drglenndoyle

It’s all stuff you’re doing anyway.

So much of what trauma recovery asks us to do, we’re doing already. 

We’re talking to ourselves all day anyway. 

We’re focusing our mental “spotlight” on SOMETHING. 

We’re breathing anyway. We’re doing SOMETHING with our physiology anyway. 

Why not leverage our self talk, mental focus, and physiology in ways that reinforce our safety and stability, that help us feel and function better? 

The reality is, much of our “autopilot” self talk, mental focus, and physiology were programmed into us by abusers and by abusive experiences. 

We often talk to ourselves using vocabulary and tone that we learned from our abusers. 

What we focus on now is often determined by what we had to focus on once upon a time to stay safe. 

How we breathe and use our posture is often a reflection of what we had to do “back then.” 

This is the essence of CPTSD: not just what happened to us, but what those experiences conditioned in us— and how we unwittingly carry them forward in what we say to ourselves, what we focus on, and how we breathe and use our body. 

I didn’t just make up the “self talk, mental focus, and physiology” trifecta. 

I emphasize those because it’s my observation that any and every effective trauma recovery tool is some combination of those three. 

CPTSD recovery has to, has to, has to chip away at that old conditioning. 

It has to, has to, has to scratch that old record. We CANNOT allow that old record to keep playing the way it has been. 

We can “process” our old trauma up and down and sideways— but if we’re not also addressing those old, conditioned patterns, that old programming, we’re going to stay stuck, feeling like garbage, at risk of self harm and addiction and suicide. 

That’s not me being dramatic; that’s the real experience of many CPTSD survivors. 

Remember: we’re all doing versions of the trauma recovery stuff all the time anyway. 

What we need to do is do those things consciously, purposefully, with self-acceptance, self-compassion, and accountability. 

That is to say: you can do this. 

What you “learned” through your traumatic experiences, you can unlearn. 

What has been conditioned, can be reconditioned. 

You are not the one human being in the history of human beings whose nervous system cannot change. 

If you can read this, you can make incremental changes in your self talk, your mental focus, and your breathing and physiology, starting today. And those changes WILL add up. 

That’s not toxic positivity. That’s how recovery has worked throughout the centuries of human beings who have recovered from trauma, depression, and addiction. 

(That’s right, by the way: in working your recovery, you’re part of a recovery tradition that is literally centuries old. Trauma recovery did not start with western psychology, and it will continue being a thing long after psychology is no longer a thing.) 

Easy does it. This is not a “just do (whatever) and you’ll be fine” thing. 

This is a “think realistic, sustainable, .01% choices” thing. 

This is a “slow is steady, and steady is fast” thing. 

This is a recovery thing. “They” wouldn’t get it. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Depression, self-esteem, and trauma recovery.

Experiencing depression does not make you “weak.” 

Weak? Are you kidding me? 

Depression is a killer disease. 

Depression kills more people every year, every day, than anyone will ever acknowledge. 

Living with depression, surviving depression, is a testament to your strength— not your supposed “weakness.” 

There are lots of reasons why people struggle with depression. But “weakness” is not one of them. 

Depression is real. It feels more real to many people than recovery, especially early on in their recovery journey. 

Depression does not just result from “distorted thoughts”— though depression absolutely does distort our thinking. 

Depression is not our fault. 

Depression is not something anyone asks for or wants. 

You’re going to hear lots of bullsh*t about depression. 

You’re going to hear depression framed as a “choice,” and you’re going to hear lots of victim blaming, both implicit and overt. 

Let’s be clear: we do have choices in how we talk to ourselves, where we direct our mental focus or “spotlight,” and how we breathe and use our body— and those choices can impact how we experience and recover from depression. 

But that doesn’t mean you are depressed because of your “choices.” 

Risk factors for depression run the gamut, from genetics to trauma to economic vulnerability to discrimination. Factors that maintain depression can be internal and external, conscious and unconscious. 

There tends to be nothing simple about most peoples’ depression. 

And managing and healing it is almost never a matter of “just do (X).” 

Managing and reducing depression tends to mirror the basics of trauma recovery: we begin with self compassion, patience, and realism. 

Depression tends to meaningfully shift when we start seriously working on our self-esteem— which is also the driver of realistic trauma recovery. 

The six “pillars” of self esteem— living consciously, self-acceptance, personal responsibility, living purposefully, self-respect, and assertiveness— are a roadmap to realistically working on our depression. 

