What is codependency?
The following is the first of two posts about codependency: what it is, how it works, and how therapy can shift this pattern. First I explore this dynamic from the perspective of the enabler, or the person trying to help. In the next post, I explore the perspective of the person on the receiving end.
What is codependency?
Many people have heard the word “codependency” or have felt trapped in certain relationships. While the term originated in the realm of addiction, this dynamic can appear when anyone gets lost in someone else’s emotional world. So, why would someone sacrifice stability for a rocky relationship? Codependency can be seductive because it’s fueled by an abandonment-and-rescue fantasy, making this pattern all the more interesting when we get up close.
Codependent dynamics are co-created by two people experiencing an unbalanced relationship. It emerges when one person tries to manage another person’s behavior by influencing what happens on the outside, while minimizing what happens on the inside. This side of the fantasy is rooted in control. Being a caretaker exiles genuine feelings and replaces them with a need to keep the peace, while the person on the receiving end is left engaging with an incomplete picture.
Why does this pattern emerge?
One or both people in a codependent dynamic likely grew up in a home where needs weren’t always met. For an enabler, chaos might've encouraged self-sufficiency and they absorbed adult responsibilities at a young age. This pattern makes being the “put-together one” feel familiar and stabilizing. An enabler may abandon themselves to the point of feeling empty, or start acting in quietly destructive ways that resemble ones of the person they’re trying to help. The latter often goes under the radar because enablers are good at concealing their own pain.
Effective therapy illuminates real needs
Sessions with me are a way for clients to practice closeness without feeling so much obligation. For example, if I notice a client trying to take care of me by neatly packaging their own emotions, I reflect this observation and invite them to risk practicing vulnerability in a session. Widening the lens of connection can feel incredibly relieving, like letting a deprived part of the self come up for air.
In healthy relationships, there’s room for both people to let down their guard. By showing up for a learning process, I show clients that it’s acceptable for them to be human, and to not have it all figured out from the onset. Including more of themselves in sessions with me builds intimacy, the kind of closeness they likely want in other relationships.