Because anxiety and specifically worry and compulsive overthinking seem to affect Willow the most and plague her throughout her entire appearance in ‘BtVS’, the thing she really needed to do to deal with that was work through her emotions. Self-acceptance is a tricky thing to do but it almost always requires you to process your thoughts and emotions rather than ram-rush through them or avoid, escape and distract yourself from them because that only tends to make them build up over time and attack you even harder in the end. Like a balloon popping at any seemingly random moment. But it’s because you never notice it filling up with any helium. You never notice that there’s an emotional wound there that’s only getting quick fixes and band aids and not a lengthy treatment or therapy to work through it.
The whole thing with Willow is that she doesn’t want to address anything going on in her head directly. She just wants to make whatever negative thoughts or feelings she’s having in the moment disappear. She doesn’t want to do the hard work to work through them and she certainly doesn’t want to do that alone. She wants to immediately break free from all of it and just fly off. Move on to something new without doing what she needs to do to resolve what’s bothering her.
Enter Tara: Tara establishes very early on in her appearance and relationship with Willow and with the rest of the Scooby Gang that she will be this person. Will be the rock to keep them stable or the glue that holds them together. And every single time she’s like “I’m with you”. She not like “I’ll help you” or “I’ll support you” or “I sympathise with you”. She’s like “I’ll be with you.” This is especially true and most important when it comes to Willow as her girlfriend. In the episode ‘Who Are You’, Tara uses a very appropriate term for something she always is for and does with Willow: “Anchor”. At the time she means it literally when they perform the Nether Realm spell. But metaphorically Tara is always Willow’s anchor. She is always the weight that holds Willow down and that keeps her in place when it comes to her anxiety. That steadies her, reassures her and validates her. And when Willow goes through intense anxiety spells, she’s there grounding and guiding her through them. Neither allowing her to ignore her emotions nor forcing her to face them alone. It’s not until Willow’s coping mechanisms for her anxieties and insecurities become unhealthy and destructive and start affecting and harming Tara personally does she sever herself from Willow. At that point Willow’s insistence to do the unhealthy or destructive thing in dealing with situations and her emotional turmoil because of it is something that can’t be resolved with Tara being her anchor because she’s inadvertently part of the problem in that Willow instead just always relies on magic, and specifically performing magic where she chooses to drop her anchor instead and go at it alone.
I’ve talked a lot about co-dependency when it comes to Willow with her being co-dependent to Tara so what I’ve said above might sound contradicting since I’ve said that Willow chooses to “drop her anchor” in dangerous situations such as performing complicated magicks - showing her independence. But the reason why being co-dependent to your partner is unhealthy and destructive is because it’s not about your partner. It’s about either how you can use your partner or control them to do something. It’s not about love.
Take for example Riley’s response after Buffy asks him “Why all the crazy?” in ‘The Yoko Factor’ - referring to his jealousy and the assumption that Buffy might cheat on him with Angel if he allows her alone time with him. He says “because I’m so in love with you I can’t think straight” immediately putting his inability to cope with his thoughts and emotions about Buffy and Angel on Buffy. Using his “love” for her as an excuse to absolve himself from his own destructive actions and choices. That’s not love even if the person is actually in love with their partner. It’s emotional abuse. It’s putting all of the baggage and damage that you yourself have to sort through and heal on them. And while said partner might offer that dependence, it’s actually wrong to expect them to be around so that you can depend on them. So that you can use them to excuse the destructive shit that you’re doing. And when the person turns around and says “actually, it’s about me taking care of you”… that’s not the case. They might believe that but because they have no self-awareness of their own destructive behaviour, it actually means that their partner has to deal with it. That’s why co-dependence is not a good thing at all.
So Willow’s co-dependence to Tara is not about loving her even though she does love her. It’s a way to absolve herself from her own destructive behaviour. It’s using her. And with using magic on Tara in wiping her memories it’s also about controlling her to do what she wants her to do or to think how she wants her to think. Taking Tara’s autonomy away from the situation. Changing or altering her emotional state. Tara offers to be her anchor any and at all times and Willow gets so comfortable with that that she ends up taking advantage of Tara for her own selfish reasons. Which is the addict’s way as well as an abuser’s way. And so Tara has to do the hardest thing. Stop being it. Because she knows that at that point it’s not helping. And it wouldn’t unless Willow could first acknowledge and then accept that her own destructive behaviour is actually destructive. Only then could Tara be there for her and offer to be her anchor once again. Only then would Willow’s dependence on Tara be healthy again and be about mutual love and reassurance and validation instead of abuse and power and control.