They’re also not f*cking easy. Don’t put up with anyone suggesting they are. 

Both trauma recovery and reducing depression take commitment and time. 

But if you’re a trauma survivor working your recovery— which you probably are, if you’re reading this— you know about commitment and time. 

Easy does it. You can do this. I believe in you. 

Even if I don’t know you, I’m prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt— because I don’t believe anybody is reading these words by accident. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

People will disappoint us. And we have to recover anyway.

People are going to disappoint us on this trauma recovery journey. 

I wish that wasn’t the case, but it most definitely is. 

People who should know better and be better, will be cruel and closed-minded. 

People who themselves have been victims of abuse or neglect, will be mean to others who have survived abuse and neglect. 

People who say they prioritize healing, will follow that up with variants of “…but only for people who I happen to like/agree with/find sympathetic.” 

I wish everyone would be kind. I wish everyone would be realistic. 

I wish you and I would only ever counter people on this journey who were secure and compassionate enough to not let their fears or other painful emotions get in the way of their empathy. 

But that’s not the world we live in, is it? 

We live in a world that tries, at every turn, to control us through shame and anxiety. 

We live in a world that very much wants people repeating and preaching the viewpoints of its political and ideological leaders. 

We live in a world where others trying to control and manipulate us is so commonplace, we barely register it— and we certainly don’t register it as anything especially unusual. 

All of this can be enormously triggering to CPTSD survivors. 

It can remind us that we are often not safe, even in spaces we “should” be, by rights. 

Other peoples’ passions and prejudices should have nothing to do with our recovery, but it’s hard to stay focused on the life we’re trying to create when we have people being expressive, intrusive, and judgmental about so many things. 

We can forget that not everybody is like that. 

We can lose sight of the fact this project is about our safety with ourselves, the safety we create on the inside of our head and heart— not anybody else’s opinions. 

I hate that there’s so much misunderstanding and hate out there. 

I don’t know that there’s more out there than there used to be, but I do think the internet gives many people the opportunity to express their aggressive thoughts in far reaching ways that were not available in years past. 

It’s not easy to stay focused on our own trauma recovery in this world. 

But that’s what I’m going to ask you to do. 

I’m going to ask you to do everything you can to keep coming back to your recovery needs and tools— your self talk, your mental focus, your physiology. 

I know: focusing on ourselves won’t “fix” the culture or the world. 

But it will empower you to have your best shot at doing things that can change the culture and the world. 

It will support your safety and stability in a world that is desperate to upend both. 

Focusing on your trauma recovery, every day, every hour, every minute, with compassion and realism, may not be sufficient to change the world— but it is very necessary. 

Bring it back to center. 

Breathe in to it. Toggle that vagus nerve. 

Blink, blink, blink. 

And focus— on who you are, who you want to be, and what you need today. 

Just keep coming back to your recovery needs and goals. 

Easy, easy does it. 

drglenndoyle

Please, please, please walk your talk, for the trauma survivors in your life.

Few things trigger CPTSD survivors like the people who say they love us, or whose job it is to take care of us, not walking their talk.

This doesn’t just apply to individuals. 

It can apply to institutions who claim to love us— like churches. 

It can apply to businesses whose job it supposedly is to take care of us— like insurance companies. 

It can apply to governments and government programs, the supposed purpose of which is to help us. 

And, of course, it can apply to family members who say they love us. 

Survivors are real sensitive to whether what we’re being told is bullsh*t. 

We’re real sensitive to whether the person saying they love us, or who has committed to taking care of us, is actually doing the thing. 


Love, as it turns out, is a verb. 

If you follow my work you know I’m constantly telling survivors to start their self-love projects with concrete behaviors, even if they’re not vibing with the “feeling” part of “self love” yet. 

Many of us overcomplicate what it means to behaviorally love somebody. 

Love, the behavior, means showing up. 

It means being demonstrably concerned with helping the beloved’s needs get met. 

It means consistently refraining from words or behaviors that will hurt the beloved. 

Do the institutions, people, or families that claim to love us, actually do that? 

Or do their words and actions hurt and discourage us? 

Usually, if we can think to ask that very practical question, the answer will be clear. 

One of the core components of CPTSD tends to be relational trauma— specifically, betrayal trauma. 

Almost everyone who struggles with CPTSD or DID has experienced a relationship that did not live up to what it promised— be it with a person, a family, a church, a job, or something else. 

