Anxiety Management: Why You Need to Rethink Your Relationship with Control
By Sophie — I'm not your therapist, but I'll listen like one. No judgment, just honest space. ·
It’s September 2026, and if you’re anything like me, you’re feeling that distinct, post-summer shift. The air in Brooklyn is getting crisp, the leaves are starting to turn, and for some reason, my nervous system decided that this was the perfect time to go into full-on high-alert mode.
I’ve spent the last three weeks oscillating between that productive, ‘new-season-new-me’ energy and the kind of low-level dread that makes me want to crawl under a weighted blanket and stay there until 2027. If you’ve been following my journey, you know I’ve written about why we shouldn’t try to 'fix' thoughts or force ourselves into a fake state of calm. But today, I want to talk about the hidden engine behind most of our anxiety: the desperate, exhausting, and ultimately futile need for control.
The Illusion of the Steering Wheel
When I was in my clinical research days, I used to think of anxiety as a bug in the software—something to be debugged, patched, and deleted. I treated my own life like a lab experiment. If I optimize my morning routine, if I track my macros, if I set enough boundaries with my dad, surely the anxiety will pack its bags and leave.
Spoiler alert: It didn’t.
Anxiety management isn't about white-knuckling the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. It’s actually about recognizing when you’re trying to control things that are fundamentally un-controllable. When we’re anxious, we play out every 'what if' scenario because we think that if we visualize the disaster, we can prevent it. It’s a protection mechanism, but it’s a tired one. It leaves us depleted and hyper-vigilant, constantly scanning the horizon for a storm that might not even be coming.
Moving from ‘Control’ to ‘Capacity’
Instead of trying to shrink the world so it feels manageable, I’ve started focusing on expanding my capacity to sit with the unmanageable. This is a subtle shift, but it changes everything.
When you feel that familiar tightness in your chest—that signal that your brain is trying to predict the future—try this: instead of asking 'How do I stop this?' ask, 'What is my body asking for right now?'
Usually, the answer isn’t a high-level strategy or a complicated breathing exercise. It’s often something tiny. A glass of cold water. Changing out of the clothes you’ve been wearing all day. Five minutes of staring at a wall without a screen in your hand. We often overlook these micro-adjustments because they don’t feel like 'work,' but they are the bedrock of nervous system regulation.
The ‘Safe Enough’ Reality Check
One of the most grounding things my therapist said to me recently was: 'Sophie, you don’t need to be perfectly safe. You just need to be safe enough.'
Anxiety thrives on the demand for absolute certainty. It demands to know exactly how the career pivot will go, or how that awkward conversation with a family member will end. But life doesn't offer guarantees. When I’m spiraling, I practice what I call the 'Safe Enough' audit. I look around my apartment—my safe space—and I list three things that are physically stable. The floor under my feet. The weight of my coffee mug. The sound of the radiator clicking on.
It’s not about ignoring the problem; it’s about reminding your primitive brain that in this exact, specific second, there is no tiger chasing you. You have the capacity to handle whatever comes next, even if you don't know what that 'next' is yet.
Reclaiming Your Energy
I’ve realized that the more I try to suppress my anxiety, the more fuel I give it. It’s like trying to hold a beach ball underwater—eventually, your arms give out and it pops up, usually in the most inconvenient way possible.
Instead, I’ve started giving my anxiety a 'seat at the table.' I acknowledge it. I’ll literally say, out loud, 'I see you, anxiety. You’re trying to protect me, but I’ve got this.' It sounds a little ‘woo-woo,’ but it creates a psychological distance between me and the feeling. You are not your anxiety. You are the person experiencing the anxiety. That distinction is where your power lives.
A Gentle Reminder for the Week Ahead
We’re entering a season of change. It’s okay if your nervous system is a little bit loud right now. You aren't failing at wellness because you’re feeling overwhelmed; you’re just human.
If you’re feeling stuck, don’t feel like you have to have a major breakthrough today. Just focus on one thing that helps you feel a tiny bit more present in your own life. Maybe it’s putting your phone in a drawer for an hour, or maybe it’s just giving yourself permission to cancel one plan that’s draining your battery.
I’m right here in the thick of it with you, learning to let go of the wheel a little bit at a time. How are you holding up this week? I’d love to hear what’s on your mind—my inbox is always open if you need a space to dump the thoughts that are keeping you up at night.
Talk soon.