Prelude - This is just an excuse for me to write subby(-ish), angry baby boy with a mommy kink, sorry. Want to put a little reminder here that this is fiction, and it’s depicting a bad relationship
Seriously you guys, I feel like I need to reiterate that a relationship like this isn’t healthy. Your partner should not cling to you 24/7, they should not try and manipulate your feelings. They can communicate their feelings in such a way (Baby, I’m feeling a little lonely right now, would you be up for some cuddling?) that doesn’t force you into rushing to assure them that you still love them because otherwise they’ll have a complete breakdown. I feel like this fic is an example of some unhealthy codependency stuff. I don’t condone this stuff, it’s not good, it’s very unhealthy.
Pls, pls, if you feel like your relationship might be bordering into something where you feel pressured to cater to your partner in ways you’re uncomfortable with out of fear that they’ll have a breakdown, talk to someone. Anyone. A therapist, a friend, a trusted adult, anyone. This is fiction, and it isn’t healthy, nor good
When Izuku sees another man talking to his girlfriend (it could be anyone, a store clerk, your coworker, the guy delivering pizza, your brother for christsake) he gets so incredibly needy.
Pulling at your clothes, whining when you have to leave for work in the morning, clinging to you like a child and refusing to let go.
He makes you late for work sometimes, working himself up when he wakes up in bed to find you getting ready in the bathroom, stumbling to your side and draping his arms around you before begging you not to leave. Acts like a petulant baby while you try to make coffee, grabbing your mug and putting it somewhere out of reach with a frown (if you can’t make coffee, you can’t leave. he knows that’s not how it works but he doesn’t want you to go, Izuku’s willing to try anything to get you to stay), his eyes so hurt and upset when all you do is huff and grab another mug from the cupboard.
Izuku holds you too close when he gets jealous, almost crushing you in his grip when he comes up and hugs you while you’re paying the delivery guy, glaring over your shoulder to make it clear that you’re his. When you’re talking to your brother, Izuku clings to your hand, pulls you into his lap, tries to touch (sometimes inappropriately) so much that you find yourself annoyed with him, batting him away so you can have a conversation with your brother.
And that hurts Izuku even more, feeds the flames of his jealousy until they’re an all-consuming fire of bitterness and insecurity.
The man is sure to swing by your office on his lunch breaks, bringing you your favorite foods to show you how good he is to you, even sitting and eating with you like a good boyfriend. He makes sure to be overly affectionate, holding up his chopsticks to your mouth, cooing at you to open so he can feed you, giving you a peck on this lips after you take a bite. If he finishes his own food before you do, Izuku spends the rest of lunch kissing at your neck, occasionally stopping to rest his head against your shoulder like a sleepy toddler.
One time, your coworker had passed by the break room, and made eye contact with you while Izuku was trying to suck at your neck with his arms wrapped around your shoulders. It made you blush so hard, and you couldn’t talk to that coworker for at least a week. Obviously, that’s always Izuku’s goal with such overt PDA whenever he stops by your office.
It’s hard not to get short with him, shrug him off or let you irritation show in your voice when you tell him to give you some space. Izuku takes that personally, somehow wiggles himself even closer while pouting and trying to make excuses for why he needs to be in your space.
When you do snap, raising your voice a bit at your boyfriend and telling him you’d like to watch the movie alone, Izuku rears back from your body, eyes wide and breathing hard, as if you’d physically struck him. You don’t feel guilty though, he’s been hounding you all week, never giving you room to breathe, initiating sex every single night just so you can feed his craving for your touch.
He leaves the bedroom, sulks off to the living room with his tail between his legs, letting you finally take a breath.
You only finish an episode or two before his back, clutching at his sleeves, tears in his eyes, sniffling and looking so small. He’s past 6′, a full grown man, and yet he’s shrinking in on himself so much that he looks far shorter than you.
“Are you mad at me?”
And of course you aren’t, not really. But you’re a full grown adult, and it’s not healthy for Izuku to be so dependent on you, so clingy and needy and possessive.
“I’m not mad Izuku, I just wanted some space.” You sigh.
“You’re ignoring me.” And his tears hit full force, bubbling over and running down his cheeks, and your heart drops.
