WHAT DOES IT REALLY MEAN TO PLAY GOD?

One of the most profound passages in the Twelve & Twelve says:

"Either we had tried to play God and dominate those about us, or we had insisted on being overdependent upon them."

At first glance, many people think this passage is talking about controlling behavior. We picture someone who is bossy, demanding, manipulative, or always trying to run the show.

But the longer I stay sober and the more I study recovery, the more I realize this passage is talking about something much deeper.

The real question is not:

"Why do I try to control people?"

The real question is:

"Why do I feel the need to control people in the first place?"

Because healthy people do not spend their lives trying to manage everyone around them.

Healthy people do not obsess over outcomes.

Healthy people do not feel responsible for another person's happiness, recovery, growth, healing, or spiritual condition.

So what is underneath it?

FEAR.

And underneath fear are often wounds we have carried for years.

Many of us grew up in homes where life felt unpredictable. Some of us experienced abandonment. Some of us experienced neglect. Some of us experienced criticism. Some of us grew up around addiction, dysfunction, instability, or emotional inconsistency. We learned very early that people could leave, disappoint us, hurt us, reject us, or fail us.

As children, we developed survival strategies.

Some of us became caretakers.

Some became people pleasers.

Some became rescuers.

Some became perfectionists.

Some became hypervigilant, constantly scanning for danger or trying to stay one step ahead of pain.

Those strategies may have helped us survive childhood, but many of us carried them into adulthood without realizing it.

Now, instead of trying to manage chaos in our childhood homes, we try to manage the people around us.

We try to manage our spouses.

Our children.

Our parents.

Our friends.

Our coworkers.

Our partners.

Even the people we sponsor.

Without realizing it, we begin believing that if everyone would simply do what we think they should do, then we could finally feel safe.

If our child would just make better choices.

If our spouse would just change.

If our friend would just get sober.

If our partner would just communicate.

If our loved one would just work a stronger program.

If everyone would simply do what we know is best, then we could finally relax.

But peace never comes through control.

Control only creates more fear.

The harder we try to control people, the more frustrated we become when they refuse to cooperate. The harder we try to rescue people, the more exhausted we become when they continue making their own choices. The harder we try to manage outcomes, the more disappointed we become when life unfolds differently than we planned.

What the Twelve & Twelve is teaching us is that playing God does not always look like domination.

Sometimes it looks like worry.

Sometimes it looks like anxiety.

Sometimes it looks like obsession.

Sometimes it looks like overthinking.

Sometimes it looks like repeatedly giving advice that nobody asked for.

Sometimes it looks like losing sleep over someone else's decisions.

Sometimes it looks like believing another person's recovery, happiness, growth, or healing somehow depends on us.

The truth is that many of us are not trying to control people.

We are trying to control our fear.

Then there is the other side of the coin.

The Twelve & Twelve says we either tried to dominate people or we became overdependent upon them.

This one can be harder to recognize because it often feels like love.

Instead of controlling others, we begin depending upon them for our emotional security.

We depend upon their approval to feel worthy.

Their attention to feel loved.

Their affection to feel secure.

Their consistency to feel safe.

Their validation to feel enough.

When they show up, we feel okay.

When they pull away, we don't.

When they call, we relax.

When they don't, we become anxious.

When they reassure us, we feel better.

When they don't, fear begins to grow.

The book says both extremes come from the same place:

Fear.

The fear of abandonment.

The fear of rejection.

The fear of being alone.

The fear of not being enough.

The fear of powerlessness.

The fear that somehow we won't be okay.

The problem is not that we care deeply about people.

The problem is that we have unknowingly assigned them a job they were never meant to have.

We have made them responsible for our peace.

No human being can carry that burden.

Not your spouse.

Not your children.

Not your parents.

Not your friends.

Not your sponsor.

Not your partner.

No human being was designed to provide the kind of security that only God can provide.

That is why we become hurt when people pull away. That is why we become disappointed when they don't meet our expectations. That is why resentment grows. We are asking people to give us something they were never created to give us.

The spiritual awakening comes when we begin to see that the problem was not always other people.

Sometimes the problem was our attachment.

Our expectations.

