it. Like my body had been hijacked by an old script. My stomach sank, shame flushed hot through my face, and the only thought I had afterward was: “How did I end up here again?”

Maybe you’ve felt that too.

You set the best of intentions, you won’t shut down this time, you won’t lash out, you won’t keep quiet when you want to speak. And then, before you know it, you’re in the same loop. Same reaction. Same aftermath.

That invisible force? It’s not fate, and it’s not bad luck. Its identity.

Not the one you want to live from, but the one that was formed years ago, out of survival, shame, proving, or pleasing. That hidden identity is what steps in and takes the wheel before your conscious mind even catches up.

This is why willpower feels so temporary. It’s why breakthroughs fade into “back to normal.” Because the old identity, the one that says, “I have to keep the peace” or “I’ll never be enough” or “I can’t afford to fail” is still calling the shots.

For the longest time, I thought that meant I was undisciplined. Or just fucked, and destined to sabotage myself forever. But the truth is, I was just living from an identity I never actually chose. And because it felt so familiar, I mistook it for who I really was (for a longgggggg assssss time).

Here’s the disorienting part: when you start to see that, it shakes everything. If you’re not the person who keeps repeating these patterns, then who are you? And yet, that question is also where hope sneaks in. Because if identity can be formed, it can also be un-formed, re-formed, reshaped. It isn’t permanent.

So if you’ve ever felt powerless against your own patterns, don’t mistake that for being weak. The invisible force pulling you isn’t proof that you can’t change. It’s proof that your old identity has been running the show longer than it should.

And the fact that you can feel the tug-of-war inside you? That’s the beginning of a crack in the old script, the proof that you’re waking up to something truer.

👽💛
Danielle

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