When Control Is Just a Cover: What’s Beneath Our Reactions

Most of the time, people notice the reaction: the outburst, the silence, the tension, the defensiveness. That’s what shows up at meetings, at dinner tables, during stressful conversations. That’s what gets called out.  But what’s rarely addressed is the why beneath it all.

We see the response, anger, pride, anxiety, but not the root. And truthfully, many of us don’t understand where our own reactions come from. We were never taught how to trace them back to their origin. But if we don’t, those reactions begin to define us, and often damage the relationships we care about most.

The Reaction Is Just the Surface

We all have default responses. Some of us power up, take control, and act like we don’t need anyone. Others shut down, overthink, or withdraw in fear. Some micromanage because we’re afraid of being blindsided. Others isolate to avoid the shame of “getting it wrong” again.

Sometimes it’s fear. Sometimes it’s pride. Often, it’s both.

Take pride, for example. It’s not always loud. Sometimes pride is quiet self-sufficiency—“I got this.” It's the refusal to ask for help because somewhere along the way, we learned that needing others made us look weak or incompetent. It’s the inner vow: I won’t be a burden. I’ll handle it myself.

Or maybe it’s fear of being seen as inadequate, planted long ago when we were compared to a sibling, told we weren’t enough, or praised only for performance. That’s not just fear; that’s survival. That’s trying to earn belonging by being “better.”

Over time, these roots run deep. And if left unexplored, they show up in our parenting, our marriages, our leadership, even our faith. Panic attacks. Perfectionism. Control. Avoidance. Criticism. We begin to live from reaction instead of reflection.

My Story: When Fear and Pride Collided

Seven years ago, when my mom was diagnosed with cancer, I didn’t slow down to process. I went straight into planning. I booked a flight, packed my bags, made a checklist. I researched every detail. I didn’t cry. I didn’t pray. I just did.

From the outside, it looked like strength. But underneath? It was fear, pride, and pressure all tangled together.  I was terrified of losing the one person who had always loved me unconditionally. But I was also afraid of looking weak or failing my family. I convinced myself I had to get it right. I couldn’t afford to fall apart.  That drive didn’t start with her diagnosis. It had been growing in me for years, shaped by comparisons, by unspoken pressure to be more, to never drop the ball. The need to prove myself was deeply rooted.

But no amount of planning could prepare me for what came next. The medical system felt cold. Mistakes were made. And I was left staring at the grief I had tried so hard to outrun.

One day, in total desperation, I walked to a nearby park, sat on a bench, and cried until I had no tears left. I called out to the Lord, not with polished words, but with broken, desperate honesty. Back at my parents’ house later that night, our pastor came to visit. He prayed. He worshiped. And then he spoke a word, one only the Holy Spirit could’ve given him.  Something in me broke. Not in shame, but in surrender.  And in that moment, I realized: I should’ve started there.

What I Learned About the Root

My pain cycle had been triggered. Like many of us, I responded with what was familiar, control, defensiveness, perfectionism, withdrawal.  But when I let God into that deeper space, I saw the truth: My reactivity was rooted in pride and fear. And both had been masquerading as strength.

I didn’t need to be stronger. I needed to be still.  When I finally surrendered, people showed up. A kind, competent doctor entered the picture. Friends gathered around us. I wasn’t carrying it alone anymore. Surrender created space for clarity, peace, and unexpected provision.

One verse carried me:   “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” – Exodus 14:14

That became my anchor. A daily reminder that God doesn’t need my hustle. He asks for my heart. My trust. My surrender.

What About You?

What’s your go-to reaction when life feels out of control? Is it control? Withdrawal? Overcompensation? Criticism?  What are you trying to protect?  More importantly, what’s at the root?

Maybe you grew up in a home where fear filled the air.
Maybe you were praised only when you performed.
Maybe you still carry the labels others gave you, and wear them like armor.
Maybe pride has protected you from the vulnerability of asking for help.

Whatever it is… God sees it.  He doesn’t just call out the reaction. He invites you to bring Him the root. Because it’s there, in the unseen places, where real transformation begins.

One Last Word

If you’re realizing your reactions are tied to deeper wounds, don’t ignore them. You’re not weak for needing help. You’re human. And healing is possible.

I encourage you: talk to someone. A counselor. A mentor. Someone wise, safe, and Spirit-led who can walk with you as you trace the pain back to its root and begin to walk in freedom. And if you don’t know where to start…Start with God.

Release it to Him. You don’t need perfect words. Just your honest heart. Cry out. Journal. Sit in silence. Whisper His name. He’s not intimidated by your fear, pride, or pain. He longs to carry what you’ve been holding far too long.

There is no healing without honesty. And no restoration without surrender. But on the other side of both, there is peace. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18

A Prayer for Surrender and Healing

Father God,
You see what no one else sees.You know the roots beneath our reactions, the fears we hide, the pride   we carry, the burdens we’ve tried to manage on our own. And still… You meet us with compassion.

Today, we lay it all before You. The urge to control. The fear of not being enough. The weight of proving ourselves.  The ache we rarely speak of. Search our hearts, Lord.  Reveal what we’ve buried and teach us how to bring it into Your healing light.  We don’t want to live from reaction, we want to live from redemption.

Give us the courage to be still.  To trust You with the places we’ve protected for far too long. To let go of the need to perform, and simply rest in Your presence.  To find strength not in striving, but in surrender. Surround us with Your peace. Place people in our lives who will walk with us wisely. And remind us, again and again, that You are near to the brokenhearted and mighty to save.

We release what we’ve been holding. We receive what only You can give.  And we trust that on the other side of surrender… there is healing.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.