I believed that I could control any story I told. If something happened, I could write about it, own it, resolve it. Simple. You could afford to be interesting, if you could pin everything to the page afterward.

I seem to have mastered a certain amount of control over physical reality.

Taking responsibility gives me a sense of control.

Blaming yourself gives you the comfortable illusion of being in control.

I worked because I could control it.

Since I sometimes won the race between my fancy and nature's reality - the deception was bearable.

That even in the face of the most shocking tragedy of my life, I could exert some control over its impact.

had already come to understand the tidiness of lies, the lesson learned from the stories told by white people seeking to justify my circumstance.

4: Stories let us lie to ourselves. And those lies satisfy our desires.

I now know that one can plan and control certain things, but that it is good to sometimes stand back and allow your story to unfold on its own

Fear, to a great extent, is born of a story we tell ourselves, and so I chose to tell myself a different story from the one women are told. I decided I was safe. I was strong. I was brave. Nothing could vanquish me. Insisting on this story was a form of mind control, but for the most part, it worked.

This time I feel like I have it under control. I have my life together. I am more mature and have more experience. I am not really worried. This time I am more confident and relaxed. I am happier and have more support.

But sometimes the lies we let ourselves believe are for our own good.

In the end I began to understand. There is such a thing as absolute power over narrative. Those who secure this privilege for themselves can arrange stories about others pretty much where, and as, they like. Just as in corrupt, totalitarian regimes, those who exercise power over others can do anything.