It’s not that we feel the need to be constantly taken care of, either by people, or by businesses, or by anyone or anything. 

It’s that when we put our faith in someone or something, when we take the risk of trusting them, let alone DEPENDING on them…we need that risk to pay off. 

The people and institutions and companies that we allow into our lives have to walk their talk. 

They have to be who and what they say they are. 

They have to do what they say they’re going to do. 

Something trauma survivors do NOT tolerate well in relationships is feeling set up or duped. 

When we feel betrayed in relationships, we very frequently default to harshly blaming ourselves for having trusted anyone or anything in the first place. 

So much of trauma recovery is about establishing realistic safety. 

It’s really hard to establish safety with a person, a professional, an organization, or anyone or anything else that does not follow through on what it promises— not with perfection, but with transparency and consistency. 

Whether you’re a therapist, a professional, a romantic partner, a clergyperson, or even an insurance adjustor, if you want a trauma survivor to trust and continue to engage with you, you need to walk your talk— and you need to be prepared for survivors to put you through your paces. 

Trust is valuable in any relationship— but in relationships with CPTSD survivors, it is even more precious. 

And we come by that honestly. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Trigger me this, Batman.

Not feeling heard or accurately understood can be a particularly intense trigger for many CPTSD survivors. 

Many of us grew up feeling invisible— or, worse, visible, but disregarded. 

Many of us grew up with people making all kinds of erroneous assumptions about what we’re thinking, who we are, what we need. 

Even now, some of us experience difficulty expressing ourselves, which can lead to others misunderstanding us— or, worse, feeling angry or hurt because of something we said or how we said it. 

All of this means that our nervous system is very sensitive to those feelings— feeling unheard or misunderstood. 

Our traumatized nervous system is all about sounding the alarm when something feels off. 

And our nervous system isn’t particularly shy or subtle about it, either. 

The classic trio of CPTSD triggers are feeling trapped, controlled, or in trouble— but feeling unheard or misunderstood are right up there, too. 

All this matters because it goes to the most effective strategy for soothing and managing our feelings when we’re activated. 

A really useful Recovery Supporting Question (RSQ) tends to be, “What’s getting triggered right now— trapped, controlled, in trouble, unseen, misunderstood?” 

If we can think to ask that RSQ, almost always we can strategize around what we’re experiencing— as opposed to randomly throwing coping skills at it. 

When we’re triggered by feeling unheard or misunderstood, it’s often a young “part” that’s hurting. 

It’s often— not always, but often— a “part” of us that “holds” memories and feelings associated with feeling uncared for, unimportant, or abandoned once upon a time. 

Whatever “part” of us is stinging, we need to meet it with compassion and patience in those moments. 

Getting triggered is not our fault. Trauma responses are not choices. 

But we DO have choices once we realize what’s going on— specifically, choices in how to talk to ourselves, how to direct our mental focus or “spotlight,” and what to do with our physiology, specifically how to breathe. 

Triggers happen. Don’t shame yourself and don’t overthink it. 

Breathe; blink; focus; and remember what the most common triggers are. 

Then ask yourself what a kid who was experiencing those emotions might need from a consistent, gentle adult right now. 

Easy, easy does it. 

drglenndoyle

Complex trauma and complex healing.

If trauma recovery were simple or easy, a matter of “just do (whatever),” we would have done it already. Multiple times, for that matter. 

The fact that most of us have multiple false starts in trauma recovery, or we make some progress and then backslide, or we struggle to identify a realistic starting point— that’s not due to our “weakness” or “stupidity” or “laziness.” Truly. 

That’s due to the fact that our wounds are deep and real, and require a thoughtful recovery blueprint to heal. 

Not only are our CPTSD wounds deep and real, but they go beyond symptoms that have anything overtly to do with our trauma. 

Many survivors don’t even realize that it’s CPTSD they’re struggling with, because what they’re experiencing doesn’t seem directly related to their past. 

Many CPTSD symptoms hook into our beliefs about who we are, what we’re all about, and what the world and other people are all about— and they can masquerade as thoughts and beliefs that are completely removed from anything we’ve ever experienced. 

Often, CPTSD presents as difficulty with executive functioning— making decisions, following through, staying motivated. 

CPTSD can present as anxiety and paralysis around money and finances. 

CPTSD can present as sexual dysfunction. 

CPTSD can present as social anxiety. 

CPTSD can present as anxiety related to something as random as driving or talking on the phone. 

