I spent three days in the wild, in a treehouse with no running water and no one at my side. It was a test of sorts – how would I fare on my own and what thoughts would run through my mind? During the day, I hiked. At night, I read. The first book I read was “the five people you meet in heaven” – a book about a man who dies and goes to heaven, only to be greeted by five people who are tasked with explaining his life to him. Little does he know that these five people have one thing in common: they all affected his life and altered it at some point, regardless of whether he was aware of it or not.

The first person he encounters in heaven is someone who died so that he could live. The lesson he learns from this encounter is “that there are no random acts. That we are all connected.” My thoughts instantly went to my twin that never was. Had she been doomed so that I may be spared? I’ve always wondered if the day I die I will finally have her before me – that soul to whom I’ve been connected my whole life but never knew. Will I finally get to see her, hear her, hug her, understand her? Will she understand me?! Has she been watching me from heaven and what does she think of me? Have I disappointed her or made her proud? From that moment, I became determined to live every single day from now on to the fullest. I feel I owe her that much!

The second person he encounters is the army captain under which he served. The lesson he learns from the captain is that “sacrifice is a part of life. It’s supposed to be. It’s not something to regret. It’s something to aspire to.” I thought about all the sacrifices I’ve made in my life and what they have meant to me. I sacrificed my dreams of going away to college so that I could stay and watch over my younger sisters because I knew they needed me. I sacrificed my freedom and happiness by staying in a bad marriage because I knew my children needed me to. It was also the only way I would be able to finish law school and provide for them on my own. I have continued to sacrifice my own freedom to make sure that they can finish college and make something of themselves. Sacrifice is a part of life, but it seems in my life sacrifice has played more than just a part – it has been the leading lady to my life’s play!

The third person he encounters when he goes to heaven is someone he never actually met in real life but who was responsible for the existence of something that was key in his life. I wonder how many people have had a hand in my life even though I never even met them directly. People who turned down opportunities that came to me instead, or who took opportunities that could have gone to me. People who ended up falling in love with someone I could have loved, making it impossible for us to be together, or who didn’t love the people that I ended up with. Now my thoughts drifted to Gigi, the girl who my boyfriend of only two months was texting the entire time he was on vacation with me. Was I the one standing in the way of their true love? Or was her presence in his life the very thing that spared me a greater heartache down the road? It’s like what the movie “Sliding Doors” posits: even if the choices and events are different, are our lives destined to end up at the same place only under different circumstances? This is a mystery for another day, although for now I’m satisfied with the knowledge that as long as Gigi remains a part of my present, I cannot have a future, so it may be time to let go.

The fourth person he encounters is the love of his life, who he lost too early in life and never got over. So basically this author wrote this book for me! Oh the tears I cried as I read the words she says to him when the time comes for him to make sense of that tragic loss in this life: “Lost love is still love.” As the tears streamed down my face, I thought about all the times I’ve longed to hear Tito’s voice call me Nena. All the times I’ve pictured his smile and what he must be thinking if he’s watching me from above. All the times I felt the loss as deeply as I did the first time I heard he was gone, and how I swore there was no way I would ever love anyone as much as I’d loved him. Just imagining that I’ll see him in heaven one day and that I’ll finally be able to look into his eyes and tell him just what he meant to me….well, that’s the greatest gift I could receive in heaven.

I won’t talk about the fifth person he encounters in heaven because that would spoil the whole story. I will say that it’s good!!! All in all, it was a beautiful book that enabled me to really take stock in what I’m choosing to do with my life these days. How I spend my time matters and, more importantly, who I choose to spend time with matters. Reading this book also confirmed what I suspected would come out of this weekend: I need to spend more time with myself, free from distractions and the influence of others. I need to connect with my own soul and with the holy spirit within, and continue to forge the path to my own happiness.

Still, I can’t help but wonder what my life lessons will be when I finally get to heaven, and whose lives will I have forever altered? Who will be there to greet me and explain the meaning of my life to me? Regardless of what I learn and who I learn it from, I’m sure of one thing: it will be amazing! 🙂

What started as an arduous journey to discover my authentic self has turned into my life’s greatest and most self-fulfilling adventure! The journey began with facing some hard truths about myself that left me wondering how in the world I was supposed to be able to essentially change who I am. But it wasn’t until I turned to scripture and began to work the 12 steps that I began to reconcile the idea that I can change my codependent impulses without changing who I am. It all boils down to the simplest idea, which has now become my mantra: I can love who I am without loving everything I do….because Jesus does!

