The Lie of the Circle of Control

Amy Gordon
6 min readOct 12, 2021

We’ve all heard of this concept by now. You can’t control what goes on around you or what other people do, but you can control your actions and reactions, thoughts, feelings, mood, etc. I recently saw it illustrated yet again on Facebook in the following poorly-cropped image:

A circle with heading: “What I can control.” Items in the circle: doing my homework, respecting property, being kind, being accountable, studying for tests, the friends I choose to have, my decisions, forgiving, how I respond to challenges, trying again, how I spend my free time, doing my chores, taking care of myself, being honest, asking for help, working hard, how I respond to others, apologizing. Outside the circle items: skin color, who loves me, height, others being kind, others cut off.
The Circle of Control

Other illustrations include a second circle outside of the circle of control labeled the “circle of influence,” which includes people or situations you have some sway with but can’t control directly. I prefer that model, but I find the entire concept problematic. While it makes sense to personally let go of worries over things we can’t control, I feel like inclusion in the circle of control allows us to lay blame, set unrealistic expectations of ourselves and others, and otherwise choose the criteria by which we pass judgment on the character of others. It reeks of “bootstrap” ideology — though I’ll save that for another post.

I’ll start my criticism of the circle with the concept of self-control. The idea behind the circle of control is that one has control over the self. However, self-control is a finite resource. It runs out, and some days it runs out faster than others. Sure, you can build stamina for your self-control, but you’ll never have an infinite supply, and depending on your experiences, you may have little motivation or opportunity to stretch your supply. Daily or intermittent stressors, uses of self-control (e.g., taking the stairs instead of the elevator or being kind to someone who is rude), and various internal factors like health or sleep deteriorate this internal supply.

Privilege also shifts the amount of self-control a person has to use in a day. My white dad and white-presenting self can go pick up any medication from the pharmacy without being questioned, and I’ve never had a doctor accuse me of trying to get controlled substances by faking pain. My Latina* mother, on the other hand, has been constantly questioned by the vast majority of medical personnel she has encountered. She now sends my dad to pick up her prescription medicine. She lived with bones from her spine occluding more than 50% of her spinal canal for years before doctors finally recognized her need for surgery. This is just one example of how privilege, or lack thereof, can significantly change the amount of daily pain, trauma, gaslighting, and disrespect a person has to use their self-control to overcome.

The circle of control above, especially, is pretty ableist. Ableism is discrimination or exclusion of people based on differences in ability. This can include physical and cognitive differences as well as emotional ones. This goes along with the privilege issue, but also puts some roadblocks directly in the way of accomplishing the “controllable” items above. Consider homework. I have a condition that makes sitting up and working at a computer difficult. There are days when I can’t get more than an hour sitting up without starting to get really faint or sick, and there are others with my condition who can rarely, if ever, stand up. I’ve tried using desks while reclining and lying down, but ultimately I may need to spend a large amount of money on a desk that suits my needs, because current solutions aren’t cutting it. Brain fog makes intellectual work while sitting up extremely difficult, but finances add another barrier to my ability to do something as simple as homework. Again, this is just one example of how disability can change a person’s control over their actions.

The outside of the circle pictured above includes skin color and height, but weight is conspicuously absent. Control over weight is something most Americans believe in, but the truth is that people do not have the kind of conscious control they think they have — our bodies are weight-maintaining machines, and messing with that balance in any way has unpredictable and uncontrollable consequences**. We talk a lot about what we can and cannot control, but often we’re just plain wrong about what exactly we have control over.

So to review, the basics of human behavior make self-control a limited resource, meaning that we’re unlikely to be able to control all of the items in the “circle of control” all of the time. Privilege and the diversity of human experiences make self-control something that gets used at different rates by different people in different situations. Ability can drastically change what a person can control. On top of all of that, we are still bad at judging what is and is not within even a very “typical” person’s control.

You are responsible for controlling yourself, but everyone makes mistakes. Nobody can perfectly control themselves. Nobody is in control of the whole “circle of control” all at once, and nobody can reasonably expect another person to be either. Circles of control, in reality, differ from person to person and moment to moment. We can’t judge each other based on what we think others should be controlling. Frankly, we should all be careful about how we judge ourselves on criteria like this. The idea of the circle of control is based on what is internal and what is external, but it ignores the fact that there are internal and external barriers to internal control, and those barriers and real and valid.

Real-life control is more like a bucket. We can only control what we can fit in our bucket after circumstance has taken up the space it will. There are hundreds of things in our lives we would like to control, and even among those that could fit in our bucket, we can only choose enough to fill the space we have. Some days, my bucket is full of PMS and apologizing. Other days, I can only carry being kind to my family and taking some time to write a blog post. On my best days, I’m nice to everyone, get lots of housework done, write an amazing essay, and spend an hour training my dog — because my bucket wasn’t filled against my will by a child’s meltdown or forgetting to take my meds. May we spend our days unconcerned with what’s in our buckets or anyone else’s, but having mercy for others in this out-of-control world.

I suggest claiming control of a few things that are absolutely necessary, like asking for help, apologizing, being respectful, and (if possible, because it’s not always possible) self care. Put everything else in the “circle of sometimes control,” and pick what you need to work on that day. Give yourself a break when self-control-eating events arise. They will just about every day.

What’s in your circle of control for today? What’s in your circle of sometimes control? What’s in your circle of things people think you should control, but you never will***?

* Did you know that “Latinx” is not pronounceable according to the phonological rules of Spanish? Spanish speakers might pronounce it “Latinequis,” and it just doesn’t work. Use of “Latinx” is colonization — something I thought we’d agreed not to do. “Latin,” “Hispanic,” and even “Latine” are words that people of the heritage use and can pronounce in Spanish. It’s important that we don’t tell people that their language is insufficient to describe them appropriately.

** “Maintenance Phase” is an amazing podcast on this topic.

*** I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard childless people say, “Control your kids!” My kids are absolutely on the list of things I will never control. They’re other people, and trying to control other people never works out. I can try to be a good example, teach them good behavior, meet their needs, etc., but I can’t control them. And let’s be honest, setting an example and teaching are in my circle of sometimes control.

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Amy Gordon

Person, daughter, wife, mom, teacher, advocate for diverse ability and neurology, watcher of television, and lover of eating.