When I shared my five goals for 2022—only two of which I actually accomplished—I also shared my word for the year: control.

Yes, there were some amazing moments and firsts that happened this year, but overall, twenty twenty-two (or shall I say, twenty twenty-woops) was an incredibly challenging year. As I made my way through those challenges, I learned a lot about control.

*If you’re looking for a drinking game, take a drink every time you read the word “control.” Trust me, it will get real old real quick.

This one was a tough pill to swallow: I can’t control if people don’t want me in their lives. Depending on the intimacy of the relationship, I can control my initial reaction, but sometimes, I have to let all the feelings out.

Being someone with a curious mind and a friendly face, I find it challenging to control who I form deep connections with. However, this year I learned that I can control my decision to bend over backwards for them.

I’m tired of stretching my neck out for people who won’t do the same for me.

Some people are meant to be in your life for a season, and some are meant to be there for forever. People leaving doesn’t take away from their goodness and genuine souls. People ghosting and silently leaving without a single word… well, that’s a different story.

As much as I try, if my heart is hurting, I cannot control my emotions. My body needs to feel that pain and release those tears. Somewhere along the way, towards the middle of the year, I stopped crying so much. Now, most of the time, the water sits in my eyes like a threat, but the floodgates never open.

I think I cried most of the water out of my body the first half of the year.

Towards the end of the year, I realized I tried to fit into a crowd where I wasn’t genuinely wanted because I was tired of being in an environment that elicited loneliness. Upon this realization, I had to figure out a way to keep the loneliness from consuming me and creating a path of regression.

While I was transitioning hardware locations in mid-May of this year, the mention of me liking to be in control came up—in both locations. One person was talking about controlling my reaction to a relationship if I could see/knew the downfall was coming, and the other was simply about working on a project. Both situations showed me I need to relinquish control.

I can’t control who breaks my heart.
I can’t control a work friend who disappears from the job without a goodbye.
I can’t control when it’s time for someone to physically leave the earth.
I can’t control the other side of a one-sided friendship.
I can’t control the communication between two parties; I refuse to be the messenger.
I can’t control any government.
I can’t control inflation.
I can’t control the weather (and what it does to my hair).
I can’t control the amount of heartache one must endure in a year.

In 2022, I unintentionally learned big lessons about love and deep connections—two things I can’t control, no matter how much I try.