#control

#control

When you're the one who organizes the family vacation, calls the plumber for your parents, and coordinates every Mother's Day gift, it's easy to feel resentful that nobody else is stepping up to help. Often, the eldest daughter is the one who notices-and in noticing, begins to believe she's responsible. Family researchers have long described this as intergenerational vigilance (Miller-Ott et al., 2017), a sense of watchfulness passed down through gendered expectations.

At the core of OCPD is a pervasive preoccupation with order, control, and perfectionism, governed by a strict set of internal rules about how things should be done. These rules are not seen as preferences but as objective truths.· Non-conformists directly violate these rules. Their behavior signals that the OCPD individual's "correct" way is not the only way, which can feel destabilizing and threatening to their entire worldview.

For years, I thought strength meant pushing through. Getting on with it. Holding it together no matter what. Not showing weakness. Not needing help. Not slowing down. Even when I was diagnosed with a chronic illness, I wore that mindset like armor. I was determined not to let it define me-let alone derail me. But eventually, it did. Not because I was weak. But because I was human. And that was the beginning of a different kind of strength.

People who like to feel in control often try to manage uncertainty by overthinking everything. They want to eliminate mistakes and surprises.

I've learned that vulnerability actually opens more doors than it closes. It's soft, it's relatable, it makes me more human and less robotic, which diminishes toxic boss vibes.

This lighthearted tone permeates every aspect of the game. Director Mike Kayatta says that if Control is 80 percent atmospheric horror and 20 percent absurdity, FBC: Firebreak flips that ratio, leaning into the silliness.

Instead of worrying about all of life's "what ifs," trust that you'll be able to handle whatever comes your way.