Why Releasing Control Works (My Story)

Recently I stumbled upon a post online that said:

“The more you let go, the faster your desired reality accelerates into being.

Control devours a massive amount of energy—and that creates blockages and detours on the way to your goal.

You cannot force reality into submission through action.

But you can sense the branch of reality that resonates with your soul’s desires, align with it by choosing that reality—and then release any expectations and thoughts about how it will happen.

Don’t act from fear or possessiveness.

Obsession with the outcome and fear of losing it is the road to collapse.

What belongs to you by birthright cannot pass you by.

But you can delay receiving it if you’re constantly fighting, striving, and proving.

The most effective path is to loosen your grip on circumstances and direct your energy only toward the actions that bring joy and renew your strength.”

After reading this, I started replaying my own life—my biggest dreams and the paths that led me to them. And you know what? It’s true. Every time I loosened my grip—almost put a cross over what I wanted—an opportunity arrived to make it real. Here are a few examples.

My first and greatest dream, since childhood, was to live in the United States. At some point, after I’d grown up and finished university, I began thinking too logically—analyzing, interrogating reality with questions like: “But how will I get a visa? How will I even enter the country?” For Russians, it is nearly impossible. First, getting a visa is extraordinarily difficult. Second, even if you do get one, it doesn’t guarantee entry; it only gives you the chance to try. Then came the next worries: “If, for example, I arrive on a tourist visa, how could I possibly stay? What would I do for work?” I have a law degree—useful at home, but not transferable abroad. In other words, practically useless elsewhere. And on it went.

In the end, I decided to stay in Russia, holding onto a smaller hope: that one day I’d at least visit the U.S., drive from coast to coast, and see as many places as I’d dreamed about for years. I settled in Rostov-on-Don and even took out a mortgage. The apartment felt like total capitulation—a formal goodbye to the dream of living in America. It was a new build; I didn’t even have time to finish the renovation when, suddenly, an opportunity appeared to leave the country. Hope returned. The course corrected. And here I am.

Another example is my childhood dream of becoming a model. When I finally reached a point where I could do what I wanted—and not just what my parents said—and when I had my own money, I finished modeling school. I was offered a contract with awful terms; I turned it down. Finding modeling work on my own didn’t go well either. It was Rostov, after all—not Moscow with its greater opportunities. And, to be honest, I never wanted to live in Moscow. I fully surrendered the dream the moment I got my first tattoo. For context: in Russia, being a model with tattoos was essentially impossible—no agency would take you, at least that’s how it was then (I won’t claim how it is now). But the modeling path never quite let go of me. Today I’m a model with years of experience. Not as well-known as I’d like—yet—but I’m working on that.

And just recently, something happened that drew me back to a completely new dream—one that appeared after I moved to the U.S., but which I shelved after several attempts because I didn’t know how to bring it to life and had no one to help me then. It’s too early to write about it in detail, but I can say this: I’ve shifted the direction of my path a little, adjusted my course, so to speak. I’ll definitely write more about it—count on that.

Sometimes life moves when we stop trying to push it. When the hands unclench, doors open. I’ve seen it—more than once.