It has become so much easier to catch myself when I’m reacting to something or reverting back to my old patterns. The hard part is knowing what to do about it. Recently, however, I have started to change the way I communicate: I’m making a concerted effort to vocalize my wants and needs without feeling guilty about having those wants and needs. And I have started to use the word “no” instead of always using wavering phrases like “maybe” or “I don’t think so.” I have also started to be more concise in my speech, mainly because I am no longer trying to convince others that I’m good enough or that my ideas and feelings are worthwhile. And I have to say, this new mindset is making a difference!

I no longer feel like I am accountable to anyone and, in reality, I am not. I am only accountable to God, and he accepts me just the way I am – flaws and all! Finally, I have stopped worrying about what others think of me. That was the biggest breakthrough of all! I have found that not explaining myself to anyone and merely stating “I am doing x” without feeling like I need to justify why I am doing X has produced the wonderful side effect of shutting down people’s unsolicited opinions about my life. If only I’d discovered this life hack sooner!

For all these reasons, I have started to pay more attention to how I spend my time. I took a one-hour paddle boat lesson that was so refreshing and fun, and which made me realize that I need to work on my balance and my swimming this year because I intend to try to surf again next summer! I may even make another attempt at skiing this winter if the opportunity presents itself. I have resumed one of my favorite activities – going to concerts – and this year I plan to meet the guys in Toad the Wet Sprocket backstage!! I’ve also discovered a bunch of hiking trails that I want to explore, and booked several jaunts in the wild – beginning with a treehouse in Taberg, NY. I relish the solitude that awaits me in nature, as I go completely off grid and focus only on myself and my connection to my own spirit. And last, but certainly not least, I am going to go camping upstate with my favorite boy scout in October and I simply cannot wait!!

I finally feel like I am starting to live the life I’ve always wanted to live but was either too afraid or too insecure to. I am starting to discover my true self, and I have to say, it feels fucking amazing!!!

We all hate rejection. It makes us feel unwanted, less than, not enough. As a codependent, I’ve spent my entire life fearing rejection. I’ve even made choices – both consciously and subconsciously – in order to avoid being rejected by others. Despite that, however, my life has been a series of rejections:

• My mother rejected me for being non-traditional, outspoken, rebellious, and “just like my father,” which I learned early on was not a good thing in her eyes.
• My father rejected me for being uncontrollable, outspoken, and fearless, even though he gave me plenty of reasons to fear him.
• My sisters rejected me for being too needy, which I now understand was my way of using them to fill the void that was left behind by my missing twin’s soul.
• My first boyfriend rejected me for having strict parents and for being too intense, and he broke my young heart in ways that wouldn’t heal until I met the true love of my life!
• My husband rejected me for not being pretty enough or athletic enough or compliant enough, and he cheated on me regularly.
• Random guys I dated rejected me for being clingy, too emotional, too intense, or too intimidating.
• My father rejected me again as an adult for dating men he didn’t approve of – men he felt were “beneath me” because of lack of education or socio-economics or their race.

Every rejection created a void in the center of my being, which grew and grew over time. I truly believe the void started in utero, when my twin stopped developing. Our souls must have been connected before my birth because I remember always feeling lonely as a child. My older sister was 8 years older than me and she spent a lot of time with me when I was young. She was born to be a teacher and she was the one who taught me my ABC’s and how to count. I idolized her and wanted to be just like her, which I imagine became really annoying during her teenage years. That is when I began to feel rejected because she never wanted me around her friends (obviously)!

My younger sisters were 5 years and 10 years younger than me, and although I bonded with them in different ways, they never quite filled the void either. So whenever I felt lonely, I would imagine that I had a twin and I would play with her and talk to her, and it felt real. The strange thing is I didn’t learn that I was supposed to be a twin from my parents until the age of 18 – when I was applying for college and had to answer a question about whether I had ever had surgery. It wasn’t until then that it occurred to my mother to share with me the fact that I was supposed to be a twin and that my twin never fully developed so when I was born they had to rush me into surgery to detach her remains from me. I’ll never forget the pang that I felt in the center of my being when I heard the truth – the same pang I feel now as I retell the story. Besides the panoply of reasons why I am a codependent, the void left behind by my twin’s soul is likely at the top of the list!

