Observations on assumptions, autonomy, and quiet cooperation
There’s a curious habit in people: when they don’t understand a relationship, they try to define it.
They take fragments, assemble conclusions, and then mistake those conclusions for fact.
The result is often a fiction, a comfortable one, but fiction nonetheless.
Sometimes that fiction centres on the idea of control, that one person must be steering the other. Usually, this tells us more about the observer than the relationship they think they’re interpreting.
Below is a brief open letter to that habit, not to any individual, but to the pattern itself.
On Assumptions and Control
People form opinions about relationships they don’t live in.
Fascinating, really, constructing narratives out of fragments, then treating them as evidence.
Occasionally, those opinions arrive at the conclusion that someone must be controlling their partner. The logic is thin. The certainty is remarkable. More often, it reflects the observer’s worldview, not reality.
Control requires two things: ownership and fear. Healthy partnerships run on neither. They run on conversation, disagreement, mutual adjustment, and the occasional quiet moment. Partnership is not possession.
The accusation of control often appears when someone struggles to accept another’s independence. It’s easier to imagine manipulation than to acknowledge that a person might simply think and decide for themselves. That illusion comforts the accuser; it has little to do with reality.
Some people seem to think I’m controlling my partner because I speak openly about the realities of student life or long-term planning. After nearly two decades working in education, eighteen years in a college, I’ve seen how student funding actually works, and how frequently it doesn’t. Most students receive funding that barely covers living costs, forcing long hours of work to stay afloat.
In my partner’s case, studying is simply unfeasible unless her family provides support. Only someone denser than a neutron star would think otherwise.
I have made it clear from the beginning: I do not seek to prevent studying. Any funding my partner receives would need to cover our shared monthly costs, as I am not currently drawing a wage from the social enterprise in its early stages. My intent isn’t to control, it’s to ensure that choices are informed, realistic, and sustainable.
Encouraging study or work is not imposing decisions; it’s supporting independence while allowing me the space to focus on Onyx Dragon and The Lucky Unicorn.
Pregnancy, too, is often misunderstood as a method of control. Most couples discuss children at some point, sometimes over many years. My partner and I have done so for years. This is planning, not control. Even with a child, I am fully capable of managing both Onyx Dragon and The Lucky Unicorn alongside parenting responsibilities. These realities aren’t interference; they’re informed foresight.
Starting a social enterprise requires patience. I’ve been advised not to draw a wage initially, not from neglect or pride, but because stability matters more than short-term income. Building something worthwhile requires endurance, not indulgence.
When Perception Misleads
Autism adds another layer to this misunderstanding.
Autistics often have heightened situational awareness; we notice patterns in behaviour, tone, and inconsistencies that others dismiss. That awareness can easily be mistaken for control, when in fact it’s recognition.
I’m often aware of inconsistencies in people’s words versus their actions. When someone says they want to be friends but acts in ways that contradict that, I notice. At times, I’ve deliberately placed small, harmless lies to test intent, to gauge honesty in people whose words don’t align with their behaviour.
If someone outside the relationship believes I lied to them, perhaps they should ask why I did. Often, it’s because their own conduct suggested conflicting motives or possible harm toward me or my partner. Pattern recognition isn’t paranoia; it’s protection.
Saying I’m “making excuses” doesn’t open dialogue; it shuts it down. It’s more harmful than helpful, because it turns honest explanation into a target for criticism rather than understanding. I communicate directly, and when that effort is met with dismissal instead of engagement, it only reinforces mistrust and silence where conversation could have happened.
When my partner goes to her father after I point out the realities of a situation, it hurts our relationship. It frames her as unwilling to accept practical facts and prevents honest, direct dialogue. Instead of working through challenges together, it creates unnecessary distance and reinforces misunderstandings. Partnership requires facing reality together, not outsourcing disagreement to an outside party who will simply echo one perspective without weighing feasibility.
