Tag: codependent

  • I Was Addicted to Helping People – Here’s Why It Made Me Miserable

    I Was Addicted to Helping People – Here’s Why It Made Me Miserable

    “As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.” ~Maya Angelou

    Growing up in Africa, I was told that the virtue and worth of a woman lies in her ability to take care of everyone around her; that a woman was considered good or worthy when everyone around her was happy and pleased with her. I took this advice to heart, especially since I watched my mother meet this standard to a T. Putting everyone else, including strangers, above herself.

    Most of the Things We Learn as Kids Shape Us

    As a kid, I was taught how to cook, clean, and care for others. As a teenager, I got a lot of practice caring for my younger siblings; at first, it was great, being a caregiver, being the one who everyone went to when they needed something. I loved being needed, and I relished in the label I was given as dependable.

    Family, friends, and even strangers knew that I was the go-to girl for whatever they wanted. If I couldn’t help them with whatever they needed, I would find someone who could. I was determined to never leave anyone high and dry. I loved being needed, and if anyone needed me, I believed that I was their last resort.

    The Joy of Giving

    You see, one thing about giving is that it feels good… until it doesn’t. The moment you get to a place where giving doesn’t feel good anymore, it means that you need to turn the giving around and start giving to yourself. But how does someone who is addicted to being needed realize this?

    When helping people started feeling more exhausting than exhilarating, my first instinct was to give more because I believed that the more I gave to others, the more I would receive from them. But that was not the case. The more I gave, the less I received, and this prompted me to label most of my friends as bad friends because I wasn’t getting as much as I was giving to them.

    When I became isolated from cutting friends off because they were “bad” to me, I realized the problem wasn’t that I was not getting as much as I was giving; the problem was that I was giving to everyone but myself. I had put myself in the back burner and abandoned myself. How can I abandon myself and not expect others to abandon me?

    The Guilt That Comes with Giving to Yourself

    Realizing my deep-seated issues was easy, but addressing them was a whole other thing. Because I was conditioned to believe that my worth was in pleasing others, I always said yes to everyone who needed my help; saying no was extremely difficult.

    This was because I was suppressed by intense guilt and ended up caving in to finding help for the person at my own expense. Everything changed for me when a former classmate said to me out of the blue: “You are nobody’s last resort.”

    You are nobody’s last resort, no matter how bad it is. If you cannot help someone with their problem, another person will. And more importantly, it’s not your responsibility to ensure they get the help they need—it’s theirs.

    This was a turning point in my life because now I knew that telling someone no because I needed the time to invest in my own needs did not mean that they were never going to get help.

    The guilt was still there, but little by little, I persevered in choosing myself over and over again. I started with little things, like saying no to helping a friend walk their dog to stay at home, to take a long bath and read a book (I enjoy reading). And over time I was able to get better at saying no to larger requests that would have been draining and would have negatively impacted my mental health.

    Give to Yourself and You Won’t Expect Too Much From Others

    Slowly but surely, I learned that my worth is determined by me and me alone—by how much love and care I direct toward myself. Guilt still visits me sometimes, but it is not as intense as it used to be.

    I know now it is better to feel guilty for taking care of yourself than to expect others to anticipate your needs and take care of you. News flash: if you don’t take care of yourself from the inside out, no one will.

    Don’t get me wrong, I still take care of my loved ones and help others as well as I can, but I now do it from a complete place, a place of wholeness, knowing that I will be fine whether they invest in me or not.

    I don’t expect much from people, and I don’t get disappointed much because I have learned to prioritize myself. Frankly speaking, I have noticed that the people around me enjoy me more now that I am not a self-righteous person who resents her giving and selflessness.

    “I give and give and give, and what do I get? Nothing.” If you have heard yourself say or think these words, then you are expecting people to make you happy just because you are bending over backwards to make them happy. If you keep bending backwards to make others happy, one day you will break your back. A broken back is very painful to bear, take note.

    Life’s a Journey, Not a Race

    This is not an overnight process; it will take time and patience. I have learned that part of taking care of myself is being nice to myself, whether I’m making progress or not. I’m done talking down to myself. Everything I wouldn’t do or say to another person, I’ve vowed never to do or say to myself.

    There is no glory in stomping all over yourself to please the world, there is no glory in self-deprecation and self-hate. It is not humble to call yourself terrible names or to live in suffering because you don’t want to hurt some else’s feeling or because you want to be called a nice/polite person.