He’s manipulating you, always does. You’re not stupid, you know this isn’t a good relationship - Izuku’s dependent and jealous of anyone who isn’t him, and you enable that behavior, don’t do enough to curb it. But he’s a full grown man, you aren’t his mom.
Izuku doesn’t agree.
“’M sorry mommy, I just want to be close to you... please don’t make me leave.” And he looks so pathetic, so desolate standing there in the doorway, cheeks wet and red from crying.
A beat passes while you war with yourself.
But you can’t ever seem to uphold your own boundaries.
“C’mere, it’s okay.”
And he’s by your side in a flash, climbing onto the bed, face-planting into your chest, his hands desperately petting at your neck and hair as if he’s trying to soothe himself. It’s an awkward position, but it’s one that he’s comfortable with. you know trying to encourage him to put his face anywhere else would result in a giant fit.
He’s crying heavily, tears soaking your shirt, mumbling about how he’s sorry, how he needs you, how you’re making him sad and feel so unloved.
You feel a little bit guilty, even though you know you shouldn’t
Stroking his hair, you making shushing sounds, trying to calm him. “Shhh shhh shh, it’s okay Izu. I love you, you’re okay.”
“But I’m not!” He cries, head lifting, fixing you with a pouty glare. His eyes are puffy and red, he’s biting his lip, and he looks like a man again, angry at you. “You’re getting tired of me and you don’t want to date me anymore.” Izuku’s lip wobbles, and then he’s burying his face back into your chest unhappily.
“Izu... no baby...” You start. “I love you so much, I’m not breaking up with you.”
Although, maybe you should.
The man shakes his head, and you want to huff at his childish display, but you know he’s sensitive, know he’s a bit more emotional than most, always has been.
“You don’t love me. You keep talking to other guys, and you won’t spend time with me anymore. You don’t even want to have sex with me, I know you don’t, I can tell.” He accuses.
That’s not the truth at all, and part of you knows it. He’s good at fucking you, knows how to play your body like the most treasured instrument. Izuku’s so enthusiastic, so eager to please, going down on you with determination to make you writhe and scream on his tongue. When you pull him away, he’s blushing, panting, almost dizzy from the rush of making you cum..
“Tell me it feels good. Did I do it right? Did I make you cum?” and you’re nodding your head, pussy still pulsing lazily from the aftershocks.
He always grinds himself against the bed, and it must feel good because by the time he pushes inside, he’s barely able to stop himself from cumming at the oversensitive squeeze of your cunt.
But he always makes sure to make you cum one last time before he finds his own release.
And it’s not true that you won’t spend time with him, or that you’re always talking to other guys. You hardly talk to anyone anymore, Izuku even finding problems with your female friends (”They aren’t good for you, I bet they’re talking about you behind your back. I mean, look how easily they talk about that one girl when she's not hanging out with you all.”)
“Izuku, you’re being a dumb baby, get up here.” Sometimes the only way to shut up his insecurities is to take control, so you do. Tugging on his hair until he pushes upward, you find his mouth, kissing him deep.
When you pull away, eyes closed, lips warm from how intently Izuku kissed you back, you can feel your boyfriend hovering, mere inches away from your face.
“Show me you love me. I want.... I want you to show me mommy. Make me feel loved, please?”
Ah, so that’s how he wants you.
When he gets angry, upset with you, Izuku resorts to name calling. not the vicious, cruel, bullying kind. No, he calls you mommy, expects you to take care of him, make him feel good and shower him in love ‘til he cries, until he doesn’t have to doubt you.
You always do whenever he calls you mommy. There’s an underlying threat whenever he insists on the dynamic, a simmering malice that you can barely pick up on. A little bit of you is... almost afraid. But if you’re quick to adapt to the role he wants you to play, as you always are, nothing comes of that hint of hostility hiding beneath his cry-baby cover-up.
“Turn over then baby.” You tell him, pushing at his chest.
He does so easily, watching with wide eyes as you rise to your knees, beginning to strip seductively, starting with your shirt.
“Keep your eyes on mommy, want you to watch.”
“Okay.” He breathes, a hand falling to his crotch, squeezing at the quickly-developing bulge there.
You allow it for now, more focused on swinging your hips, bringing your shirt over your head sexily, letting it mess up your hair as you tug it off before throwing it off the bed.
Shimmying your bottoms down, you leave your panties on, shifting to lean against one hip to pull your bottoms the rest of the way off, pointing your toes as you bring them past your feet.
Izuku’s eyes follow the garment, before flicking back to your panties.