Another challenge is that my partner sometimes assumes we have far more financial flexibility than we actually do, believing she could study without issue. The reality is that our resources are limited, and pursuing study without careful planning would put both of us under unnecessary financial strain. Highlighting this is not about restricting her freedom; it is about making informed decisions together to protect our shared stability.
My partner’s father sometimes assumes I’m lazy simply because I sit while working. If he understood what an office is, he might be surprised to learn that sitting while planning, strategizing, and coordinating is standard practice and often requires far more mental effort than it appears. Judging effort without understanding the work itself only adds to misperceptions.
For Anyone Obsessed with the Control Narrative
Here’s a correction: what you’re witnessing is not control. It’s foresight applied responsibly. Transparency, dialogue, and shared responsibility, not hidden authority.
Control assumes actions limit another’s freedom; what I do instead is support independence, manage practical realities, and create space for mutual growth.
Cooperation means anticipating challenges, balancing obligations, and respecting boundaries while trusting the other person to make their own choices. Observers may misread this as control because it involves planning, but planning is not possession.
Even common friends see that I am not trying to control my partner, far less insidious than imagined. Misconceptions about annoyance or manipulation are exaggerated. People more often remember me fondly than irritated. True autonomy flourishes when practical realities are acknowledged.
The narrative of control sometimes comes from my partner’s father, fed by anxieties misinterpreted as fact. These concerns stem from worry, not evidence of manipulation.
The irony is that my partner’s father often imagines I’m not doing enough, a daydreamer’s view detached from reality. While he speculates, I’m the one spending hours each day wracking my brain to make our business ventures stable and financially gainful. Starting a social enterprise isn’t glamorous; it’s demanding, complex, and often misunderstood.
What Onyx Dragon sells, ethically sourced teas, coffees, chocolates, and holistic products, already faces the uphill challenge of a saturated market. Competing with cheaper, mass-produced goods from companies like Temu or discount chains only makes things harder, especially when quality, ethics, and sustainability cost more to deliver. Since 2020, disposable income across the UK has taken repeated hits, and small businesses have felt that strain deeply. Even grants that once supported social enterprises have become harder to access or more restrictive in scope.
What might look like stillness from the outside is usually strategy, not stagnation, the quiet work behind building something meaningful in a noisy marketplace.
Sometimes what looks like disagreement is actually projection. When someone feels challenged by reality checks or limits, it can feel easier to label the other person as controlling than to confront the feasibility of their own plans. Supportive relatives, out of love, may reinforce those emotions without questioning the practicality of what’s being discussed. It’s a familiar loop, reassurance replaces reasoning, and the person offering perspective becomes the easy target. Yet objecting to unrealistic plans isn’t control; it’s responsibility wrapped in uncomfortable truth.
Finally, if you’re unwilling to speak directly and are only listening to second-hand reports, kindly keep your nose out. When I state what I am aware of, I am not making excuses, I am speaking from experience and knowledge. Speculation serves no one.
In short, independence is supported, not constrained. Decisions are informed, not imposed.
And if the visible structure of shared responsibility seems threatening, perhaps it’s because genuine equality unsettles those accustomed to simpler narratives.
Closing Reflection
I am not trying to control my partner; I’m trying to help her see how certain choices affect both of us in the long term. Studying, or taking work that involves a three-hour commute one way, is not impossible, but it is impractical without substantial financial support. Recognising this isn’t limiting; it’s realism.
I will not blindly accept any plan that ignores the financial realities we both face. Supporting someone’s independence doesn’t mean pretending that limitations don’t exist. It means facing them together, making informed, sustainable decisions.
Real control isolates. Real control silences. Real control limits growth.
Partnership, true partnership, does none of these things. It invites challenge, independence, and shared strength.
Encouraging someone to be independent while respecting your own responsibilities is not control. It’s recognition that life, work, learning, and planning for the future require balance.
Perhaps it’s time those who misread that distinction learned the difference.
#Independence #Autonomy #Partnership #StudentFinance #SocialEnterprise #InformedChoices #MutualRespect #PlanningNotControl #HealthyRelationships #Boundaries