It has taken me a long time to accept this truth about myself, but even longer to process what not having my twin in my life has meant to me. After all, how could someone who never actually existed affect a person’s life? Well, I’m here to tell you it’s possible because it happened to me. That is how I know our souls were connected before our bodies were formed, and why I have grieved this loss for most of my life.

As I reflect on all the loss and rejection I have encountered in my life, I have asked myself, “what lessons have I learned from them?” Turns out I learned a lot from every single rejection:

• My mom taught me that parents are human and they make mistakes. I vowed never to be like her, especially if I had kids of my own.
• My father taught me to be stubborn about what I want for myself and to let no one influence me. He also taught me to fear nothing and no one!
• My sisters taught me how to be alone and how to depend on myself for entertainment. They also taught me that even though they are not there for me on my terms, they are always there for me!
• My first boyfriend taught me that sometimes love hurts and no matter how much you want it to, sometimes love just doesn’t last.
• My husband taught me self-reliance and that no matter how badly I’m hurt, I’m always capable of forgiveness.
• Random guys taught me to beware of random guys, to follow my gut, and to never settle.
• My father recently taught me that I have to put myself first and let go of all toxic relationships in my life, including the one I had with him. More importantly, he taught me that despite his inability to love me and be the father that I deserved, I’ll be okay.

I have always been told that if I choose to be happy, then I will be happy. I’m not sure where I first heard it. I can’t even tell you who has said it to me, but I know I’ve been told that repeatedly. And every single time I remember thinking to myself, “it’s not that easy….I want to be happy, but….” and then I’d think of all the ways other people caused me unhappiness. It makes sense now, because my neural pathways have been programmed to react in codependent ways.

But what does it mean to be happy, anyway? I’m always smiling, finding humor in things, and I generally have a positive disposition. This is what attracts people to me, and why I have such good friends. Surely I’ve experienced happiness! So I did what has now become a part of my daily routine – I set aside some time to reflect. A therapist asked me once, “tell me of a time that you were happy” and while I can’t remember what my response was exactly, I’m sure it included the normal things: hanging out with my friends in high school, going to concerts, the birth of my children, the life-altering experiences I had as a teacher, winning my first case,…” The list probably goes on and on. Looking at this list, what stands out to me most now is that they all involve others. Not that there’s anything wrong with that….

I’ve been thinking about those moments and I realized that there is only one time in my life where my happiness was my own. It flowed from me, and it grew because of how it was nurtured. Even though it also involved another person, the happiness was my own. Everyone who knows me can probably guess which part of my life I’m talking about. It is the time I shared with Tito. Whether we were a couple or just friends during those in-between on-and-off again moments, I was always my authentic self with him. So what was different? He broke my pattern – he was his authentic self too. There was no mystery to solve, and he had already rescued himself, leaving me with nothing to do but love him. He was flawed, of course, just as flawed as I am – and it is our mutual stubbornness that prevented us from moving forward together. I accept that now. But the love was mutual and it was unconditional. It was actually the only unconditional love I’ve ever experienced from a man. And I think that what made it that way was there was an admiration that we each felt for each other. We each had challenges to overcome, and the way we came out on the other side was admirable. Even now, I can feel his love and admiration shine down on me everytime I do something noteworthy. I’m sure as I’m writing this now he’s looking down from heaven with that infectious smile, filled with pride.

Hence my resolve: I will choose happiness. I can and will be happy again, but I will only truly be happy while I am being my own authentic self. I can already tell that it will be a challenge to let go of those feelings that come over me anytime I feel like I need to rescue someone, but I know I have it in me to fix this. After all, I am now aware and can acknowledge all the ways that codependency shows up in my life. And for the first time, I’m confident in my own ability to rescue myself.