    Our feelings and needs matter as much as anyone else’s, but we can only honor them if we recognize this and prioritize them.

  • How I’m Healing from the Pain of Growing up in a Dysfunctional Family

    How I’m Healing from the Pain of Growing up in a Dysfunctional Family

    “Don’t try to understand everything, because sometimes it’s not meant to be understood, but accepted.” ~Unknown

    As a child, I never had the opportunity to develop a sense of self. I had a father who was a drug addict. A mother who was abused by my father. And later, we had my mom’s possessive and controlling boyfriend. It was tough finding a consistent role model in the mix.

    I was one of four kids and we grew up in a trailer, sharing one bunk bed among us all. As children, we often would brutally fight with each other. We all wanted our own space and sense of self, but there wasn’t enough to go around.

    With our mom working so much, her boyfriend would watch us. He seemed to enjoy punishing us. I remember feeling so afraid. I didn’t want to do anything wrong. I wanted to have his love because it felt like the only way to be safe. I never felt good enough, not to my mom, dad, or the boyfriend.

    Starting in my teen years, codependency started really kicking in, and I wanted my mom for everything. I unknowingly was part of her triangulation between me and my sister. We both craved her love and wanted to have her favoritism.

    As a wild child, my sister was stuck with my mom’s negative self-projections, I received the positive. As the years progressed, these roles flipped, and I suffered a sense of rejection and confusion as to what I had done wrong.

    Life was hard and I couldn’t live with the fear and shame, so I learned to unplug from my feelings. At the same time, these unprocessed feelings would cause outbursts of anger. I started feeling entitled to anger. It felt like life had kicked me so hard as a child, why wasn’t it getting easier? Why was it getting worse?

    My learned dysfunction kept me yearning for connection but fearing it and pushing people away at the same time. I wasn’t capable of trusting others in a healthy way. With each loss, I took on more shame and perceived failure.

    As I struggled through life, I was oblivious to the amounts of shame my family dynamic had me carrying. My mother’s triangulation and manipulation created an environment where she was justified in lashing out with no accountability. Everyone else was to blame for her poor reactions to situations.

    As my mom and sister became a team, I became the problem who needed to learn how to accept and love them unconditionally. There was nothing wrong with them treating other people poorly. It was okay for them to deceitfully hide family secrets (e.g.: Mom drove home drunk from the bar and doesn’t remember getting home), because I wouldn’t agree, so they were justified.

    I felt like I was on an island, broken and unable to figure out what was wrong and how to fix myself because the “rules” of justification changed so swiftly, and always in their favor.

    Having no sense of self and being completely enmeshed with my mom and sister, I felt beyond broken each time I was accused of not being able to love unconditionally. I was worthless and a disgusting human being who was incapable of even a basic emotion that everyone else had.

    It took a lot for me to see that love for my mom was making me feel close only when she was going through tough times, making me part of her someday club (our motto: “someday” will never happen for us).

    My sister learned to use her money to express her love. She would take me to dinner and give me her quality hand-me-down clothes. While I was grateful, it also became justification for her to do crummy things toward me, usually when she had been drinking.

    While sober, if she had a problem, she’d choose to “forgive.” The only problem is that she hadn’t really forgiven me because one night while everyone was having fun, I might get tired or I didn’t think a joke was funny or I looked at her the wrong way, and it would all come flooding out—every stored feeling she had been holding back for days or weeks.

    If either my mom or sister hurt me, the expectation was that I should just get over it. There was no need for them to take accountability because “we are human” and “I am happy with who I am.”

    I wanted to be loved and accepted but couldn’t ever really find my place within my family because the dynamics were so volatile. I was suffocating in the conflicting feelings. I felt angry but ashamed. I was unhappy and felt worthless.

    When I hit bottom and I couldn’t see one thing in my life that gave me worth, I knew that I needed to make changes. I reached out and got help from a therapist and joined a local support group.

    As I am separating from the dysfunctional patterns, the things that have helped me are:

    1. Ask for help.

    Dysfunctional family dynamics often create shame around the idea of talking to others. It’s seen as exposing family secrets and going against the unit. Nobody should suffer due to things out of their control. Reaching out helps you find the compassionate outlet you deserve and need.

    I have been in therapy for about two years now. It has been the only time of my life where I have been able to experience consistent, reliable, and healthy direction. It has supported me in learning how to have self-compassion and make healthy, but tough choices.

