On the road to self-love
Boundaries, co-dependence, and treasuring one's Self
Books about boundaries are cropping up in the Little Free Libraries all over my neighborhood, or maybe they’ve always been there, and I’m only noticing now. Either way, it feels meaningful and serendipitous, and I pluck each one faithfully from its box to tuck under my arm and cart home because, you see, that’s what I’m working on: Boundaries.
Boundaries, and co-dependence, and how to treasure oneself, and how to call out, bold and strong, with one’s voice, and how it is our divine duty to do so. What a concept. Rather than obnoxiously taking up space, cluttering people’s inboxes, tooting one’s horn, or jostling for space among all of the other writers, artists, voices, people who are afraid, or hungry, or seeking, or wondering, or just desperate to make their mark, or any mark, really.
You see, I’m one of those people who have preferred to shrink back and let others take up space. Yesterday, I read an incredible essay on Substack by Farrah Storr. Storr’s premise was that it’s not just okay to make your voice heard, it’s imperative. Even when you’re not sure what you’re saying. Even when your opinion is slip-sliding all over the place. That’s okay, this writer maintained. Just speak. It’s not only your divine right. It’s your duty.
What a take. That made my head spin. It also made my heart lighten. It filled me with hope, and even brought a tear to my eye. It’s the kind of dictate I need to hold onto with both arms, for dear life.
The most recent boundary book I picked up, with a pretty green cover, keeps saying I need to “treasure” myself. Wow. That is also head-spinning language for me. Not “accept” myself, mind you. But, treasure myself. That sounds like a lot more fun than “accepting” myself. We “accept” defeat. We don’t normally treasure it.
I now have three books on boundaries that I’ve picked up and Melody Battle’s on co-dependence that my son gave me. I have homework from my therapist to do by Friday. And I have the suggestion, also from my therapist, to begin attending CODA meetings. That’s Co-Dependents Anonymous to you uninitiated.
I’m a little bit embarrassed, or maybe more than a little, that I’m still “doing the work,” or trying to anyway. One of my biggest problems in my opinion is commitment. I commit feebly. I’m not sure what’s in it for me to do it that way. A feeble commitment is no commitment at all, as we all know.
“I’m going to try to…” is a terrible way to start a sentence, let alone turn around a life.
“I will” or even better “I am” is what’s required.
I am learning about boundaries and co-dependence. I can say that. It’s true. And you know what? Yes, I may be late in resolving some of the garbage that’s held me back over the years decades, but better late than never, I say.
And I want to treasure myself. Don’t we all? What would that feel like? Apparently, it’s connected to boundaries. As is co-dependence.
But, what is co-dependence? I find it a fuzzy concept to grip.
ChatGPT says codependence is “a behavioral condition where one person enables another's addiction, poor mental health, immaturity, irresponsibility, or underachievement. The codependent person typically sacrifices their own needs to care for or control the other person.”
A primary symptom of the condition is poor or zero boundaries, evidenced by difficulty saying no; prioritizing others’ needs over one’s own (to detrimental effect); taking responsibility for others’ actions and emotions; and feeling responsible for solving other people’s problems.
Yep. That’s me in a nutshell.
I asked my therapist recently if it’s normal that when someone trips on the crosswalk while walking toward me, I immediately assume it’s my fault. He assured me that no, that’s not something everyone, or most folks, do.
I have to stop this nonsense. I should have done it for myself, so that I could have a better life. But, true to the classic co-dependent nature, I’m only beginning to seriously tackle it because I’ve apparently passed the condition to my children because, well, that’s what they witnessed. And so now I have to get better for them. As well as for me.
It’s time to take it seriously.
Also, I finally have a therapist, and he’s really good. He’s smart, well-educated, deeply experienced, and I like him. And I don’t want to fail therapy. I don’t want him to ditch me, and in this brave new world, that feels like a real possibility. I say that because my daughter asked me years ago to get a therapist, and I tell you, I tried, but I was stymied at every turn. During the pandemic, it seemed virtually impossible to get, find, or keep a therapist. Maybe some of you know what I mean.
And after the pandemic, the problem just seemed to harden. Suddenly, it was only possible to get a therapist online, remotely, through some kind of agency. For months if not a couple of years, I kept pestering Kaiser for help. They’d send me “platforms” with listings of therapists who all seemed to be about 20 years old. It just deflated me.
Finally, when I was in Merida, Mexico last winter, I got another message from one of the platforms. “You still haven’t chosen a therapist” the app chirped. Desultorily, (and desperately, for I was having a particularly bad day, drifting about the town crying about my estranged daughter), I clicked the link, expecting to scroll endlessly down columns of therapists who looked younger than my children.