After exploring various definitions for the word “codependent” and different stories of how codependency has played out in people’s lives, I have no choice but to accept the truth: I am codependent. What does this mean? Basically, my codependency manifests itself as severe control issues; or as Beattie puts it, “in the ways we let other people’s behavior affect us and in the ways we try to affect them: the obsessing, the controlling, the obsessive ‘helping,’ caretaking, low self-worth bordering on self-hatred, self-repression, abundance of anger and guilt, peculiar dependency on peculiar people, attraction to and tolerance for the bizarre, other-centeredness that results in abandonment of self, communication problems, intimacy problems, and an ongoing whirlwind trip through the five-stage grief process.” Well damn, she may as well have plastered my picture next to that description!

Then again, many of these character traits could just be the result of my Catholic upbringing. So I needed more convincing — before I could accept that this “condition” is the root of my unhappiness, I had to find out what causes codependency. Turns out that, according to Beattie, there are two common groups of people who tend to be codependent. First, people who come from dysfunctional families, often where one family member was an alcoholic. Check. Anyone who knew me growing up can attest to how dysfunctional my family was and how much I despised my father whenever he got drunk. As Beattie explains, those who grow up in dysfunctional families experience an atmosphere that prohibits “discussion about problems; open expression of feelings; direct, honest communication; realistic expectations, such as being human, vulnerable, or imperfect;…” Check, check, check, and check. Growing up, my sisters and I were scolded for sharing anything that happened in our home with outsiders. We were told not to cry when someone died. If we got a B+ on something, we were asked why we didn’t get an A. I’ll never forget one of my best piano recital performances of my young life — the applause filled the small concert hall that my piano teacher had rented for the day to showcase her students’ talents. As I approached my father, he smiled at me and said, “I noticed you missed that flat!” With one comment, all my success was instantly reduced to my one flaw. Okay, so my dad sucked….it’s not the end of the world. Also, even if I were to accept that these are root causes to some of my relationship issues, I’ve overcome much of my childhood trauma already. I need more evidence than that! Coming from a dysfunctional family: that’s too easy!

Enter the next group of people who tend to be codependent: professionals who tend to work in “helping” occupations — nurses, social workers, …..legal services attorneys? I have always been drawn to working with the needy: As a teacher, I liked working with at-risk youth; as a public defender, I preferred the persistent felony offenders; and now, as an immigration attorney, I am especially drawn to victims of domestic violence and human trafficking. But why does that not just make me a good deed doer? A benevolent soul who likes to root for the underdog? I’ll tell you why: because it’s too much. I’m not just drawn to these people, I want to save them. I want to control the outcomes of their cases so badly that sometimes I fantasize about doing things that could ruin me financially or even professionally. “If I lose this case, I’m going to quit being a lawyer!” How many times haven’t I said that? As Beattie describes, “sometimes codependent behavior becomes inextricably entangled with being a good wife, mother, husband, brother, or Christian.”

I allow others to affect me in such a way that causes me pain or unhappiness. There’s no escaping that fact. But what else do I do?

Let’s start with caretaking. Out of 25 caretaking behaviors, I routinely commit 16, the most glaring of which is “try to please others instead of themselves.” I am usually so worried about pleasing everyone around me — my boyfriend, my kids, my friends, my coworkers — that I never stop to consider what they are doing (or not doing) for me. As it usually turns out, no one is ever worried about pleasing me — cause they’re all too busy being focused on their own needs. Meanwhile, I’m the asshole who’s running around trying to be everything to everyone else!

The next section of traits is low self-worth. Out of 33 behaviors exemplifying low self-worth, I routinely engage in 24, the most destructive of which is “pick on themselves for everything, including the way they think, feel, look, act, and behave.” It’s true: I am my own worst critic! Even my humor is self-depricating. I remember the first time my therapist asked me, “what do you like about yourself?” I couldn’t answer her. I sat there silently for what felt like 20 minutes and could not think of a single thing that I liked about myself. Even now, there are the obvious answers — but they all have to do with something I’ve done for someone else. They are not really about me.