Many survivors look at that array of symptoms and they think, “Okay, even if I DO have trauma in my past, surely THOSE things have nothing to do with it. I just need to get my sh*t together, right? I just need to be an adult and FUNCTION, right?” 

If only it were that simple. 

One of the things that makes complex trauma “complex” is the fact that the connections between what happened to us and what we experience as survivors isn’t straightforward or static. 

A consequence of this is, there aren’t one-stop answers or modalities that “fix” every CPTSD symptom we have— and, to make the waters even muddier, sometimes we can do a meaningful chunk of trauma processing and resolve certain things about our past…but then return to many of these symptoms that we’ve developed in the years since our trauma. 

I know I sound like a broken record when I keep saying trauma recovery is largely about life management, but it is. 

Trauma processing is important, what actually happened to us matters. 

But it also really, really matters how we’re taking care of ourselves now— how we’re talking to ourselves now, how we’re leveraging our mental focus now, how we’re managing our physiology now. 

The quality of our trauma recovery is the quality of our relationship with ourselves. 

And the quality of our relationship with ourselves is the quality of our consistent, realistic self-care. 

CPTSD resists simplistic “just do (whatever)” solutions because it manifests in dozens of ways, in multiple life domains. 

And yes: this can feel overwhelming. 

That’s not about you. That’s about the scope and complexity of the task. 

And it’s also why I keep repeating: come on back to basics, every day. Your 1% “nudge” goals revolving around self talk, mental focus, and physiology— i.e., your relationship with yourself. 

Trauma recovery is real and doable. 

But only if we expand our understanding of how CPTSD can manifest— while at the same time simplifying and concretizing how we meet it, day by day, hour by hour. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

And identify the next recovery supporting micro choice. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma recovery is a no-bullsh*t zone.

Realistic trauma recovery is mostly about not bullsh*tting ourselves. 

Because Trauma Brain is real good at getting us to bullsh*t ourselves. 

We bullsh*t ourselves about the fact we do “everything” wrong or bad. 

Sometimes we bullsh*t ourselves about how something is “fine.” 

Sometimes we even bullsh*t ourselves about not needing to work on something or improve at something. 

As a rule, if we’re leaning toward bullsh*t, either in telling ourselves we’re awesome at everything or we suck at everything, we’re off track in our trauma recovery. 

One of the biggest barges of bullsh*t Trauma Brain— the internalized voices of our bullies and abusers— shovels at us is about how EVERYTHING is our fault, and EVERYTHING is our responsibility. 

That’s just not true. 

It’s also patently untrue that we’re at fault or responsible for other peoples’ choices— including our abusers’ choices to hurt us. 

We absolutely DO have choices in trauma recovery— but that DOESN’T mean we were abused or neglected because we made poor choices in the past. 

But Trauma Brain will push that load of bullsh*t, every day. 

And we often run with it, because the alternative can feel so powerless. 

Put another way: we figure that if we truly did nothing to “attract” or “allow” our abuse, if we truly had no control over it, that means we were powerless— and we might be powerless now over certain things, too. 

Our traumatized nervous system HATES that. 

So it tells us a story about how we we could have avoided it. How we could have escaped, fought back, done or said something to make it stop or not happen. 

It’s bullsh*t. 

(Someone’s going to argue in the comments about that one, and you’re entitled to your feelings— but in my book, any version of “we are responsible for our abuse” is bullsh*t. Your mileage may vary.)

Not bullsh*tting ourselves takes courage. 

Not bullsh*tting ourselves takes persistence. 

Not bullsh*tting ourselves takes energy. 

Most of us would MUCH rather just run with Trauma Brain’s bullsh*t than push back against it every day— because, as painful as Trauma Brain bullsh*t is, we’re utterly unsure what the world might look like if that bullsh*t turned out to be, well, bullsh*t. 

If we’re serious about trauma recovery, we have to take that risk. 

We have to consider the idea that what we’ve believed and felt to be true about how much we suck, how at fault we are, how everything is our fault and everything is our responsibility…is bullsh*t. 

None of that means we don’t have choices or responsibilities in trauma recovery. You bet your ass we do. 


But if we’re going to make those choices well and take those responsibilities seriously, we have to get real. 

We have to see and smell Trauma Brain’s bullsh*t for what it is. 

It’s bullsh*t that feels “right,” mostly because it’s familiar. 

