The Hidden Cost of Control for High Achievers

Jun 15

Have you ever asked yourself: At what point does the thing that makes me feel safe become the very thing holding me back?

I do this thing that I am sure many of you do. I do it really well—until I do not.
Maybe that is the lie we tell ourselves: I can handle this. I can take this on.

At first, the signs are subtle. A little fatigue. A passing thought that maybe I should slow down, pause, take a break. And then… I am forced to stop.

I see this pattern in many of my clients. They push and push—until their bodies or lives demand they slow down. I am just as stubborn. I have built systems of control, disguised as protection and sometimes even connection. It is powerful.

Have you guessed what it is?

Control.

The High Achiever’s Relationship with Control

I love control. And honestly, I have never met a high achiever who did not.

The origin of that control varies, but what I see most often in therapy goes back to childhood. Somewhere along the way, something happened. An adverse childhood experience (ACE): physical, emotional, sexual, or psychological harm. Or maybe it was not abuse at all—maybe it was instability, poverty, a mentally ill parent, divorce, or loss.

[ACEs (Adverse Childhood Experiences) are potentially traumatic events that occur in childhood and can have long-term impacts on health and well-being. Learn more about the ACE study here: CDC ACE Study]

The unifying theme? Fear. Lack of safety. Lack of control.

As children with developing brains, we internalize what happens to us. Without context or emotional regulation, we make sense of chaos the only way we know how:

I am bad.
It was my fault.
I should have known better.
I am unlovable.

Parents often do not realize this internalization is happening. They are surviving—trying to provide, keep everyone fed, just make it through the day. And when the brain is in survival mode, the emotional centers responsible for attunement and empathy often go offline. When we are in survival mode, our brain prioritizes safety over connection. The amygdala—our brain’s fear center—becomes more active, while the prefrontal cortex, responsible for logic and empathy, goes offline.

Control Becomes the Response to Chaos

These narratives grow up with us. I see clients in their 30s, 40s, and beyond still operating from belief systems that were formed when they were seven. And because these beliefs are reinforced over time, they feel true.

To survive, we reach for control.

Control whispers: If you do everything right, nothing will fall apart.
But control is just fear in disguise—pretending to protect us, while quietly running the show.

A Personal Story

Here is one I am a little embarrassed to tell—because I can see it clearly now.

I experience intense anxiety before flying. Very common. But for me, it starts days ahead of the trip. Control shows up early: packing, planning, checking the weather, anticipating every possible hiccup.

It can take me hours to pack for a weekend trip. I try on every outfit. I double-check every item, even though I am always flying to places where there are stores.

One trip, I was checking a bag at a self-serve kiosk. The bag tag would not print. I became visibly upset—tense, frustrated, unraveling. My husband later told me a group of young girls had started watching because I looked completely out of control.

It was a simple moment. But internally, it felt severe. That is how control works: it tells you that falling apart is around every corner unless you micromanage everything.

I never want to be that person at the airport again.

The Trick of Control

Control feels like certainty.
It looks like preparedness.
It is praised as leadership and responsibility.

But it is still fear.

It isolates.
It numbs.
It disconnects.

Control says: You are safe. You are untouchable.
But it is a lonely kind of safety.

We build rigid systems so that nothing unexpected can break through. But the truth is:

Suffering is part of the human experience.
You cannot out-plan it. You cannot out-perform it. You can only face it—with support, with awareness, with connection.