I like it when the universe provides me a thematically-associated set of triggers to point me at a blog topic. This time around we’re looking at the concept of the “locus of control”, the aspect of ourselves that enables us to either internalize and trust our personal agency, or leads us to believe we have little to no control over ourselves and we’re simply reactive agents to external forces operating upon us.

In psychology, the locus of control is often tied to the individual experience of success or failure. In relationships, however, the locus of control issue manifests a variety of ways, from the learned helplessness of a victim stance, to a common but insidious relinquishing of response agency in favour of reactivity.

This latter issue is one that has been cropping up recently in multiple conversations in and out of the therapy office. My observations of its simplest form look like this:

“I’m waiting for X to decide what to do, and the not-knowing is driving me crazy.”
“I can’t be happy/calm/less anxious until my partner is happy/calm/less anxious, but whenever I try to fix things, it seems to make everything worse.”
“I walk on eggshells whenever I don’t know what’s happening.”
“I don’t know where I end and you begin.”

Assuming we’re not dealing with any known trauma-based reactivity in the situation (hyper-vigilance as a trauma/abuse response, for example, is a whole different kettle of fish), these kinds of statements can indicate the presence of what we consider to be an externalized locus of control.

Externalizing the locus is another way of describing what Murray Bowen’s Family Systems theory describes as enmeshment or “emotional fusion”:

“Emotional fusion is emotional togetherness without the freedom of individuality. It is an unseen, unhealthy, emotional attachment where people lose their sense of self and […] unique identity […]. Emotionally fused people are needy. They look to others to mirror to them their sense of identity. Because their identity is defined by others, they require constant validation, becoming what they think others want them to be. When that occurs, relationships are not as fulfilling as they could be and there can be a sense of emptiness and feelings of ?I?m not enough,? or ?what?s wrong with me.? Emotional fusion can also lead to feelings of detachment and even rebellion in families as those who are hurting try to gain a sense of self.” — Kathryn Manley, MS, LPC, CST, “Be Yourself: Don?t Become Emotionally Fused,” April 16, 2015 for www.agapechristiancounselingservices.org

When we create healthy bonds in intimate relationships, we achieve in effect a kind of emotional co-regulation that includes all kinds of good things, like validation, secure attachment, supportive and reciprocal emotional labour. When we don’t have a healthy bond, when we have unhealthy or ineffective (or completely absent) boundaries within our intimate relationships, then all kinds of issues arise. We feel we can’t act independently, but must tie our emotional options reactively to other people’s choices–prioritizing their behaviours, choices, needs above our own without balance. We absorb a need to control partners, or at least their emotional states, so that we can mitigate our own, rather than maintaining clearer boundaries around “what’s your reactivity” and “what’s my reactivity” to focus on more effectively regulating our own experiences internally.

There’s a fine line between effective collaboration–choosing or creating plans with a partner that effectively reflect multiple sets of needs, values, and perspectives–and an externally projected or fused locus of control, in which we feel like we CANNOT function except as a reaction to someone else’s behaviours. If a client expresses frustration and helplessness, we almost always come back to explore where the control in the situation seems (to the client’s perspective) to reside.

Image used with permission, courtesy Teresa Gregory, LPC, MAAT, ATR-P
Psychotherapist | Art Therapist

In my observations, there are some common indicators signalling potential externalized locus issues:

  • constantly waiting for someone else to say or do something so we know how to react, rather than creating initial responses that address our own needs
  • waiting or allowing other people to define what is right for us
  • requiring or responding ONLY to (or even primarily to) external validation, and feeling anxious or out of sorts when that external validation is absent (see also, broken mirrors)
  • increasing sense of responsibility and self-blame about things that go wrong in other people’s thoughts, feelings, and behaviors (in some cases, internalizing responsibility for other people’s actions is actually more about hanging our sense of self-worth on other people; it’s both a complicated self-esteem issue, AND a case of putting our self-identity in the hands of other people–a definite externalization of our locus of control)
  • feeling like we have to accept whatever comes our way from our partners, that we have no control and/or no right to ask for anything different
  • attributing even the good things that happen in our relationships to outside factors, rather than to anything we have done or factors intrinsic to ourselves

(There are some other indicators for emotional fusion in relationship listed in this article here.)