    I didn’t want to accept the reality that my mom and sister will likely never truly see me for me. My role as a scapegoat is brutally necessary for the emotional “economics” that occur within my family.

    Therapy helped support me in my choice to find myself outside of my family of origin. There was much pain in going from seeing my family every weekend to now living a life outside of them. It required radical acceptance and the knowledge that I am unable to change anyone but myself.

    I was lucky to have a kind, compassionate, reliable therapist to guide me as I dealt with each of the emotions that came up during this time.

    2. Accept others as they are.

    As a scapegoat in a dysfunctional family unit, I have learned to accept my situation for what it is. I have to set my expectations for what others are capable of giving.

    We have no control over others or their view of the world. All we can do is accept a situation for what it is and assess if it is healthy for us. Once I accepted that my mom and sister do not really see the family dynamic as dysfunctional, I was able to free myself of the anger and need for control. They are blind to the ways they protect themselves emotionally and unwilling to have an open mind about it.

    There is sadness, but I see that the relationship dynamic causes so much pain for me, and I cannot fix this on my own. While I am compassionate toward the pain they must be carrying, I see that I cannot continue a relationship that is built on dysfunctional habits.

    3. Know your worth.

    As an enmeshed individual, my worth was defined by external sources. I wanted my mom, sister, brothers, friends, coworkers, and acquaintances to validate me as a good, worthy person. I desperately needed to feel like others liked me enough to feel I had worth.

    I now know that we all have worth, and it’s our individual responsibility to maintain this worth from within.

    I have a tough inner critic, so having a consistent mindfulness practice has helped me establish my worth. It is hard to find worth when you are caught up in your own head, believing the negative thoughts going through it. Mindfulness helps me turn away from these thoughts and label them as just that, thoughts.

    The more we tune out our negative self-talk, the more we can acknowledge our mistakes and learn from them without sinking into a low and getting down on ourselves. With this brings the awareness that our mistakes do not diminish our worth. Our worth is inherent. A mistake is just a mistake.

    4. Learn what healthy love looks like.

    Our family of origin doesn’t always teach us what healthy love looks and feels like.

    In dysfunctional families, each person loves based on their limited capacity to process their own emotions. When someone has to keep reminding you that you are unconditionally loved, ask yourself, how do I feel right now? For me, I felt hated and restricted to being what was easy for my mom and sister.

    Love should connect you with your inner joy. We all feel down at times and cannot rely on others to make us feel good about ourselves at all times. But I do feel that when someone loves you unconditionally, you shouldn’t feel lost. The joy of this love should be consistently present and help carry you through the tough times (e.g.: disagreements, hurt feelings, etc.).

    When it comes to my mom and sister unconditionally loving me, I have had to accept that they love me the best and only way they know how while hiding from their shame. If they lash out, they are not able to carry the shame and embarrassment of their own actions. They cannot validate my feelings or experience in any way. They need me to carry this responsibility for them. This is not unconditional love.

    As you move through the necessary steps to separate from learned family dysfunction, please remember that you didn’t learn these things by yourself and you will not unlearn them by yourself, nor should you.

    Oftentimes things like depression or anxiety are a hurdle. Building a community is scary but necessary. This can be reaching out to a therapist or searching for support groups in your local community.

    For years I struggled thinking that I could fix what was wrong with me on my own. It wasn’t until I reached out and got help that my mind was able to open up, process traumas, and make lasting changes.

  • How to Tell If Your Relationship is Codependent (and What to Do About It)

    How to Tell If Your Relationship is Codependent (and What to Do About It)

    “Love rests on two pillars: surrender and autonomy. Our need for togetherness exists alongside our need for separateness.” ~ Esther Perel

    Healthy relationships require a delicate balance of intimacy and autonomy, giving and receiving, self and other.

    As we struggle to walk this delicate tightrope, we might feel less like graceful acrobats and more like pendulums swaying recklessly from side to side. As I reflect on my own romantic journey, I notice a trend: I got very close to past partners, losing myself in them entirely, and then emerged from the codependent haze terrified and self-abandoned.

    “Never again!” I would vow. “I’d rather be alone than lose myself in a relationship!” So I’d spend a few months embracing utter independence —dating sporadically, not getting attached, heart under lock and key—until my loneliness sent me into the arms of another partner.

    So wherein lies the balance? The answer can be found in the idea of interdependence: relationships that rely on mutual intimacy and mutual separateness.