But it’s not about reality— it’s about our bullies and abusers still making us feel like garbage inside our own head and heart, sometimes years after we’ve left them behind. 

I, personally, am over letting them have a vote in what I believe or how I feel. 

So: activate the anti-bullsh*t measures in your head and heart. 

That space is a no-bullsh*t zone. 

Replace the bullsh*t with realism and self-compassion. 

Our abusers would HATE that. 

drglenndoyle

Giving ourselves credit, instead of sh*t.

Giving yourself credit will not make you complacent. Really it won’t. 

Trauma survivors often struggle with giving ourselves credit, because we don’t want to lose our edge. 

We get worried that if we actually acknowledge when we do something well, we might get cocky— and then the sh*t will hit the fan, when our guard is down. 

We don’t believe this out of nowhere. Many of us have had experiences that reinforced for us that constant, constant vigilance was incredibly necessary to stay safe. 

We didn’t have time to sit around and pat ourselves on the back. We had to stay sharp. We had to watch for the next threat, be prepared for the next challenge. 

Add to that the fact that many of us were taught that giving ourselves credit was a form of “egotism” or “arrogance” that we have to stay away from if we want to be a “good” person. 

We were taught that it was unacceptable to even think nice thoughts about ourselves at all, let alone give ourselves actual credit for doing something well or right. 

According to our programming, if we start thinking nice things about ourselves, we’re just ASKING for the universe to step in and remind us that we’re not, actually, “good.” That we don’t, actually, deserve good things to happen to us. 

Trauma recovery asks us to step back and be realistic about where all this programming comes from. 

By and large, this conditioning comes from people and institutions that benefitted from us never cutting ourselves any slack, never giving ourselves credit, never giving ourselves a break. 

These people and institutions want us walking around feeling guilty, disempowered, insecure, and uncertain. 

It makes us easier to control.

It makes us easier to sell stuff to. 

And it makes us less likely to speak up about bad stuff that’s happened to us.

The reality is, in working with hundreds of CPTSD survivors, I’ve never once met one whose main problem was that they were too easy on themsevles, or that they gave themselves too much credit. 

I HAVE worked with dozens and dozens of survivors who did not feel they could make a “good” decision, under any circumstances— so they constantly undermined themselves, reversed themselves, or got so stuck in decision paralysis that they lost the chance to actually choose. 

It’s true that neither you nor I make EVERY decision well. 

But it’s also true that our decision making is almost always a mixed bag— which does include some competent, effective, values-congruent decisions alongside the stinkers. 

Giving ourselves credit for decisions we make well and things we do right matters, because realistic trauma recovery requires us to solidify and deepen our self-trust and self-esteem. 

Our “parts” are counting on us to listen to them and keep them safe— and they’re not going to buy into our ability to do either if we’re constantly doubting and trashing ourselves in our own head. 

We do not have to fall into the toxic positivity trap of telling ourselves EVERY decision we make or EVERYTHING we do is awesome. That’s delusional, and trauma recovery is almost entirely organized around realistically seeing what we see and knowing what we know. 

What we have to do, is be real with ourselves. 

Giving ourselves credit will not make us vulnerable in the way we’ve been conditioned to believe it will. 

It will not make us “arrogant” or “cocky.” 

Giving ourselves realistic credit will point us to our strengths— yes, believe it or not, you have strengths, right here, right now— and help us understand where we get stuck, where we miss things, where we need to pay extra attention. 

Giving yourself credit will not get you into trouble. 

Not with anyone who realistically supports your trauma recovery, anyway. 

Breathe. Blink. Focus. 

And give yourself a break and a pat on the back today. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma recovery and performative bullsh*t.

A vital part of realistic trauma recovery is avoiding performative bullsh*t. 

Because you’re going to run into a LOT of performative bullsh*t out there. 

Much of that performative bullsh*t is being performed by people who say they’re working a trauma recovery or an addiction recovery— but you wouldn’t know that by their “performance.” 

Recovery really is not about performing. It’s not about looking good. 

Because if we’re honest, there are going to be many points in this recovery journey where we don’t look all that good. 

There are going to be MANY points in our trauma recovery journey where we don’t look like we know what we’re doing. 

There are going to be many points in our trauma recovery where we look kind of lost. 

MANY points in our recovery where we’re going to look cringey. Awkward as hell. 

Not every moment in this journey is going to be picture perfect or Instagram worthy— and you know what? That’s okay. 

In fact, that’s more than okay— that’s kind of important. 