“Locus of control is often viewed as an inborn personality component. However, there is also evidence that it is shaped by childhood experiences?including children?s interactions with their parents. Children who were raised by parents who encouraged their independence and helped them to learn the connection between actions and their consequences tended to have a more well developed internal locus of control.” Richard B. Joelson DSW, LCSW, “Locus of Control: How do we determine our successes and failures?” Aug 02, 2017 for www.psychologytoday.com

There isn’t a lot of significant study yet into the family of origin impact on internal versus external locus development, though some research suggests that “Warmth, supportiveness and parental encouragement seem to be essential for development of an internal locus”. How we form and view our connections to the world around us is often informed by family models, however, often in tandem with experiences that reinforce those inherited perspectives. Ergo, it makes a certain amount of sense that we carry into our intimate adult relationships a degree of conditioning about where our personal source of agency lies. We learn through a variety of mechanisms that our success or safety or happiness is intrinsically tied to making other people successful or safe or happy, be it parents, partners, employers, children, or any other external force. This is a common underlying theme for caretakers and self-sacrificing nurturers in particular. Nurturance isn’t in and of itself a negative thing, but when we feel we cannot function unless it be in reaction to Other People’s Needs, to the point of forgetting or denying or downgrading our own repetitively, THEN there’s an externalized locus of control issue.

Part of the struggle to correct externalized loci once we’ve identified them, however, is that there is often a comorbid self-esteem issue. After a lifetime of externalizing one’s sense of validation and self-worth, it becomes difficult to trust that we even have our own needs, or have the right to ask them be met in relationships defined up to this point by our caretaking others. We have to confront anxiety issues around separating our choices from other people’s reactions; emotional initiative seems risky, if not selfish, and hard to find a balance between “you do you and I’ll do me” and feeling like we’re somehow abandoning our emotionally enmeshed posts.

What Harriet Lerner calls the “distancer-pursuer” dynamic becomes another key indicator of externalized loci in intimate relationships:

“A partner with pursuing behavior tends to respond to relationship stress by moving toward the other. They seek communication, discussion, togetherness, and expression. They are urgent in their efforts to fix what they think is wrong. They are anxious about the distance their partner has created and take it personally.

They criticize their partner for being emotionally unavailable. They believe they have superior values. If they fail to connect, they will collapse into a cold, detached state. They are labeled needy, demanding, and nagging.

A partner with distancing behavior tends to respond to relationship stress by moving away from the other. They want physical and emotional distance. They have difficulty with vulnerability.

They respond to their anxiety by retreating into other activities to distract themselves. They see themselves as private and self-reliant. They are most approachable when they don?t feel pressured, pushed, or pursued. They are labeled unavailable, withholding, and shut down.” — Steve Horsmon, “How to Avoid the Pursuer-Distancer Pattern in Your Relationship”, March 6, 2017 for www.gottman.com

When we project our locus of control onto another, and that other person moves emotionally away from us somehow, OF COURSE we’re going to feel destabilized: anxious, upset, fearful, even threatened. It’s like an important part of us is being taken away, though in truth it’s more like we’re giving it away. The lack of autonomy that we feel binds or traps us, the zero tolerance for a partner’s differing perspective or opinion that threatens us–these are indicators that we have tied ourselves to someone else, that we have given our agency and control of our own emotional selves over to them… whether they have asked for and consented to that control or not. Re-developing in INTERNAL locus of control, therefore, involves a multipronged approach:

  • rebuilding self-esteem
  • developing self-trust in our choices and actions
  • internally validating our own thoughts and feelings
  • creating boundaries around our emotional experiences and those of others
  • recognizing the potential impact of our behaviours without over-assuming ownership of other people’s reactions to them (which can tie back to learning how and when to apologize effectively when we’ve transgressed)