    Licensed professional counselor Jodi Clark explains that “an interdependent person recognizes the value of vulnerability, being able to turn to their partner in meaningful ways to create emotional intimacy. They also value a sense of self that allows them and their partner to be themselves without any need to compromise who they are or their values system” (emphasis added).

    In contrast, codependent relationships exist between partners who rely predominantly on each other for their sense of value or purpose. People in codependent relationships tend to neglect themselves while over-prioritizing their partners’ values, needs, and dreams. The result? A painful and tangible loss of self.

    So how can we walk the tightrope of togetherness and separateness gracefully? After all, attachment to others isn’t wrong—it’s natural and necessary. But how much is too much? How can you tell if your relationship is codependent or interdependent?

    Here are 7 key points that differentiate codependent from interdependent relationships:

    1. Codependent relationships: I use my partner’s love to fill a void of self-love.
    Interdependent relationships: I love myself and my partner at the same time.

    In codependent relationships, it may feel like there’s not enough love to go around —because there’s not. A codependent partner may make up for her own lack of self-love by attempting to fill her empty well strictly with her partner’s love. She may be hyper-vigilant, scouring for scraps of love the way a vulture might.

    That’s how I felt before I entered codependency recovery. My love for myself was so scarce that I felt like a starving castaway, desperate for anything that resembled sustenance. My desperation made me more likely to accept meager substitutes for love. I craved attention—even if it was of the negative variety.

    In interdependent relationships, we replace that scarcity mentality with an abundance mentality. There is plenty of love to go around. We have a wellspring of self-love and—icing on the cake!—love from a partner who cares for us deeply.

    2. Codependent relationships: I under-communicate my own needs in order to prioritize my partner’s needs.
    Interdependent relationships: I’m free to express my needs and I am receptive to my partner’s needs.

    Healthy interdependent relationships do not require partners to shrink, minimize, or subjugate themselves. They allow for free expression by both parties.

    This isn’t to say that everyone’s needs are met 100% of the time. However, both partners understand that they are complex, unique beings with a diverse array of needs and preferences. A difference in opinion doesn’t have to threaten the safety of the relationship.

    As the saying goes: “Any relationship you have that could be ruined by having a conversation about your feelings, standards, or expectations wasn’t really stable enough to begin with.”

    3. Codependent relationships: I use time with my partner to avoid being alone.
    Interdependent relationships: I enjoy alone time and time spent with my partner.

    If we can’t find peace or pleasure in our own company, we’ll place unrealistic burdens on our relationships to be our sole providers of happiness.

    Years ago, the stretch of hours that separated the end of the workday from seeing my partner stretched on like an infinite desert. I felt terribly anxious in my own company and used any numbing agent I could to pass the time: shots of vodka at 4pm, binge-watching Girls, whatever. When I could see my partner, my night finally began in earnest. My then-partner could sense this, of course, and felt justifiably burdened by my absence of a private life.

    Enjoying our own company allows us to enjoy time with our partners without using that time to escape from our own anxiety. It also allows our partners to feel valued for who they are⁠—not for the negative emotions they prevent us from feeling.

    4. Codependent relationships: My relationship is responsible for making me happy.
    Interdependent relationships: I am responsible for my own happiness and love co-creating joy with my partner.

    Can romantic partnerships make us happy? Absolutely.

    Will we be happy if our romantic relationships are our sole source of happiness? Absolutely not.

    Where our happiness or mental health is concerned, we can’t put all of our eggs in one basket. The risks are too great.

    I still remember the days when having a disagreement with my then-partner felt like the end of the world. When we were arguing, everything was wrong. The single spout that distributed my happiness was broken! This was not the recipe for a grounded or balanced life.

    My tunnel-vision meant that I was more likely to be reactive in arguments, less likely to give my partner space when he needed it, and more likely to respond to small differences of opinion as if they were catastrophes —which leads me to Point 5…

    5. Codependent relationships: I cannot tolerate intense emotions. In order to calm down, I need my partner to soothe me.
    Interdependent relationships: I can soothe myself when I’m distressed, and I ask for help when I’d like support.

    Learning how to self-soothe when distressed provides us a powerful foundation of resilience, inner strength, and self-trust.

    When I’m distressed, I follow a personal blueprint. Depending on my mood, I might rest in bed and wait for my nervous system to calm, go for a run to release my energy, or journal. I also have a shortlist of folks I feel comfortable calling that includes a few dear friends, my sponsor, my family, and my partner. My partner is one ofmy sources of self-soothing; he is not the only source.

