You're codependent but luckily codependency isn't bad

Picture it, two astronauts floating deep in space. Don't worry how they got here, just know that they're floating so close they can touch. Do you know how space works? If we're in space and I actually bump you or something bumps into me...we'll float...away...possibly forever. So what do we do?

We build a tether. Some astronauts make the tether out of common household chores. You cook and I'll mow the lawn. Or roles. I'm the disciplinarian and you'll make sure the kids feel loved. I'll be strong and you'll use hypnosis to calm me down...like how Black Widow lullabies the Hulk back into Bruce Banner.

We need the tether of codependency. If I say that I'll meet you at the movie theater at 7 and don't arrive until 8, why do you think that means I don't love you? You're a fully functional adult who can see a movie perfectly fine on your own. If I don’t show up at 7, does that mean I’ve let go of the tether? Or were we using that tether to hold something deeper in place? "Hey now, hey now, it's just bad logistics! I can still love you and know that I don't want to live a life where I'm showing up to places to meet and there's nobody there!" Got it. "Let's keep that thing where we show up to places when we say." Codependency is practical!

But sometimes it’s not. When I turn down my extroversion because your introversion doesn't want too many people coming close too fast, why does that mean you love me? Codependency is awesome...until it's not. It's because a healthy human always keeps developing. Healthy people change. What's stopping a lot of the change is we all subconsciously think we're loved for our roles. We think we're loved for our tethers. But if you think about it, we made the tether to secure the love.

And if I’m honest, sometimes I still engage in codependency because I don’t know how else to feel like I deserve love. If I’m useful, if I adapt, if I help — then maybe I won’t be left behind. It’s not always noble. Sometimes it’s a survival reflex dressed up in affection. But it’s real. It’s me. I’m trying. I’m learning to trust that love might still be there even if I stop earning it.

When someone starts wilting because they don't believe they can change, the tether becomes brittle. Think of the extrovert who stops going out. Think of the caregiver who forgets to care for themselves. It may stubbornly hang on but it's ready to go. Then it becomes "The Crucible of Relationship" (restated: the place where relationships reforge and reforge those who are in them) I'm not gonna turn down my extroversion anymore. It was hurting me to do so. You're going to "feel" abandoned. But I'm still right here. Now I'm more the new me. Why do you think it means I've floated away? I'm right here. Look at me. I don't know me either. I just became. A little older. A little more free. A little more me. I didn't even know this was me before I became but...I can feel it now. This feels more me. If we love each other and I just became...I think that means love is deeper than identity.

This is the mystical path of codependency. It's mystical because every time we shed an illusion about love, we get closer to what’s eternal in us. Together it leads us to the distillation of love. "I thought love was this!" And then "this" was gone. "Do we still love each other?" Yes. "Then love must be a more subtle 'this'!" And when that 'this' is gone we ask again, "Do we still love each other?" A thousand times a million times a billion. It will be painful, but most painful the first time. The pain will be reversely correlated to how much we are mistaking the tether for the love.

Please don't erase all your codependencies to try to meet God quicker. Just the brittle ones. The supple ones are merely love in action. You can feel it, can’t you? When I wash the dishes after you’ve cooked with a smile on my face. I love you.

#Deeptakes