Friends, I am in a situation. A good situation, sure, but still a situation. I have multiple job offers, and instead of feeling like a corporate queen who has conquered capitalism, I feel like a squirrel who just ran into the middle of the road and forgot why she was there.

I’ve never been the type to chase the biggest paycheck, the flashiest title, or the most flexible work schedule. Honestly, I don’t even know what people mean when they say “flexible hours.” Are we talking yoga-in-the-middle-of-a-meeting flexible? Or “you can work from home but we’ll still expect you to respond to emails at 10 PM” flexible?

But this time, my priorities are different. I don’t want more money, more vacation days, or even more power. I want more control.

I want the kind of control where I decide what my day looks like. Where I don’t feel like my time is being stolen by endless meetings, pointless projects, or existential dread. Where I can wake up and think, I get to decide how today goes.

And yet, as I stare at these job offers, I realize I don’t actually know how to get that control.

What Does “Control” Even Look Like?

At first, I thought control meant being my own boss. No higher-ups. No performance reviews. No one breathing down my neck asking, “Can we hop on a quick call?” But then I remembered that when you’re self-employed, the client becomes the boss, and suddenly, I pictured myself answering frantic emails at 11 PM while eating cereal straight from the box. That’s not freedom. That’s just chaos with extra steps.

Then I thought, maybe control means doing work that feels deeply me. Work that makes me wake up excited. But then I remembered that even things I love—writing, creating, sharing—can become exhausting when they’re tied to deadlines and expectations.

And then there’s the whole practical side of things. I like financial stability. I like knowing I can afford both rent and fancy cheese if I want to. Is control the ability to never worry about money? Or is it the ability to walk away from money when it doesn’t feel worth it?

The Myth of “Total” Control

Here’s the inconvenient truth: no job will give me 100% control over my life.

Because control isn’t just about my job. It’s about how I live. It’s about whether I let work define my whole identity. It’s about whether I set boundaries instead of hoping the “perfect” job will just hand me freedom.

Control is a daily practice, not a job perk.

So… What Now?

I don’t have a perfect answer, but I do have a plan. If I want control over my life, I need to stop waiting for a job to give it to me and start creating it for myself. That means:

Butter’s Ultimate “I’m in Control” Checklist

✔ Physical Control – Because a body that feels good = a mind that can function.

• No more skipping meals because I “forgot.” I will literally set alarms for lunch.

• Walking, stretching, or doing some form of movement every day so my spine doesn’t turn into a question mark.

• Prioritizing sleep over late-night TikTok spirals (I will fail at this, but I will try).

• Hydrating like a person who respects her organs.

✔ Mental Control – Because my brain deserves to be treated like a temple, not a trash can.

• Saying no to things that drain me, even if I feel guilty.

• Saying yes to things that make me happy, even if they don’t feel “productive.”

• Unplugging from work when the workday is over (I will not let email own me).

• Setting boundaries without apologizing or over-explaining.

✔ Energy Control – Because I only have so much to give, and I’m done wasting it.

• Limiting interactions with people who make me feel like a deflated balloon.

• Scheduling downtime like it’s an important meeting with the CEO of My Sanity.

• Choosing work that excites me over work that just pays well.

• Protecting my mornings like they are sacred, because how I start my day affects everything.

Final Decision?

I still don’t know which job I’ll pick. But I do know this: the job I choose will be the one that gives me the most room to be ME—not the most power, the highest salary, or the biggest title, but the most room.

Room to grow. Room to breathe. Room to live my life without feeling like I’m constantly negotiating for tiny scraps of free time.

And if I mess it up? Well. That’s what snacks and dramatic life rants are for.