    If my partner doesn’t have the capacity to soothe me in a given moment, he knows that I can meet that need in other ways. He doesn’t feel like he must neglect his own needs in order to protect my mental or emotional health. When one partner must neglect their own well-being to soothe another, resentment inevitably follows.

    6. Codependent relationships: I prioritize my partner or my partnership at the expense of my own goals and dreams.
    Interdependent relationships: I feel free to pursue my own goals and dreams and can build a life with my partner.

    All relationships require some degree of compromise. However, we can only compromise so much before our sense of self begins to erode. If you find yourself sacrificing the bulk of your dreams and desires to benefit your partnership, you’re probably not truly meeting in the middle.

    Sacrificing our goals can have unintended and disastrous consequences on the very relationships we sacrificed them for. Separated from our dreams, we are divorced from a core component of who we are. We lose the lifeblood, the motivation, and the energy that propel us forward in the world. The unique skills and gifts we possess rust and decay from underuse. Like clockwork, our sense of purpose, value, and self-worth decline.

    If your partnership is totally at odds with your own vision for the future, think carefully. Your partner can simultaneously be a fantastic person and completely misaligned with your goals.

    7. Codependent relationships: I can’t imagine leaving my partner under any circumstances.
    Interdependent relationships: I am deeply invested in my partnership and I know that I can walk away if it becomes toxic or unhealthy.

    Both partners must be willing to leave a relationship should it ever become toxic or unhealthy.

    “But wait,” you might be thinking, “doesn’t that mean that they’re just not really committed to each other?”

    Not at all. Being able to persevere through a period of disagreement, tension, or stagnancy is essentially a prerequisite for a long-term relationship. Subjecting yourself to an unhealthy or toxic dynamic, though, is another thing entirely. Unwillingness to leave a toxic partnership (when otherwise able to do so financially and logistically) demonstrates a profound lack of self-love and self-advocacy.

    Even when deeply unhappy in their partnerships, many codependent folks feel incapable of leaving —or of setting effective boundaries with their partners. This paralysis is often driven by beliefs such as “Life would be meaningless without them,” “I could never find anyone else,” “I’ll be alone forever,” or “It’s better to be unhappily married than single and alone.”

    It’s easy to see how a lack of self-love contributes to this scarcity mentality.

    If you recognize yourself in the above depictions of codependent relationships, don’t be discouraged. I have been in deeply codependent partnerships before and now find myself agreeing with every interdependent statement on this list. With effort and practice, it is possible to outgrow our codependent conditioning and find healthy, interdependent relationships.

    At its core, codependency is a dysfunctional relationship with the self that stems from a lack of self-worth—and is generally the result of being raised in a neglectful or dysfunctional family. When we rediscover our own sense of purpose, value, and self-compassion, we no longer need to rely on our partners for our sole sense of self-worth. We can engage in our relationships in balanced, grounded, other-loving, and self-loving ways.

  • How to Practice Self-Compassion: 5 Tips to Stop Being Down on Yourself

    How to Practice Self-Compassion: 5 Tips to Stop Being Down on Yourself

    Inner Light

    “If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete.” ~Jack Kornfield

    I never wanted to see a therapist. I imagined settling onto the storied couch and seeing dollar signs appear in concerned eyes as I listed the family history of mental illness, addiction, and abuse. I feared I’d be labeled before I’d ever been heard.

    But after experiencing the emotional shock of witnessing a murder, I knew I needed a space to grieve. So I gathered all of my courage and laid myself bare to a very nice woman who had Don Miguel Ruiz’s The Four Agreements on her coffee table. I trusted her.

    Within moments of meeting me, that very nice woman shattered the world I knew. The characteristics I viewed as strengths—my drive, my nurturing nature, my strength under pressure—were neatly organized into a single neurosis: codependency.

    As I leafed through the pages of the book she recommended to me, I saw myself in the narrative of the co-dependent: giving until I had given all that I had; investing myself deeply in the mental health of those around me; constantly trying to make others happy.

    But rather than find comfort in the words on the pages, I found myself sinking into despair. All of those years I thought that I had escaped my past unscathed, and here I was, stuck with a label: codependent.

    Week after week, I dove deeper into this idea that perhaps I needed to confront my past; perhaps I did need to grieve. I cried. I raged. I stopped eating. I ate too much. My health declined.