Lo and behold, Leo popped up, and he was at least my age. I liked his face. I liked the fact that he had a Latin name. I liked him. I clicked, and miraculously, garnered an appointment. And then, I had a therapist, after trying to acquire one for three years.
So, you see, I don’t want to lose Leo. Early on, he said to me, “You’re going to have to work hard.”
Work hard. Work hard on myself.
It’s exciting. It made me feel hopeful.
At the same time, I felt discouraged.
Jesus, I thought. When will it end? Will I ever not need a therapist? I was in therapy for years. I first sought a therapist while in high school. That guy turned me away because I couldn’t pay. He said, “You're doing fine! You’re doing great!” That’s because I was articulate and I guess I presented well, and hell I had no money. Obviously, I was not going to be his client.
But, I did need help.
One look at the state of my siblings’ lives, and it becomes alarmingly clear that something, or more than one thing, was not right in our childhood home.
Rather than going into that sordid story here (suffice to say: addiction), I’ll just say, yes, I have a therapist now. I like him. I want to keep him. That is one reason I am committing to doing the work.
The other is, it’s clear my kids are struggling with their own co-dependent tendencies and habits that they likely learned from me. I’m so proud of them. How is it that my son, at 24, gave ME a book about co-dependence, with the sweetest inscription inside giving me permission to put myself first?
How is it that my daughter, in my kitchen recently, said, “Mom, I’m trying to individuate.” This is a good sign. My daughter definitely knows how to establish boundaries. She’s carved them so hard, it’s been painful for me. She certainly got my attention.
So. Books on boundaries keep appearing in my life. I have yet to attend my first CODA meeting, but I’ve promised Leo I will. I have yet to attempt the homework that will require diving into the wreck as Adrienne Rich puts it. But, I will. And I have yet to treasure myself.
But I want to. In fact, that word, “treasure,” touched me last night when I read it. What does it mean to treasure oneself?
ChatGPT says it’s recognizing and valuing your own worth, taking care of your mental, emotional, and physical well-being, and setting boundaries to protect your needs and desires. It involves a deep respect and appreciation for who you are as an individual. Here are some key aspects of treasuring oneself:
Self-Respect: Acknowledging your inherent worth and treating yourself with the same kindness and consideration you would offer to someone you love and respect.
Self-Care: Engaging in activities and practices that nurture your body, mind, and spirit. This includes maintaining a healthy lifestyle, getting enough rest, engaging in hobbies, and taking time for relaxation and fun.
Self-Compassion: Being gentle and forgiving with yourself, especially during times of failure or difficulty. It means understanding that everyone makes mistakes and that it's okay to be imperfect.
Setting Boundaries: Protecting your time, energy, and resources by setting limits with others. This includes saying no when necessary and not overextending yourself to please others at your own expense.
Pursuing Personal Growth: Investing in your own development by setting goals, learning new skills, and seeking opportunities for growth and self-improvement.
Healthy Relationships: Surrounding yourself with people who respect, support, and uplift you. This includes letting go of toxic relationships that drain your energy and undermine your self-worth.
Positive Self-Talk: Cultivating an inner dialogue that is encouraging and affirming rather than critical and demeaning. This involves challenging negative thoughts and replacing them with more constructive and loving ones.
Authenticity: Embracing your true self and living in alignment with your values, beliefs, and passions. This means not pretending to be someone you’re not to gain approval from others.
Celebrating Achievements: Taking time to acknowledge and celebrate your successes, no matter how small. Recognizing your accomplishments boosts your self-esteem and reinforces your sense of self-worth.
Seeking Help When Needed: Recognizing that it’s okay to ask for help and support from others, whether it’s friends, family, or professional counselors. This shows that you value yourself enough to seek assistance when you need it.
Self-love. I can do that. I sometimes do do that.
On the dance floor, with a great leader, I dance well. With Bernard the other night, I felt invincible. He led me expertly. He made me beautiful. And I made him look good too. Listening to the sextet on the stage of my local underground tango club, I loved myself. I loved my life, my choices. I knew it was unbelievably cool what I was doing. I love that I found tango, that tango found me.
Maybe, between tango, Leo, and the wild, wonderful, and encouraging voices on Substack, I can find and use my voice.
No. Scratch that. I don’t have time for maybes. Not anymore, if I ever did. The point is, time’s up. The time is now for broadcasting my Self, my Voice, my opinions, my needs, my preferences, my perspective, my experiences, my take on the world, my life.
Because you know what? No one else has my life. It’s the particulars that count. It’s the details, as always. I have them. I can communicate them. And I must.