Seems like a lot of work when we break it down like that, right? None of these steps, in and of itself, will be a small piece of work. We know that. Bringing home an individual’s locus of control is pretty much “core definition” work, for people who have never had, or never been allowed to have, a strong sense of differentiated self in their lives. As a therapist, I can’t sugar-coat what kind of challenge this sort of work will be for many. But consider the alternative…

Two weeks ago, in response to my post about differentiating between “selfish” and “self-centric”, a friend commented about “the aspect of trusting our feelings in determining our own needs and wants […] in a world that constantly tells [us] we’re “over-reacting” or “imagining it,” etc.”. Internalizing our individual locus of control is ALL about differentiating the “I” from the “we” or the “you”, in a world that tries to teach us that “There is no ‘I’ in ‘team’.” Yes, it’s potentially some significant amounts of personal development to establish healthy differentiation in a relational system, especially for those raised in cultures, communities, families, or relationships where good boundaries are a foreign concept, or systemically destroyed from the outset. At the end of the day, however, the more we know and strengthen in ourselves, the more we have to build on when we get into relationships with others.

It’s not about jettisoning the “we”, but it IS about establishing boundaries that break the fusion, that provide us with tools to self-regulate when we don’t actually know what’s going on with or inside our partners, to break off the clinging pursuit, to work on settling our selves BEFORE we wade in to do something to or for someone else. There is a huge difference between “I want to be happy with you and be happy with myself”, and “I can’t be happy UNLESS you’re happy” (or “I need to fix your unhappiness before I can be happy myself”). The problems lie when we make our own state conditional upon, and therefore subordinate to, the state of another.

We have to do this work in a way that doesn’t keep reinforcing the enmeshment ideal of, “I contribute or affect to the success of this relationship by FIXING THE OTHER PERSON”, a tangent that comes up periodically in relational work; that still supports an externalized locus of control by hanging the idea of success on said Other Person accepting our efforts to fix them/us/the relationship. That’s not how this process is meant to be interpreted. It’s more along the lines of, “How do I become the best Me that I can? What do I bring to benefit the relationship by being confident and secure in myself?”

Breaking enmeshment or fusion and (re-)establishing an internal locus of control puts us back in control of our own lives, in charge of our own emotional well-being. It decreases our dependency on someone else’s emotional condition, and decreases the amount of emotional labour we need to do just to maintain status quo, because we’re primarily addressing our own needs and state and building faith in *that*, which can overall decrease our reactive tension in relationship and also leave us open for healthier ways of approaching intimacy.

Self-Development, self-perception

One of the factors that often seems to come with anxiety and depression for many is the experience of poor self-esteem, a distorted vision of ourselves or a devalued sense of worth reflecting what we believe other people think of us. For those individuals dealing with cognitive depression especially, the kind that comes with burdensome negative self-talk narratives, the self-esteem challenges are pretty much a given. Part of the work in therapy with these kinds of clients involves constructing (or reconstructing, if the absence of self-esteem is something that can be traced to a clear source of systemic erosion) a sense of intrinsic value, or unconditional human worth:

Howard?s Laws of Human Worth
Unconditional worth means that you are valuable as a person, important, because your essential core self is unique, eternal, precious, of infinite unchanging value and inherently good. You are as precious as any other person.

  1. All beings have internal, infinite, eternal and unconditional worth as persons.
  2. All have equal worth as people. Worth is not comparative or competitive. Although you might be better at sports, academics, or business, and I might be better in social skills, we both have equal worth as human beings.
  3. Externals neither add to nor diminish worth. Externals include things like money, looks, performance, and achievements. These only increase one?s market or social worth. Worth as a person, however, is infinite and unchanging.
  4. Worth is stable and never in jeopardy (even if someone rejects you). Worth doesn?t have to be earned or proved. It already exists. Just recognize, accept, and appreciate.
  5. Worth doesn?t have to earned or proved. It already exists. Just recognize , accept and appreciate it.

Claudia A. Howard (1992) [as read here]

Low self-esteem generally manifests as narratives along the line of, “I’m not worth anyone’s time [attention/effort/love/desire/respect/etc.]”, and “It’s not worth taking an effort or risk because I won’t get it right, or the results won’t be worth it”, for example. We fear the repercussions of failed efforts because we tie our value, our self-worth, to external events like job or relationship success.