They’re nothing special, just simple cotton underwear that keeps you covered, but Izuku thinks you look hot in everything, anything.
“Mommy... want you bad. ‘M hard, please-please fix it.” He whines, bucking his hips up into his hand.
You swat at his hand, and he yelps a little before looking at you with confusion.
“No touching, only mommy gets to do that.”
Izuku nods so quickly his neck pops, which makes you smile a bit. When he’s not being needy or clingy, he’s cute. It’s what drew you to him in the first place, what reeled you in.
You start by running a hand over his clothed chest, dragging fingertips over his nipples, watching as your boyfriend puts his hands above his head and lays back, eyes fixed on you.
Hands hook around the waistband of his sweatpants, beginning to slowly drag them off his body. You press them down hard over his bulge, and your boyfriend stutters out a breath.
His shirt gets pushed up to his face, where you hold it above his mouth.
“Open up baby boy.”
He opens his mouth, and you stuff the hem in, telling him to bite down. He does.
You duck down a bit to lick at his chest, laving over his nipples with the flat of your tongue just to feel the man jump a little, arching his back to press his chest further into your mouth.
But you were only here to tease, so you pulled away , running a hand down his abdomen so you could trace a finger up his hard cock.
It was easy to get him worked up, tapping two fingers against his shaft, lightly giving his balls a squeeze, scratching at his thighs with your nails.
Izuku was getting his shirt wet, whining around the fabric, bucking his hips into you touch, trying to entice you to stroke his entire shaft instead of teasing.
You quickly put a stop to that with a hand pressing down against his hipbone, pinching the skin there to make it clear that you didn’t want him to move.
Teasing a bit more, you leaned down, blowing cool air across the tip of his cock to watch the man jump, eyes flying open at the sensation. When you did it again, following the movement with attaching your mouth around the head and suckling, Izuku’s eyes rolled back in his head, toes curling.
He was moaning behind his shirt, trying to say something, but you were too preoccupied with digging your tongue into the slit, slurping at his cock like it was a piece of candy.
Your hand finally closed around his length, giving him a light, quick stroke before letting go, popping your mouth off his cock to lick at the sides, closing your mouth over the tender, barely-there veins and giving them a quick suck.
Izuku choked out a loud moan, and you looked up to find him staring at you, pupils dilated, breathing hard through his nose.
He was wanting you to hurry up.
Even though you were supposed to be in charge right now, Izuku still held the power.
You gripped his shaft again, rubbing the velvety skin between your fingers and palm, before slowly beginning to jerk him off. It was too dry, too rough though, and you know Izuku wasn't fond of that, so you stopped a moment to gather spit in your mouth.
“Izu, watch baby.” You told him, making sure he was looking down at you before you opened your mouth, letting your saliva slowly drool out and onto his cock.
The man looked like he was going to burst.
You did that a couple more times, telling your boyfriend to watch each time.
Now thoroughly wet, you gripped him tight again, resuming your leisurely pace.
“Izu baby, if you want to cum you gotta ask.” You say gently, hand speeding up around his length.
Izuku groans, throwing his head back onto the pillows, letting the wet hem of his shirt fall from his mouth. “Can I... can I cum mommy? Please? I-I need to cum.”
You stay quiet, wanting to push him a little more, hand barely moving around his cock, but your grip tight and slick.
His face is all red now, the tears from earlier dry on his cheeks. “Oh mommy, please let me cum, you feel so good. ‘M so clo-se! Please, please-”
Twisting your hand around the tip before letting go, you watch his cock bob, twitching, so red and hot. The veins on the underside are pulsing, Izuku’s balls drawing up, his stomach tensing as he struggle to hold back, struggles to be a good boy.
You know he loves this - loves when you make him wait, when you make him beg.
“You don’t sound like you really want it ‘Zuzu, I don’t know if I should let you.” You’d learned over time what he wanted when he got like this, what you were supposed to do to make him happy.
Izuku wanted you to be a bit mean, to tease and tease and not let him cum.
He let out a wail, squirming against the sheets, hands still obediently above his head, although they opened and closed shakily as if he wanted to grab onto something, probably you.
“No, ohhh, mommy I do, I want it s’bad!
Shaking your head makes Izuku whine, his hips thrusting into the air desperately before they stilled.
“Please... You make me feel so-so good mommy. I love you so much. just wanna cum...”
And his voice sounds so broken, all raspy and breathless, so you relent.
