If You Keep Ending Up in ONE-SIDED, CHAOTIC, OR DYSFUNCTIONAL Relationships, This is For You...
Healing the Part of Me That Thought Struggle Was Love
“Because he tried to strangle me out of my car to get his cigarettes. I threw his cigarettes out.”
That was the message that broke my heart.
My friend—beautiful, resilient, selfless, successful, emotionally intelligent, intellectually intelligent, self-sufficient, wise, a visionary—sent me that text, and in that moment, I realized something I wasn’t ready to admit out loud:
She became a mirror. A reflection of a truth I carry, too.
Because I remembered my own moment—the vows I made to myself when I got married.
“If he ever cheats on me, I’ll leave.”
“If he ever puts his hands on me, I’ll leave.”
And he did.
And I stayed.
Why?
Because of my codependency.
Because deep down, I was still trying to prove I was worth staying for.
Because I still believed that maybe if I loved harder, stayed longer, sacrificed more—I’d finally be seen, chosen, protected.
Because I had confused love with struggle.
Because I was addicted to proving my value through pain.
And it’s easy to say, “I would never,” until the wound beneath the logic gets touched…
Until abandonment anxiety flares…
Until your worth is entangled with their healing…
Until you're so used to tolerating emotional neglect that love without pain feels foreign.
Until you're more afraid of being alone than being broken.
So when my friend sent me that message, I didn’t judge her.
I recognized her.
I remembered who I was back then.
And I realized that this wasn’t my moment to “fix it” for her.
It was my moment to be the person I once needed—a mirror without judgment…
A presence without pressure…
A truth-teller without condemnation.
And the irony?
The very discernment I was known for—the wisdom I gave so freely to others—I couldn’t receive for myself when I was in it.
Because accountability feels different when you’re the one in love.
When your identity is tangled up in saving someone who’s hurting you.
When your “strength” is built on silence and self-abandonment.
I wasn’t ready then.
But I’m ready now.
My Mask of Codependency: “Being the STRONG One”
I’ve always been the strong woman.
The capable one.
The “you always have it together” one.
But here’s what most people don’t know:
I became “strong” because I had to be.
I was the emotional regulator in my household.
I was my mother’s right hand because my father was absent.
I was the co-parent before I even hit puberty.
I learned early how to read moods, soothe tension, manage chaos, and anticipate emotional eruptions before they happened.
Not because I was wise—but because I was scared.
Not because I was grown—but because I was never allowed to be a child.
My mom used to brag about how, at four years old, I already knew how to cook and clean.
How I could puree food for my disabled baby brother—who had undergone nine surgeries and needed a feeding tube. Hell, I even taught my younger brother how to read.
And for a long time, I wore that like a badge of honor.
Because no one told me that was grief in disguise.
Now I see it for what it was:
Not a source of pride, but a source of pain.
I didn’t have a childhood.
I had responsibilities.
I didn’t grow up—I parented my way through youth.
And while my mother may have appreciated what I did, she didn’t know how to be emotionally available.
She didn’t know how to protect me in the ways I needed.
She couldn’t choose my emotional safety over what she needed from me.
And my father—he was inconsistent, emotionally unavailable, and absent when I needed him most.
So I became the strong one.
The “do-it-all” girl.
I stepped into masculine energy because I had to protect myself—because no one else did.
And that was the birth of my codependency:
Trying to earn love through usefulness.
Trying to feel safe by being needed.
Trying to create order where there had only ever been abandonment.
What Codependency Has Looked Like for Me
From my journal, my healing, and the mirror I didn’t want—but needed—to face.
Caretaking & People-Pleasing
I feel responsible for how other people feel, act, or respond.
I offer advice, solutions, and emotional labor even when it’s not asked for.
I feel guilt or anxiety when I can’t “help.”
I anticipate others’ needs but suppress my own.
I say yes when I mean no.
I do things for people who are capable of doing it themselves.
I find myself doing more to avoid being abandoned or disliked.
I feel safest when I’m giving. I feel lost when I’m receiving.
Control & Obsession (masked as love or concern)
I obsess over people’s problems and how to fix them.
I abandon myself the moment someone else needs something.
I feel compelled to “check in” constantly, even when it drains me.
I lie to myself to protect the image I have of someone.
I ignore red flags to avoid facing the truth.
I overanalyze people’s behavior and think it’s about me.
I confuse control with safety.
Low Self-Worth & Identity Confusion
I don’t know who I am outside of helping or proving myself.
I feel ashamed of who I am when I’m not achieving or giving.
I don’t believe I’m enough unless I’m needed.
I feel guilty for resting, spending money on myself, or taking space.
I pick myself apart internally—my looks, thoughts, choices, everything.
I reject compliments. I don’t believe praise unless it’s tied to performance.
I carry a silent belief that I don’t deserve good things.
Boundaries & Denial
I let people cross lines I swore I’d never allow.
I stay in relationships longer than I should out of fear.
I downplay how bad something is to cope.
I get angry when others hurt me—but stay anyway.
