The wisest stance we can take toward others is to trust that they hold the deepest truth of their inner experience. When we try to control, correct, or reshape another’s path according to our own perspective, we step into struggle—both with them and within ourselves. Yet, we do this more often than we realize.
We do it when we tell our children who they should be before they can define themselves—or when we refuse to honor that definition in adulthood. We do it when we push a friend toward a decision they are not ready to make. We do it when we deny our own needs to fit into the shape others have carved for us. We do it when we judge and condemn the ways people make decisions about their lives—express gender and pursue life paths—that we haven’t taken the time to empirically consider.
These expectations—whether self-imposed or external—create a struggle between control and resistance, leading to cycles of pressure and collapse. It erodes the very essence of what it means to be free, leaving in its wake broken trust and damaged connection.
The Impossibility of Knowing for Another
Buddhist thought teaches that clinging—whether to ideas, identities, or the illusion of control—is the root of suffering. The self is described as ever-changing, fluid, and beyond fixed definitions. To believe we know what is best for another is to grasp at something impermanent, to impose rigid structures onto a reality that is inherently in flux.
Similarly, existentialist philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre argued that each person bears the burden of defining their own existence. He saw human freedom as radical and inescapable, with each individual responsible for the cultivation of their own meaning. Just as Buddhism warns against attachment to fixed identities, Sartre cautioned against allowing external forces to dictate one's path. Both perspectives emphasize the necessity of allowing people to navigate their own truths rather than imposing an external framework upon them.
Just as we cannot cling to a single unchanging identity of ourselves, we cannot assume we hold the full truth of another’s experience. To release this grasping is an act of compassion—not only for them, but for ourselves. By allowing others the space to be as they are, we move toward a state of equanimity, where connection is rooted in acceptance rather than control. This is the only path for relationship that will not collapse under the weight of arrogance.
The Suffering of Control
To dictate how another must live, even in subtle ways, is to engage in suffering—suffering for them, suffering for us. Psychologists Richard Ryan and Edward Deci’s Self-Determination Theory describes autonomy as a fundamental human need—just as essential as food or shelter. When autonomy is denied, people don’t just comply; they react. In relationships, this reaction may look like resentment, grief, numbness, or disconnection. In communities, it breeds oppression or revolution.
This same struggle plays out within us. How often do we quiet our own voice because it doesn’t fit what we were taught to believe? How often do we second-guess what we know because some else’s reality seems more valid than our own?
We stay in jobs, relationships, and roles that drain us simply because they match an external definition of success. We hold back emotions that don’t fit the mold of what we were told was acceptable. We say yes when we mean no. We shrink ourselves to meet expectations and fear disappointing others more than we fear losing ourselves.
The pull between external influence and inner knowing is real. It can be exhausting. But the more we practice tuning in to our own truth, the more we strengthen our ability to trust ourselves—and to walk our own path with confidence.
The Wisdom of Allowing
In Taoism, there is a principle called wu wei, often translated as effortless action. It is not inaction or avoidance, but rather, the discipline of letting things unfold naturally. It is the wisdom of water finding its way through stone, the quiet strength of a seed becoming what it was always meant to be without force or interference.
When we release our grip—on others, on ourselves—we make space for truth to emerge. We allow the current of life to carry us where we are meant to go, rather than exhausting ourselves by swimming against it. We create relationships that are based on mutual respect rather than control and dominance. We find clarity, not through force, but through presence.
Is it possible that this clarity will cause ripples of change in our lives? Most certainly. And for many, this gives rise to what’s at the root of our patterns of control: fear of change and the uncertainty it brings. Let us remember however that fear of change has yet to prevent change from happening. The question is how much suffering for ourselves and others we want to exhaust in the process.
Navigating Trust, Boundaries, and Accountability
Trusting others to know their own path does not mean abandoning discernment or allowing harm to go unchecked. Autonomy and accountability must coexist—true freedom includes (and requires) taking responsibility for one’s actions and their impact on others. Similarly, allowing others space to navigate their truth does not mean enabling destructive behaviors or bypassing the need for ethical boundaries. Healthy relationships require both trust and the ability to set limits where necessary.
Letting go of control also does not mean surrendering the right to protect your own well-being. Without clear boundaries, we either impose too much authority over others or allow ourselves to be overtaken by external influence. Right relationship—both with ourselves and with others—emerges when we balance trust with self-respect, releasing control while still standing firmly in our own truth.
The Invitation to Trust
Imagine, for a moment, what it would feel like to fully trust yourself. To honor what your body knows, what your intuition whispers, and what your deepest self has always been trying to tell you. What shifts when you allow yourself that freedom?
Now, imagine offering that same trust to others. To witness them without needing to fix, shape, or control. To allow space for their choices, just as you long for space to make your own. This isn’t about passivity—it’s about stepping into relationships with clarity and confidence, knowing that true connection isn’t built on control but on respect and trust.
If you find yourself caught in cycles of control—whether constantly trying to meet others’ expectations or struggling to release how others live their lives—you are not alone. These patterns often run deep, shaped by family dynamics, past relationships, and cultural conditioning.
In therapy, I see clients wrestle with these tensions all the time. The weight of trying to be “good enough” for others can be exhausting. The fear of letting go—of stepping into the unknown—can feel paralyzing. Yet, time and again, I’ve witnessed people shift from doubt to clarity, from self-abandonment to self-trust.
This work isn’t easy, but it is liberating. It’s about uncovering the wisdom that already exists within you. It’s about strengthening your ability to move through life with more ease, trust, and confidence in who you are.
If you’re ready to explore the path, I would love to walk alongside you.
Contemplations
Where in your life do you feel the tension between external expectations and your authentic self?
Have you ever felt pressured to follow a path that didn’t feel right for you? How did that impact your well-being?
In what ways do you try to control outcomes—either in your own life or in the lives of others?
What emotions arise when you consider letting go of control and trusting the natural unfolding of life?
Can you think of a time when someone trusted you to make your own choices? How did that affect your sense of self?
Comments