Our demands.

Our belief that if other people would simply behave differently, we would finally be okay.

The Big Book says that is an impossible burden to place upon another human being.

WHAT PLAYING GOD LOOKS LIKE IN REAL LIFE

Playing God does not always look controlling.

Sometimes it looks loving.

Sometimes it looks caring.

Sometimes it even looks responsible.

But underneath it, we are still trying to manage something that belongs to God.

It can look like:

• Feeling responsible for another person's sobriety.

• Constantly checking whether someone is upset with us.

• Replaying conversations over and over in our minds.

• Trying to rescue people from consequences that might actually help them grow.

• Giving advice that was never requested.

• Becoming emotionally devastated when someone makes a choice we don't agree with.

• Believing we know what is best for another person's life.

• Trying to force healing, growth, forgiveness, or change before someone is ready.

• Constantly seeking reassurance, validation, attention, or approval.

• Believing someone else's growth depends upon us.

Most of us are not trying to control people.

We are trying to control our fear.

THE SOLUTION AA OFFERS

The solution is not to stop loving people.

The solution is not to become detached, cold, or indifferent.

The solution is learning where our responsibility ends and God's responsibility begins.

Many of us spend years carrying burdens we were never meant to carry. We worry about our children. We obsess over our spouses. We try to manage our friends' recovery. We lose sleep over decisions other people are making. We convince ourselves that if we can just say the right thing, do the right thing, or love them enough, we can somehow change the outcome.

But that is not faith.

That is fear.

And fear often disguises itself as responsibility.

One of the greatest gifts of recovery is learning the difference between my responsibilities and God's responsibilities.

My responsibilities are:

• Loving people.

• Telling the truth.

• Setting healthy boundaries.

• Praying.

• Being an example.

• Keeping my side of the street clean.

• Trusting the process.

God's responsibilities are:

• Changing hearts.

• Healing wounds.

• Creating growth.

• Convicting people.

• Determining timing.

• Producing transformation.

• Creating consequences.

Every time I take something from God's list and place it on mine, I lose my peace.

Recovery teaches me that my job is to love people, encourage people, support people, and pray for people.

My job is not to save them.

My job is not to fix them.

My job is not to carry them.

My job is not to force their growth.

That job belongs to God.

When I try to do God's job, I lose my peace.

When I trust God to do God's job, I find my peace.

QUESTIONS TO CONSIDER

As I sat with this passage, I realized I could see myself on both sides of it. There were times I tried to manage people, outcomes, and situations because I thought I knew what was best. There were other times when I became emotionally dependent upon people, looking to them for reassurance, security, and peace.

Neither brought freedom.

Both brought suffering.

Perhaps the real question is not whether we have played God.

Perhaps the question is where.

Take a moment and honestly ask yourself:

• Is there someone in my life I am trying to fix?

• Is there someone whose recovery, healing, or growth I have taken responsibility for?

• Do I believe I know what is best for someone else's life?

• Am I constantly worried about another person's choices?

• Have I confused helping with rescuing?

• Do I become upset when people don't take my advice?

• Am I trying to protect someone from consequences that may actually help them grow?

• Is my peace dependent upon someone else's behavior?

• Do I need certain people to act a certain way for me to feel okay?

• Am I seeking from people what only God can provide?

• What am I afraid would happen if I stopped trying to control the outcome?

• What am I afraid would happen if I truly surrendered this person to God?

• Am I trusting God, or am I trying to become God?

• What burden am I carrying today that was never mine to carry?

• What would freedom look like if I finally released it?

Recovery has taught me that surrender is not giving up.

Surrender is giving over.

It is trusting that God can do for the people I love what I cannot.

It is trusting that the same God who rescued me is capable of reaching them too.

Perhaps that is one of the greatest gifts of emotional sobriety:

The ability to love deeply without controlling.

To care deeply without carrying.

To support without rescuing.

To trust without managing.

To love people exactly where they are while allowing God to do the work only God can do.

❤️ Love says:

"I care about you deeply."

💔 Dependence says:

"I need you to be okay so I can be okay."

Step Twelve is teaching us how to love people deeply without making them responsible for our peace.