Control freak

  I have written and rewritten this post several times in an effort to control the narrative. To control the thoughts I put out into the world.  I'd like to believe that I can control your perception of me. 
  Just like how I used to believe that I was good at hiding my emotions.  I thought I was generally a cheerfully stoic person, then I realized I was leaking emotion all over the place.  Then I thought that maybe I was only leaking the emotions I wanted people to see.  False.  I was shedding emotion all over the place like a dog in springtime.  Clumps of emotion would wind up all over everything and definitely clogged my vacuum cleaner...and I think I may have taken this analogy to its limit.
  This is not the first time I've talked about my issues with control and trust. Just in the past week, I've talked about It with at least 7 people.  I'm also sure it is also not the last time I will talk about it.
  I've always valued the appearance of independence and I've always thought that I could do anything all by myself. After all, I got a job, moved to Maryland, found a place to live, bought a car, changed the oil in my car, applied to a master's program, made friends, built a life, and I did it all on my own...except...
  I did none of this on my own.  There were people all along the way who gave me a chance, a place to live, taught me how to change my oil, supported me, made me soup when I got sick or listened when things got hard. People who cared what happened to me and how I was doing. 
  Even if there was nobody in my life, there would still be someone guiding my life.  Someone who has a plan bigger than the one I am sure I want for myself. And this is where it gets hard. 
  This invisible, omniscient, omnipresent person needs me to trust that He knows what is best; that His plan is much better than mine. I'm not good at trust.
  Sometimes it feels like I've been blindfolded, led to the edge of what I'm sure is a giant cliff and told to take a leap of faith.  I have to jump off and trust that there is either moving water (to break the surface tension) or lots of cushioning at the bottom.  Or maybe it isn't really a cliff? Maybe in my head, I've built this up to be more than it is. 
  Maybe I'll jump forward and find that all my fears were kinda dumb. 
  In the past, when I finally stop pacing and manage to take the tiniest step forward; the smallest leap of faith, I find the happiness and peace that comes from knowing that someone else is in control and I don't have to worry, I just have to trust and do my best with what's been handed to me.
  The control freak in me wants to know how long this current shift is going to take.