One of the more interesting writing assignments I’ve ever suggested to a sponsee had nothing to do with Step Four, amends lists, or character defects.

It was simply this: Write about your expectations.

At first glance, that may not seem like a particularly “A.A.” topic. Expectations don’t appear in the Twelve Steps. The Big Book doesn’t devote a chapter to them. There is no inventory column labeled “expectations.”

And yet, the longer I stay sober, the more convinced I become that expectations sit quietly beneath many of the resentments, fears, disappointments, and spiritual disturbances we experience.

Recently, a sponsee was struggling with expectations surrounding a family relationship. Rather than tell them what I thought they should do, I suggested they spend some time writing about it. Not because I had the answers, but because writing often reveals things conversation alone cannot.

What emerged from that experience reminded me why inventory remains such a powerful spiritual tool.

Expectations Are Often Invisible

One of the first discoveries many people make when writing about expectations is that they didn’t realize they had them.

Some expectations are obvious:

• A spouse should be supportive.
• A friend should return a phone call.
• A family member should tell the truth.
• A boss should be fair.

But many expectations operate below the surface. We don’t recognize them until they are violated. The resentment arrives before the awareness. The hurt shows up before the expectation becomes visible. Sometimes the first clue is simply that we’re upset.

The writing assignment often begins with questions like:

• What surprised me most as I wrote?
• What did I learn about myself?
• Were there expectations I didn’t realize I had until I saw them on paper?

The answers can be revealing.

The Difference Between Expectations and Demands

Having expectations isn’t necessarily unhealthy. Healthy relationships often involve communication, agreements, responsibilities, and reasonable expectations. The challenge comes when an expectation quietly becomes a demand. The Big Book touches this idea long before it ever uses the word “acceptance.”

On pages 60–63, we are introduced to the actor trying to run the entire show. “Each person is like an actor who wants to run the whole show.” Most of us can recognize ourselves in that description. We often develop a script for how people should behave, what outcomes should occur, and how life ought to unfold.

Then reality refuses to cooperate.

When that happens, disappointment can quickly evolve into resentment. A useful question becomes:

What expectations do I have of people, situations, and outcomes because I am trying to direct the play?

The Expectation Trail

Over the years, I’ve noticed a pattern that often appears when discussing expectations with sponsees:

Expectation → Disappointment → Resentment → Fear → Self-Will

The process can happen so quickly that I hardly notice it. Something doesn’t happen the way I wanted. I become disappointed. The disappointment hardens into resentment. Underneath the resentment sits fear. Beneath the fear is often an attempt to control something I cannot control.

The inventory process provides a framework for examining that progression.

Questions such as:

1. What did I expect?
2. Who told me I was entitled to that expectation?
3. What happened when reality didn’t cooperate?
4. What fear was underneath it?
5. What was I trying to control?
6. What would acceptance look like here?
7. What would “Thy will be done” look like?

Those questions don’t tell me what to think. They simply invite me to look.

Expectations and Resentments

The Big Book never says that expectations are “premeditated resentments.” That’s a popular phrase in recovery circles, but it isn’t found in our literature. What the Big Book does say is that resentments are the number one offender. When we inventory a resentment on pages 64–67, we often discover an unmet expectation somewhere in the background. What expectation was violated? What did I think should have happened instead?

• Sometimes the answer is reasonable.
• Sometimes the answer is unrealistic.
• Sometimes we discover we were expecting something from someone who was incapable of providing it.

That realization doesn’t excuse harmful behavior. But it can help explain some of our suffering.

Expectations and Fear

Page 68 moves us into fear inventory. This is where expectations often reveal another layer. Many expectations are fear wearing a disguise. Questions worth considering include:

• What am I afraid will happen if this expectation is not met?
• What is being threatened?
• What am I trying to protect?
• What am I trying to control?

Often the expectation isn’t really about the other person at all. It’s about our need for certainty, security, validation, comfort, approval, or control. The expectation becomes our attempt to manage fear.

Expectations and God

The spiritual questions are often the most revealing.

• Where was God in this situation?
• What would trust have looked like?
• What would acceptance have looked like?
• How might my Higher Power view the person who disappointed me?
• What expectations am I placing on God?

That last question can be particularly uncomfortable. Many of us discover we have expectations of God that look suspiciously similar to our expectations of people.

• We want specific outcomes.
• Specific timelines.
• Specific answers.
• Specific resolutions.

And when those don’t materialize, frustration can follow. Pages 84–88 remind us that recovery is built upon dependence upon God rather than dependence upon outcomes. The question gradually shifts from:

“How do I get what I want?” to “How do I align myself with God’s will?”

Acceptance Was the Answer

Perhaps the most direct discussion related to expectations appears in the story “Acceptance Was the Answer.” The author writes:

“My serenity is inversely proportional to my expectations. The higher my expectations of other people are, the lower is my serenity.”

That statement doesn’t mean we abandon standards, boundaries, communication, or responsibility. It simply suggests that our peace of mind becomes fragile when it depends upon other people behaving exactly as we think they should. The story ultimately points toward a different solution:

“Acceptance is the answer to all my problems today.”

• Not approval.
• Not resignation.
• Not passivity.
• Acceptance.

The willingness to see reality as it actually is rather than insisting it become what we wish it were.

One Question That Often Goes Deep

When discussing expectations with a sponsee, there is one question that frequently uncovers the heart of the issue:

What did you believe had to happen in order for you to be okay?

That question often reveals where we’ve placed our peace of mind. In another person. In a circumstance. In an outcome. Or in God.

The follow-up can be even more revealing:

Can you be okay even if that never happens?

Somewhere in the space between those two questions, expectations, acceptance, surrender, and faith tend to meet. And perhaps that is why expectations deserve our attention. Not because expectations are automatically wrong. But because they often reveal where we are seeking security, where we are attempting control, and where we may still be playing God.

As with all inventory work, the goal isn’t self-condemnation. The goal is awareness. Because once something is seen clearly, it can finally be placed before God.

And from there, the spiritual journey continues.

In love & service,