The next few lists deal with repression, obsession, controlling, and denial. There’s no denying I match almost all those character traits! Then comes dependency — didn’t feel love and approval from their parents — duh! Poor communication — I don’t say what I mean so I rarely mean what I say! Weak boundaries — the things I’ve tolerated….seriously, what is wrong with me? Lack of trust and anger — well, again: no duh! Who wouldn’t be pissed? Just look at these lists! By the time I reached page 50, there was no denying it. I AM CODEPENDENT. But who could be surprised? I come from dysfunction, I married into dysfunction–twice–and I never really learned how to be at peace with my own self. And that is the biggest tragedy of all of this. I still can’t see what everyone else sees in me. I know it’s there, and I’m hoping now that I’ve accepted my disease that I’ll learn how to cure myself.

This is my first blog – ever! I never imagined I would be doing this and I’m still not entirely sure what motivated me to start this blog, except that I need to do something different. My old patterns aren’t working for me, and it is time to break free of them! I’ve been married twice, raised three children, all while juggling two professional careers back-to-back, and yet I don’t feel like the accomplished woman that everyone else seems to see. Something has been missing within me and I aim to discover what that is. One thing I do know is that I’ve lived 49 years surrounded by people who love me, but most of the time I’ve felt alone.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to start by writing about my issues with my father….although I can’t help but feel some satisfaction at the fact that he would shudder at the thought of me airing my innermost private thoughts out in public! Instead, I want to explore why I haven’t been able to find my happiness. What keeps stopping me from truly enjoying all that I am and all that I have yet to be.

My best friend recently helped me realize that I was not happy in my relationship. I was with this guy for 3 years, and although it’s hard for me to pinpoint exactly when it stopped being fun – when I stopped feeling loved and wanted – it’s obvious now that I was unhappy during a large chunk of that time. What disturbs me most is not that I stayed in it too long, but that I couldn’t admit how unhappy I was. Perhaps if she hadn’t spoken up, I might still be hanging on to a relationship that was going nowhere, with the expectation that one day things were bound to get better. And if I’m being honest with myself, this isn’t the first time I’ve done this. So I ask myself, why does it take me so long to realize that I’m unhappy?

This is as good a starting place as any, and I will begin by exploring what it means to be “codependent.” I’ve heard people throw this word around, (often at me), but I’ve never really understood what it means. I consider myself to be an extremely independent person, who hates being told what to do by anyone – and I’ve been a rebel most of my life – so surely I can’t be codependent! Right???

To get to the bottom of this, I bought the foremost authority on the subject: “Codependent No More” by Melody Beattie. I started reading it and, right there, in the middle of page 2, was the sentence that jumped off the page and slapped me across the face: “I saw people give until they were angry, exhausted, and emptied of everything.” That sums up how I have felt this past year! And that’s when it hit me: it wasn’t even a secret! I was in a relationship with someone who knew I was giving, giving, giving, and he just kept taking, taking, and taking. I rummaged through my desk drawers for all the birthday, anniversary and holiday cards he had given me this past year, and there was the proof – in his own handwriting: “You do so much for other people, I hope you enjoy your Christmas.” “I appreciate everything you do and have done for me. Not just me, but also my family.”

Don’t get me wrong – it’s nice to be appreciated, and I like that I am a giving person. But if that is the message being transmitted to me during every special occasion, perhaps I was overdoing it? I remember now how angry those words made me. Instead of declarations of love or musings about my various quirks – the things that I think make me unique and cute even – all I got was what felt like code for “I only love you because of what you do for me.” That’s not unconditional love! So why did I settle for that? And if I wasn’t getting the affection I needed out of the relationship, why did I continue to give it my all? Even after I already knew that he would be moving out, I was still buying his favorite toothpaste so that he wouldn’t have to use the one with the minty stripe that I preferred. Who does that?

The answer was once again in the pages of the book – in black and white print, two paragraphs down: “I saw people-pleasers, martyrs, stoics, tyrants, withering vines, clinging vines, …” No doubt I’m a people-pleaser, but am I a martyr? How are those thrown in the same list, and with stoics, and tyrants too? Is this part of what it means to be codependent and, if so, is that what keeps stealing my happiness? Do I care more about others than I do about myself? And what makes me think I should? If giving is supposed to be a selfless act, then by giving only to those who are worthy, would it not cease to be selfless and instead turn into nothing more than quid pro quo? Where is that line, if it exists, and how will I learn to recognize it?

So many questions! I’m going to have to keep reading . . . . so stay tuned!