Guess how much actual progress we’d make in trauma recovery if only the picturesque moments “counted?” 

“Not much,” is the answer. 

I’ve made the most progress in my own recovery when I’ve been trying new sh*t (or, at least, new-to-me sh*t)…and I’ll spoil the suspense, I, like everybody else, do not look cool when I’m trying out new sh*t. 

I look like I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m not good at it yet— because guess what, that’s exactly what’s going on. 

Trauma recovery asks us to experiment with some radically new-to-us sh*t. 

It asks us to talk to ourselves in ways we are just not used to. 

It asks us to take control of our mental focus, our internal “spotlight,” in ways we were never taught how. 

It asks us to be aware of and leverage our breathing and physiology in ways that, I promise you, will feel awkward and weird and unsustainable at first. 

All of that feels and looks awkward until we get some serious practice at it— and even then, it’s going to look awkward for awhile. 

But that’s kind of the point: we are not doing this to create Instagram-worthy moments of triumph and grace. 

We are doing this “trauma recovery” thing to save and enhance our life. 

We aren’t doing this to impress anyone. 

We MIGHT be doing this “trauma recovery” thing to spite someone, at least a little— but that’s not quite the same thing. 

Performative bullsh*t will kneecap our recovery. 

It’ll distract us. It’ll have us trying to look cool on the outside, rather than focusing on the changes we’re trying to make on the inside. 

That’s not to say we shouldn’t be proud of our observable progress. We should. I like it when I make progress that other people can see, and it’s okay if you like it too. 

But remember that looking cool, when it happens, is kind of a bonus. 

Also remember that the first realistic step toward being good at something is sucking at something. You gotta start somewhere to get somewhere. 

When in doubt, skip the performative bullsh*t, either on the internet or in real life. 

And always prioritize advice from people who have made significant, sustainable changes in their life over time— whether or not their recovery is aesthetically pleasing for inspo-posting. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Codependence and spontaneous combustion.

One of the main reasons we keep doing that f*cked up codependent dance with certain others in our lives is because “part” of us truly believes it’s necessary for safety or survival. 

Codependence is frequently rooted in the “fawn” trauma response. 

Our nervous system believes that if we aren’t who “they” want or need us to be, we’re in danger. 

It’s not that we “choose” it, exactly. 

It’s more that we don’t know how to not do it. 

We don’t know how to tolerate the anxiety that would come with not doing it. 

We may not even know who we are if we didn’t do it. 

The reality is, our identity is very often entwined with who we are to and with others. 

For example, many of our beliefs about who are are are overwhelmingly influenced by who our parents and family believe we are. 

Even now, the easiest way to evoke an emotional flashback in me is to toss me back into a situation with my family of origin— my nervous system, my personality reflexes, even my physiology will start responding to who I was to and with them, decades ago. 

We don’t choose those intellectual and emotional and behavioral reflexes, any more than we “choose” any other trauma responses. 

And breaking out of those codependent loops requires a ton of effort, because it requires us to tolerate a ton of anxiety. 

“Anxiety” kind of undersells it, actually. “Doom-certianty” is closer. 

Our nervous system and “parts” truly believe that certain doom is imminent, if we opt out of those old interpersonal patterns. 

The thing is: it’s not. 

No one has ever spontaneously combusted beucase they opted out of a codependent dynamic, choose not to be who someone else expected them to be. 

We’ll survive opting out of a codependent dance, at least physically. Our anxiety might try to convince us otherwise, but we will. 

And but also, the fact that we’ll survive physically doesn’t speak to what the person we refused to “dance” with might say or do. 

They might, in fact, try to make us feel guilty. Or wrong. Or selfish. 

And, yes: they might try to damage us socially, for the “sin” of abandoning our codependent dance with them. 

I’ll never be flippant about the real costs of opting out of a codependent “dance” with someone who has relative influence in our life. It might not be pretty. 

But you know what else isn’t pretty? Feeling trapped in a self-defeating “dance” with someone we may not even like, just because we’ve been conditioned to keep the beat. 

That’s not pretty for our self-esteem, our values, or our goals— you know, those things that define our trauma recovery. 

No— codependent patterns are not a “choice.” 

But breaking out of them has to be. 

And of course, choices do have consequences— but not all of those consequences are bad. 

Some of them can be quite liberating, even if others mean them to be destructive. 

“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose,” as Ms. Joplin reminds us.