A few days ago, I was on a flight when we hit a patch of turbulence.
Drinks rattled, someone gasped, and the pilot turned on the fasten seatbelt sign.
As this was happening, I noticed something interesting:
I wasn’t anxious.
At all.
This struck me as weird cause let’s be honest… I’m no stranger to anxiety. Despite possessing all of the tools in the world to help other people manage their anxiety I sometimes find it near impossible to control my own.
But there I was — calm as could be — while people around me were gripping their armrests like they were flotation devices.
And it made me wonder:
Why am I fine with turbulence, but completely lose my mind when a guy I’m dating suddenly goes silent?
Same body.
Same brain.
Completely different reaction.
When We Try to Control Anxiety, Our Brains Work Overtime
Many of us try to control anxiety by controlling situations, people, or outcomes.
If we can just figure it out, say the right thing, or anticipate what’s coming, maybe we can finally calm down.
Except… it usually works in the opposite direction.
Anxiety doesn’t settle when we tighten our grip.
It gets louder.
Why Turbulence Feels Easier Than Uncertainty in Relationships
When I’m on a plane, I know one thing for sure:
I have zero control.
I can’t steady the wings.
I can’t adjust the altitude.
I can’t charm the pilot into finding smoother air.
The outcome is totally out of my hands.
And because I know that, my brain kind of shrugs and goes:
“Cool. Nothing to do here.”
So I read my book.
I eat my pretzels.
I let the turbulence do what turbulence does.
Now, let’s switch scenes.
The guy I’m seeing suddenly stops texting.
No crash. No explosion.
Just radio silence.
And suddenly, my brain turns into a NASA control room.
What did I do wrong?
Should I text again?Was my last text too forward? Or not forward enough?
Maybe his phone died?
Wait… he watched my story two hours ago so he is definitely alive.
What does this mean?!
Here’s the kicker:
In that situation, I also have no control.
None.
But unlike turbulence, my brain thinks I should.
The Illusion of Control Is What Fuels Anxiety
When we know we can’t control something – like the weather – our brains often relax into acceptance. We might not like it, but we understand it’s out of our hands.
But when we believe we might be able to control something – like people, relationships, or outcomes – anxiety moves in.
It whispers:
“If you just analyze enough…
If you just say the right thing…
If you just stay one step ahead…
You can fix this.”
That’s the illusion of control.
And it’s exhausting.
We start trying to outsmart uncertainty.
We overanalyze.
We catastrophize.
We turn into emotional meteorologists, trying to predict storms that were never ours to manage.
And let’s be real….those weather reports are rarely correct anyway.
It’s not the situation that makes us anxious.
It’s the belief that we should be able to change it.
Uncertainty cannot be cured. It can only be accepted and tolerated.
I know – not exactly the inspirational quote you wanted today.
How to Let Go When You Can’t Control the Outcome
Here’s your little turbulence homework:
The next time your anxiety spikes, ask yourself:
Am I under the illusion that there’s something I can do to change this situation?
Am I trying to control anxiety by controlling something that isn’t actually in my control?
If the answer is yes, try treating the situation like a bumpy flight.
You don’t have to love it.
You don’t have to like it.
You just have to ride it out.
Because not everything that shakes you… is yours to steady.
And learning to control anxiety isn’t about doing more — it’s about recognizing what was never yours to manage in the first place.
