EB Psychotherapy Blog

In just a few short years, artificial intelligence has gone from a distant curiosity to a daily companion. We ask AI to help us brainstorm ideas, edit our emails, or even talk through personal dilemmas. For many, AI offers a sense of efficiency, understanding, or even comfort. But as people spend more time interacting with AI, it’s worth asking an important psychological question: how might these interactions be shaping the way we relate to other humans—especially our friends and family?

One of the most powerful psychological concepts influencing our lives often works quietly in the background: locus of control. It refers to the degree to which people believe they have control over the events that affect them. While it may sound like an abstract idea, locus of control influences our motivation, our resilience, our relationships, and even our mental health outcomes.

In this article, we’ll explore what locus of control means, why it matters, and how individuals can develop a healthier sense of agency without tipping into blame or helplessness.

Perfectionism is often praised in our culture. Many people proudly claim to be perfectionists, equating the trait with high standards, ambition, and achievement. In workplaces, schools, and even families, the word can sound like a compliment. Yet beneath the surface, perfectionism often carries hidden emotional costs that leave individuals feeling anxious, inadequate, and chronically dissatisfied. At its core, perfectionism is less about striving for excellence and more about seeking control—over outcomes, over how others perceive us, and sometimes even over our own self-worth.

In today’s world, intercultural families are increasingly common. Whether through marriage, adoption, or partnership, many families are made up of people from different cultural, ethnic, or religious backgrounds. This blending of traditions, values, and life experiences can create a home filled with richness, diversity, and deep meaning. At the same time, it can also present unique challenges that require patience, openness, and intentional communication.

Human beings are natural storytellers. We make sense of our lives by connecting experiences into narratives, drawing patterns, and trying to predict what comes next. This ability has helped us survive and adapt—but it can also trap us. When it comes to mental health, many people carry a painful belief: that the difficulties, mistakes, or traumas of the past will inevitably dictate the future.

Change is rarely easy, especially when it involves someone we’ve built trust with—like a therapist. Therapy is an intimate and meaningful process; over time, you may share your deepest fears, greatest hopes, and most vulnerable truths. Naturally, the idea of switching therapists can stir up uncertainty: Will this new person understand me? Do I have the energy to start over?

In today’s world, opinions fly faster than facts, and social comparison is only a scroll away. It’s easy—and incredibly human—to feel offended, judged, or self-conscious about how others perceive us. But constantly interpreting people’s behavior as personal commentary on our worth is emotionally exhausting. For many, learning how not to take things personally or care too deeply about what others think can be one of the most liberating mental health shifts they make.

Work is a central part of many people’s lives—it gives us structure, identity, income, and a sense of purpose. But it can also be a major source of stress. Deadlines, difficult colleagues, unrealistic expectations, micro-aggressions and inequality, job insecurity, and the never-ending stream of emails and notifications can take a toll on both our minds and bodies.

In life, it's easy to fall into the trap of trying to control what’s around us—especially other people. We may believe that if we say just the right words, make the right decisions, or anticipate others’ needs perfectly, we can shape how they behave, how they feel about us, or what outcomes occur in our relationships, workplaces, and communities. But this mindset, while understandable, is often a source of deep emotional pain, anxiety, and disconnection.

We all carry emotional wounds—moments of trauma, grief, loss, heartbreak, or hardship that leave lasting marks. But what if those same painful experiences could be transformed into tools for healing, not just for ourselves but for others too? For many, sharing and using their own challenging experiences to support others becomes a meaningful and therapeutic path to recovery. This concept, often referred to as “wounded healing,” is a powerful way to turn personal adversity into compassionate action.