    My therapist told me I needed to relax. So I woke up early every day, determined to be the most relaxed person I could be: always striving to relax harder, better. And yet I didn’t feel better; I felt worse.

    By accepting a label given to me by a near stranger, I had unconsciously shifted my focus from living in the present to fixing something that I perceived to be wrong with my past.  And it had overwhelmed me.

    My inner critic gained a strength previously unknown to me. Every day, I thought about how I might make myself better. I cursed at myself for being unable to let go, and then I cursed at myself for cursing at myself.

    I was exhausted.

    As I slowly came to realize that I could not keep up with that inner critic, something changed. I accepted that I couldn’t be perfect. I accepted that I was human.

    Only by finding my edge—that place where I couldn’t take any more—was I able to finally let go. When my inner critic started to rear its head, I learned to stick up for myself as I might defend a friend: “I am only human. I am not perfect, nor do I need to be.”

    With that simple acknowledgement—I am not perfect, nor do I need to be—I was finally able to free myself not only from the pain of past experiences, but also from the pain that came from reducing myself to a label.

    By learning to practice self-compassion, I became comfortable with the person I am today, free of expectations.

    The journey to self-compassion was a difficult one for me, but I believe it to be a journey that I will only need to take once. Today, I have the tools I need to practice self-compassion without having to first battle my inner critic, and these are tools that anyone can use:

    1. Acknowledge challenges and let them go.

    I always remember, “I am not perfect, nor do I need to be.” When entirely normal emotions come up—frustration, stress, anger, fear—I remind myself that no one expects me to be perfect. I allow myself to feel whatever it is I need to feel and to then let it go.

    2. Remember that you are exactly where you need to be.

    When we start our journey inward, we may learn things about ourselves that shock us. I try to remember that every challenge has its purpose and I am exactly where I need to be today.

    3. Practice self-growth rather than self-improvement.

    Improvement implies that there is something to fix. Rather than attempting to “fix” what’s “wrong,” I focus instead on strengthening what’s right. Work toward personal growth rather than some idea of perfection.

    4. Speak to yourself as you would speak to a friend.

    As I faced challenges in my personal growth, I learned to be kind to myself. If a friend was struggling with an uncomfortable emotion, I would never criticize that friend with language like, “Why can’t you just learn to be happy all of the time?!” So I don’t speak to myself that way either.

    5. Give yourself a hug.

    Go on. Right now. Just do it. That felt good, didn’t it?

    Self-compassion is an inside job. I’ve learned that if I am gentle with myself, the world becomes a gentler place. I invite you to experience it too.

    Photo by Joseph Vasquez

  • Ending Codependency in Relationships: Find Who You Really Are

    Ending Codependency in Relationships: Find Who You Really Are

    “Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.”  ~Oscar Wilde

    I remember clearly and will never forget the golden moment when I revealed my truth. Out through the locked up, suppressed little voice hidden deep down within, I allowed myself to say, “I always feel as if I need to give people what they want.”

    It was almost as if lighting struck and the clouds parted at the same time. I sat there comfortably in the chair of my therapist’s office, and with a deep breath I knew that “it” was over. I did not know what “it” was, or the amount of work and change that would follow, but I knew that I was ready and willing.

    I grew up codependent. From the influence of an alcoholic, narcissistic father to the string of narcissistic relationships formed afterward, my identity evolved through who I was to others and what I had given to them.

    A relationship with a narcissist defines your existence as not your own, but as a part of theirs. Others saw me as shy and nice, but I didn’t realize that I was lost and without balance.

    I wanted others to be their authentic selves, truthful and free, but I could not do that for myself, so I continued giving up and giving in. Not all was bad—life is beautiful in each form—but I knew I would need to learn something different, as I always struggled with fear and anxiety.

    So I have learned something different. It’s taken a long time, but things have been getting better. If you’ve also realized that you are codependent, these ideas may help you dig down and reveal your true, authentic, beautiful self.

    Create a relationship with yourself.

    Remember the scene in Runaway Bride where Julia Robert’s character decides she will choose what kind of eggs she likes instead of choosing the kinds that her former partners liked? This simple act is where it can all begin. I make an effort to just ask myself honestly, “How are you doing?”

    Take time to focus on your preferences, likes, dislikes, and so on, learning more about the things that make you happy and unhappy, and healthy ways to deal and cope with the latter. It’s important to always stay centered. (more…)