Why the healing of codependency doesn't end with having less bad relationships

Sorry to tell you but independency is a just a sojourn on the journey

I hear it all the time:

“I’ve pretty much healed my codependency… I don’t talk to my family, I left my partner, I only have one close friend.”

What this tells me is you know how to say no, have boundaries and move away from unaligned or even harmful relationships.

What it doesn’t tell me is how you can now relate to more people, some on an even more intimate level then ever before, and keep yourself intact, whole and well.

What I mean is - you’ve unlearned and “healed” codependency…

Have you learned and evolved into interdependency?

Photo by Matej Klíč on Unsplash

Imagine 2 bodies of water merging at canal.

Codependency is one body of water…

where you feel like you are drowning trying to hold others up.

Where all your energy is about making sure others stay afloat (even though that never really happens).

Where no one sees your struggle.

No one checks in with what you need to stay afloat.

And yet, it doesn’t matter.

You’re whole sense of purpose and selfhood is intwined in a net with someone.

And so you must support. You must focus on them.

You must close your mouth to avoid swallowing the unsafe waters as you prop them up and sink under the waves.

If only you could keep them high enough above water…

then maybe, finally, you could breathe more frequently.

Independency is the canal…

you flow into it, nets disintegrating, the waters of codependency rushing you along like a river, but only one person can fit into the banks at a time.

And so, everyone else falls away.

You really only have space to call forward, call backwards, to one or two people.

You begin to float easier, stay above water, take a look around.

You have time and energy to check in with how you’re doing and reposition yourself in the current.

You breathe. Freely and Deeply.

The water slowly languishes you towards shore.

If someone bumps into you, you push them away and they move along.

You begin to feel whole and remember who you are when no one is watching again.

And while sometimes it’s lonely, or too quiet, or difficult to paddle all on your own

…you still feel a lot more peace and spaciousness.

But the mistake we make in the independency canal is thinking this is healed, finished, fullness…LIVING - when really, it’s just transition.

Many people set up camp on the canal shore out of safety.

And I tell you, sometimes we desperately need to drag ourselves up the grassy banks, build a safe little hut and live out a few years quietly fishing off the ledge.

We learn so much about what our life can be like when it’s just in service to our own needs.

It sure sounds good, right?

But the bigger truth?

There is a whole new landscape of relating waiting at the end of that canal.

Interdependency is the wider, second body of water…

where you issue forth from the safe edges of the narrow independent canal and learn to swim in relationship again.

Without getting pushed under.

Now there are people everywhere:

the friend who has that quirk that annoys you…

the coworker who doesn’t do their work as well as you and constantly asks for help…

the aunt that always asks if you’re married yet or debt free yet or have a better job yet…

the new lover who’s amazing and yet still isn’t perfect all the time…

The cashier at your favorite cafe. The landlord. That hottie on the dating app.

Whoa, you look around and realize the water isn’t water at all - it’s just a life full of all the people, things, ideas, and place you are relating to every second of the day…

including relating to yourself every second of the day.

And then you catch a glance of yourself of the water’s reflective surface and you realize:

You’re a fish.

You’re no longer trying to keep your head above water hoping to love and relate to people.

You’re also no longer pulled up on the dry shore of the canal.

You’re submerged in the aliveness of being a relational being in a relational world.

Part of a wider whole… where to live, to exist, is to relate.

And you move with it, open to it, swim away from one directly into another.

You give to it.

You receive from it.

You breathe it like you once did the air of other’s validation or the oxygen of just yourself.

It depletes you, fills you, sustains you - on repeat.

You’re in flow.

You relate…

Because to exist is to relate.

Sometimes you still find yourself in the current of codependent waters emptying from the canal.

But you navigate within it differently now, knowing you have choices to move you slowly out of it’s grasp again.

Sometimes you even swim up the current, like a salmon seeking it’s birthplace, to spend a little time on the banks of the canal and re-spawn.

Re-Member.

Re-Arrive to yourself again.

Interdependent Relating is flow.

I question anyone who says they’ve healed codependency but have little to no relational movement, intimacy or capacity for a wide range of experiences with other people.

I know for me, I’m in a season of canaling (can we call it that?).

That feels correct for me in this moment.

And…I acknowledge I am here as a sojourn, not a destination.

I acknowledge I am not the interdependent being I have been and will again.

I guess what I’m saying is:

Healing codependency doesn't end with having less bad relationships…it “heals” when we can stay whole as we flow through the wide array of relating that is life.

Where are you in this metaphor, spiritful one?

Let’s share together our journeys.

Jenna

P.S. My books for February are open if you are looking to get support for your current situation or experience around codependency, relating or reconnecting to your needs, spirit and life.

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