Anger, Fear, and the Illusion of Control
- Jim Cernan

- Sep 11
- 3 min read

Anger, Fear, and the Illusion of Control
How Emotional Sobriety Frees Us from the Need to Fix, Change, or Correct Others
I was having a conversation recently with someone I love and respect. We were in a disagreement, nothing earth-shattering, just one of those moments where two people see something differently. But I noticed something rising up in me. Not just frustration, but this pressing, almost panicked desire for them to see it my way.
It wasn’t about the issue. It was about being understood. About being right. About not being misrepresented. And beneath all that? It was about control.
We Don’t Think We’re Trying to Control People… But We Are
Control sneaks in quietly, wearing all sorts of disguises.
Sometimes, it looks like trying to change someone’s perspective. “They just don’t get it.” “If I explain it again, maybe they’ll see I’m right.” “If they don’t understand, what does that say about me?”
Sometimes, it shows up as emotional invalidation. “They shouldn’t feel that way.” “They’re being too sensitive.” “They’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
And sometimes, control is overt, trying to change someone’s behavior: “Stop doing that.” “I’ve told you a thousand times.” “You need to act differently.”
But what all of these have in common is this: We’re uncomfortable with how someone else is being, and we want them to see it the way we see it, to do it how we do it, or to feel how we feel about it.
Anger’s Role in All This
Anger gets a bad rap, but it’s not the enemy.
Anger is a messenger. A boundary guardian.
A signal that something feels unsafe, or that we've been dishonored. But when we don’t know how to work with it, anger becomes a tool of control. If left alone it tends to escalate similar to a competitive match of ping-pong. I call it ping-pong escalation. Each volley becomes more aggressive than the previous one. And we want them to stop. And if they don't? Anger either explodes or simmers, and we spiral into resentment or withdrawal.
But here’s the twist:
Underneath most anger is fear.
What Are We So Afraid Of?
Fear doesn’t always yell. Sometimes it whispers. “If they don’t understand me, maybe I’m not lovable.” “If they don’t validate me, maybe I don’t matter.” “If they don’t stop doing that, maybe I’m not safe.” "If they don't concede, maybe I am wrong."
In the Beyond Reactivity workshop, we explore how fear creates projections, lilke mental movies of what might go wrong. These stories almost never reflect the actual moment. But we react as if they’re real. We brace. We posture. We try to seize the wheel.
So What Can We Do?
Emotional sobriety invites us to respond differently.
We practice:
• Noticing when we’re triggered
• Breathing before reacting
• Getting curious about what’s underneath the anger
• Naming what we need: “I want to feel understood. I want to feel safe.”
• Responding with clarity instead of control
We shift from fixing others to tending to ourselves; that’s where real strength lives.
That’s real power.
A Story from the Other Side
I remember a moment years ago, sitting with someone who was telling me how I had hurt them. My defenses rose quickly and I wanted to say: “That’s not what I meant.” “You’re misunderstanding me.” “You’re being too sensitive.”
But this time, I paused. I felt the heat in my chest. I felt the clench in my jaw. And I realized, I wasn’t listening because I was trying to control their perception of me. I took a breath. I said, “I want to understand how what I did affected you even if it’s hard for me to hear.” Something softened in both of us. We got to the truth. And we got to each other.
A Gentle Reflection
The next time you feel the urge to correct or fix someone, take a breath. Ask yourself:
• What fear is surfacing in me?
• What do I really need?
• Can I sit with this feeling without making them change?
This is what emotional sobriety looks like:
Letting go of control without letting go of truth.




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