You strip his cock hard and fast, the wet sound of your hand around his length clicking around the room as Izuku almost screams at the sudden stimulation.
He jerks against the bed, thrusts up into your hand, you watch his abdomen ripple and his thighs tense and-
You let go of his cock right as he starts to cum, and Izuku lets out a wounded cry. His hands fly to his aching cock to rub himself through his orgasm, ease the tingling and the throbbing as his cock jerks, but you’re faster. His wrists are grabbed, and you pull them to your chest, ignoring the eyes looking at you pleadingly. Your own eyes are focused on his cock, globs of cum oozing out of the tip, running down the sides, his cock twitching and moving as if it had a life of it’s own.
“MOmmy no!” The man cries, but it’s useless now, his orgasm’s already been ruined.
“Shh ‘Zuzu, you’re okay. Mommy loves you.” You soothe, moving to his side so you can give him an awkward hug, his hands flying to clutch at you as soon as you let go of them/
“Mm, love you, love you mommy. Love you so much.” He sniffs, his hands pulling you to him so tight that you almost lose your balance.
You give him a pat on the shoulder, before trying to pull away, stopped by his firm grip. “Baby, let mommy go so I can take care of you.”
The man sniffs once more, pressing himself to you tightly with a wet kiss to your neck before relenting, letting you sit up.
A timid smile graced your lips as you shuffled down again, attention back on his cock.
It was even wetter now, cum barely dribbling out the tip, some of it on your boyfriend’s lower tummy, some of it slipping to his balls. His legs were spread, and you’d be surprised if some of the whiteish liquid hadn’t dripped down his taint.
Gently, you started rubbing his thighs, soft little circles meant to soothe and calm.
You spent a fair amount of time doing that, ten minutes, fifteen, then twenty, laying your head on Izuku’s knee as you lost yourself to the mechanical movement.
But then his leg jerked, shaking you to the present and out of your thoughts.
His cock was hard again.
He was looking down at you with big, expectant eyes, watching your every move like a cat watching a mouse. You were supposed to be in charge, but you never truly felt like it.
“Pretty boy... you’re so pretty, know that?” You cooed, reaching up to start sliding your hand along his length, the texture slick and somewhat sticky.
Izuku moaned. “Not-not as pretty as mommy... You’re the prettiest. Love you...” He trailed off, obviously wanting you to say it back.
“I love you too Izuku.” And then it was back to teasing, rubbing at his cock before gripping him tightly, squeezing at the base, playing with his balls, fondling the soft skin.
He was getting impatient.
“Mommy, I wanna fuck you.” Izuku whined, his eyes tearing up, already shuffling so he could sit up.
You were tired, but you figured that he might as well. Telling him no might lead to a big fight, and you’d be back where you started, Izuku accusing you of the unforgivable offense of no longer loving him.
Nodding, you let go of his cock.
Within seconds, you were on your back, your boyfriend pushing and pulling at your limbs until they were where he wanted them.
“Oh, look at mommy, look at this.” the man sighed, pulling your panties to the side to reveal your slit, already glistening. “All for me, right? Just me?”
“Mm-hm.” You reassured him, jolting a bit as his fingers started to slide against your folds, before rushing to dip one inside.
He was often too eager with this stage, wanting to fuck you now. But you endured, wincing a bit at the slight sting as he began pushing in and out, dipping down to mouth at your neck.
Green curls tickled your skin, and you latched onto them, tugging a bit when he pushed another finger inside, impatient.
“Sorry, I just-just wanna feel-wanna fuck you, you’re.... I love you.”
He couldn’t stop himself from telling you every other second, adding a third finger, scissoring them inside you a bit too fast for it to be comfortable.
But then they were gone, and he was lining himself up.
“Be gentle-be gentle-!” You cautioned, words cut off with a small gasp as he pushed inside, only half listening.
He was average, definitely not the biggest you’d ever taken, but thick enough to have your eyes fluttering shut with each rock of his hips against your body.
You still had your hands buried in his curls, Izuku lifting his head so he could kiss you on the mouth, wet and warm and hungry for every ounce of affection he could pull from you.
It didn’t take long for him to find his rhythm, thankfully not hammering into you, just thrusting quick and short, barely pulling out before seating himself balls deep again.
And it took even less time for him to start moaning about his impending release.
“Mommy, fuck, you feel amazing, I’m so close.”
You were on the pill, but Izuku knew how much you didn’t like him cumming inside. It felt weird, and you hated the cleanup, and it was just a general mess you’d rather avoid.