I numb through work, emotional caretaking, or fantasizing about being “chosen.”
I pretend things are better than they are just to get through the day.
Trust Issues
I don’t trust myself to make decisions.
I don’t trust my feelings.
I don’t trust that I’ll be okay if I walk away.
I try to trust people who have already shown they’re not trustworthy.
I confuse hope with proof.
I lose faith—in others, in myself, in God.
Emotional Suppression & Anger
I repress anger until it explodes.
I cry, overeat, overwork, or get sick instead of feeling what I feel.
I shame myself for having needs or being upset.
I carry silent resentment while still showing up.
I’m more comfortable being angry than vulnerable.
I feel bitterness where I once felt hope.
Sex & Emotional Intimacy
I’ve had sex to feel wanted when I really just wanted to be held.
I disconnect during intimacy.
I withhold or offer sex out of fear, pain, or pressure.
I have a hard time asking for what I need emotionally or physically.
I perform closeness without always feeling it.
Progressive Traits (the cost of unhealed patterns)
I isolate when I feel too much.
I feel depressed when my emotional investments go unreciprocated.
I lose my structure, motivation, and sense of self.
I fantasize about escape more than I actually take action.
I swing between being overly responsible and completely detached.
I’ve betrayed myself to be loved—and felt the pain of it long after.
And now I know:
These traits once kept me safe—but now they keep me small.
These patterns once made me feel useful—but now they make me tired.
And the truth is, I’m ready to build something else.
I’m ready to love myself in ways I’ve begged others to love me.
This is no longer about proving I’m strong.
This is about reclaiming my softness without shame.
It’s about learning the art of detachment, the art of acceptance, and building the emotional spine to let things fall away when they’re not aligned; Because I no longer want to be admired for how much I can carry.
I want to be free.
Because the truth is…
Until we heal that root wound—we don’t just date people.
We date our parents.
We date the people who wounded us first.
We attract the very dynamic that taught us love was something to earn, fix, or chase.
And I had to learn that too.
I had to stop blaming my ex-husband.
I had to stop seeing myself as a victim.
Because it was never really about him—it was always about me.
About the parts of me that I had buried under hyper-independence, hyper-intelligence, and hyper-capability.
Because the one thing I never wanted to reveal—the one place I still felt like a failure—was in receiving genuine love.
That’s where I still felt abandoned.
That’s where I didn’t feel worthy.
That’s where I lost myself trying to be everything—except vulnerable.
And that was the final mirror:
My codependency wasn’t about the people I loved.
It was about the part of me that didn’t know how to love myself fully—without performance, without pain, without proving.
As Above So Below, As Within So Without…
If you’ve seen yourself in any of this—you’re not alone.
This isn’t about blame. This is about naming.
And naming is the beginning of liberation.
Reflection Question:
Have you ever mistaken survival for strength?
What would it look like to finally choose you?
Referenced Reading
Much of the insight and trait breakdown in this post was deeply informed by the book:
Codependent No More: How to Stop Controlling Others and Start Caring for Yourself by Melody Beattie
This book was a mirror that helped me name what I couldn't see. If you're walking this path too, I highly recommend it.
With reverent growth + radical honesty,
CancerMystique™ 💋
Where strength is no longer performance—it’s presence.
Where we no longer confuse chaos with connection.
Where we stop parenting our partners and start reparenting ourselves.
Where soft becomes sacred, truth becomes liberation,
and emotional intelligence becomes the ultimate rebellion.
🌙 About CancerMystique™
CancerMystique™ is a sacred space for the ones who feel deeply, love fiercely, and grow intentionally.
Here, we don’t just talk healing—we embody wisdom.
We explore life’s shadows with compassion, alchemize pain into purpose, and reclaim our power through presence, truth, and soul mastery. We do this through the lens of Universal Law, self-awareness, and inner wisdom—applying truth wherever it appears: astrology, human design, books, synchronicities, conversations, and reflections. Everything becomes a mirror. Everything is here to be embodied, not just studied.
I believe that we all hold the answers we seek. Along the way, we encounter guides, mirrors, and sacred reflections that help us remember. The truth is—you already have all the answers you need. You just needed a space safe enough, soft enough, and sovereign enough to return to them. Thank you for allowing my words to be part of your evolution. Your presence, your work, and your connection are deeply honored.
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This line hit home:
Until you're so used to tolerating emotional neglect that love without pain feels foreign.
My father was the avoidant. My mother the co dependent. I’ve dated both of them.
Took a long time of relationship anorexia to find self love and not drown myself in others.
Repressed anger to then explode.
Used sex for escape and control instead of just love
I finally attracted someone healthier since I’m healthier but I’m still noticing issues pop up that need attention instead of repression.
The work never ends. 😏
Wow! This is so clearly expressed and deeply accessible. I really appreciate how you laid out the many ways codependency can show up, especially how it’s often mistaken for strength or selflessness.
I write about boundaries in relationships too, and this reminded me: boundaries aren’t always about keeping others out—they’re often about protecting ourselves from these very patterns. Thank you for putting this into words so powerfully.