“When worth equals externals, self-esteem rises and falls along with events. […] for adults, the highs may come with promotions, awards […]. The lows may come with criticism, poor performance or when [you or] your team loses. If your worth equals your job or your marriage, how will you feel if you realize you have already gotten your last promotion or if you divorce? Your feelings would probably go beyond the normal and appropriate sadness and disappointment. When worth is in doubt, depression usually follows. If human worth equals market worth, then only the rich and powerful have worth. By this line of thinking, a Donald Trump or a Hitler would have more human worth than a Mother Theresa.”
Glenn Schiraldi, The Self-Esteem Workbook, p. 33

Working through self-esteem narratives with a cognitive-behavioural approach tends to help many, by allowing them space to introduce counterscripting that often starts with awareness and acceptance (we don’t leap immediately to attempting outright self-love, because that’s a difficult pinnacle to reach for people with self-esteem issues, and we try to avoid setting our clients up for failure right off the starting block). We begin with introducing a better understanding of intrinsic human worth, as with Howard’s Laws, above. These tenets become a working mantra to underpin the work that follows; everything points back to this developing understanding of intrinsic value.

We then begin to develop self-observation and reflection: what are the thoughts we’re aware of, and what feelings come along for the ride when we catch ourselves in those thoughts? We separate the thoughts from the feelings and challenge the thoughts: Is this true? What evidence do I have to support it? What evidence might I have to counter it? We introduce the counterscripts, like “I accept myself as being MORE than my weaknesses or mistakes”, and “Criticism is an external force; I can examine it for ways to improve WITHOUT concluding that being criticized makes me less of a human being.”

We also explore the feelings that are tied to these narratives. Sometimes we can get a sense of where they started and what they root in, but most commonly we work simply in the present experience: we feel bad now when we buy into the poor self-esteem narratives, but we assume we will feel worse when we receive other people’s evaluations of our low worth. Poor self-esteem, regardless of where it originates, tells us we are unworthy of love, especially unconditional love; our worth is tied ENTIRELY to our ability to adequately meet or exceed other people’s expectations. We often have a damaged sense of self-love, so we rely on input from others to validate us, and when those reflections are broken or distorted, we believe the worst about ourselves as undeserving beings.

Opening up to a belief that we are intrinsically valuable and worthy of love requires a heady degree of vulnerability. Often self-esteem work will sail or flounder on the individual’s willingness to wade into the weeds of that kind of experience. Trauma survivors, for example, will often find vulnerability exceptionally threatening. Pema Chodron, Buddhist nun, refers to sitting with the discomfort of our own emotional experiences as “leaning into the sharp things”, and this is a metaphor I use a great deal in this kind of work. We walk with the client into those internal places where the early emotional hurts are still festering underneath those “I’m not worthy” narratives. We strap on the armour of, “All humans are intrinsically worthy, therefore I am worthy”, and we face down the demons with a variety of weapons, the biggest of which is a cudgel labelled, “I am worthy of my own love”. And we bear witness while the clients learn how to hold that in themselves, awkwardly at first, and sometimes losing their hold on it completely. We all slip at times; it’s human. We sit with the failure and celebrate the attempt as a counterscript to the client’s default narrative, “I am a failure and therefore not worthy.” We can break down the experience into, “What did I attempt? What did I learn? What do I want to do differently?”, and consider the emotional ties to the answers of each question along the way. Unravelling fear of failure and its ties to external validation is a slow process; we take our time working on stages of self acceptance. We look at the notion of self-love, but in truth, some people will get there while others won’t get much further than an uneasy truce with self-acceptance. We work to the reasonable abilities of our clients, and while we try and expand the comfort zones (by pushing into discomforts as best we can), everyone’s limitations will fall in different places.

Ideally we get to a place where clients can at least make, and connect emotionally (with belief) to positive self-statements. How many statements, and how strong the belief that supports their growing self-esteem, is a very individual outcome. But it’s work that we *can* do to help clients grow out of a sense of being stuck in their own perception of non-value.