“Izu...oh pull-pull out baby, don’t cum inside mommy.”
His eyes fix you with a stern glare, as stern as he can manage after being teased and having his orgasm ruined and teased again until he cried. But then he softened, burying his face into your neck, whining quietly.
“No, no, nuh-uh mommy-y, wanna-wanna cum inside. I wanna cum inside mommy, I’m-I’m gonna cum inside mommy.”
His thrusts faltered, becoming jerky and quick and entirely focused on his own pleasure as little moans and gasps punched out of his throat. “Wanna cum, wanna cum, wanna cum-!” He cried, humping against you like an inexperienced virgin.
His load gushed into you like a flood, and you barely thought to wince before you were bumming yourself, limbs twitching erratically as you rode out the waves burning through your body.
It takes you a few minutes to come down, Izuku’s bigger body draped across your form as he tried to even out his breathing, gulping in air as if he’d just finished a marathon.
You felt irritated at him, that he had cum inside, at how he always bulldozed past what you wanted.
A small part of you knew that this wasn’t.... it wasn’t okay. He was breaking your boundaries, and the unending reliance and worship made it hard for you to tell him no.
It felt good though, having someone tell you that you’re the reason that they woke up every morning. That they couldn’t live without you, how you were their everything, their one and only. He lifted you up, praised you and made you feel wanted and needed.
Your relationship was a pot of water being brought to a boil. You knew it was happening, you knew it wasn’t good, but the water felt warm. The sting of it’s heat was welcome for now, even though you knew that it would end in nothing good.
Even if you wanted to get out, how would you? Izuku kept such a tight grip on you, even now, his arms holding you close, his bodyweight crushing you.
my opinion may differ from yours, but I think there is very little progress in Sam and Dean's relationship in the end.
it looks like a regression. Young Sam, although he could seem a little arrogant to someone, sought to evaluate everything around from a critical point of view: John's behavior, Dean's blind devotion to his father and their family, the family business. Young Sam strove to be independent and separate.
Adult Sam looks at the milestones of family members and thinks: well, they did what they could and who am I to judge them. He struggles to stay in an abnormal, obsessive relationship with his brother. although he accepts that side of himself.
young Dean suffered greatly from a lack of love, from his craving for murder and torture.
An adult Dean accepts his sadistic nature. He easily kills monsters and "villains" and he will never let Sam go because he tells himself yes, I'm an abandoned little boy and I can do what I want.
How Being “Selfless” Taught Me Unhealthy Co-dependence
[Image: A photo of a person with dreadlocks wrapped around their head. They are wearing a silver ankh necklace and a sleeveless brown top. They are holding a pair of pliers and they are sitting in front of a table. Source: yooperann]
It was clear from when was a very young child – and my mother might argue earlier – that I was a deeply sensitive, emotionally intelligent being. My ma has told me about each of her children after childbirth: “With each of you, I looked at both of you and saw these big, soulful eyes that seemed so old and wise.”
The natural-born tenderness was nurtured and tended to carefully, and only seemed to grow as I became more exposed to this complicated world.
My parents would have to pull me away from the television sets as I sat looking, wide-eyed and teary, because the pain of the world devastated me. I watched as Oprah’s guests would speak to the anguish of their lives, and their pain was palpable. Mama would have to comfort me hours after the program concluded.
She would say, “you can’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders,” and that’s exactly how I pictured it – me carrying people on my shoulders and back, seeking to soothe them.
Of course, I don’t think my story and sensitivities are uncommon among the company I keep – queer folks of color, artists, freedom fighters, and healers. Many of us possess the gift (or the curse, depending) of deeply feeling others’ emotions and carrying their hearts as we move through a world already not designed for our survival.
I have read many of Alice Munro’s stories but not all of them. I like to feel some are still waiting for me. A conceit on my part at my age but then again, maybe not. They may be dark yet illuminating presences I will welcome down the uncertain road. As to the ones I’ve read, and, again, it seems important to note every telling quirk, even of readership, given that Munro was so taken with every…
“A codependent person is one who has let another person’s behavior affect him or her, and who is obsessed with controlling that person’s behavior.” ― Melody Beattie
Distancing: The figurative sense of “aloofness”, the same as in stand-offish. Moving away from connection.
Did anyone say relationships are easy? I am working on my ratios, but by my calculations I may be 35% Codependent, 10%…
