Birthdays and Butterflies


It’s my birthday in t-minus 8 hours!!!!

As a grown woman, you would think that I would be over this phenomenon of celebrating my birthday by now. But I challenge that snippity attitude with this question: what categorizes anyone as “grown-up” anyway? I certainly feel no different, and Lord KNOWS I don’t act significantly different. But that’s a discussion for a later time.

I think it is fairly appropriate that I am beginning this blog on the eve of my birthday actually. If you read my bio, you already know that the purpose of this writing exercise is to discover who I am, what makes me “tick” so to speak, and to fall in love with every piece I find along the way (good and bad). So what better day to commit to a new journey than the start of a new year of life?

This introspective examination is going to be especially important for me because I struggle with Codependency. What in the WORLD is that? you may ask… Well the snoozefest definition is this:

noun: codependency; noun: co-dependency
  1. excessive emotional or psychological reliance on a partner, typically a partner who requires support due to an illness or addiction.

That doesn’t quite capture the concept in my opinion. To me, being a codependent is like being a cocoon for a butterfly. Cheeeeeesy I know, but bear with me. A cocoon’s sole purpose in existence is to cater to the caterpillar, to nurture it, shelter it, feed it, and eventually transform it into this marvelous creature for the world to behold. After that transformation is complete, the cocoon is left torn to pieces, broken, and empty.

Now take that concept and transfer it to human relationships. A codependent never thinks of himself or herself; it is always the needs of the other that takes precedence, so much so that one’s own needs disappear entirely. Thus, Codas naturally become suffocating to the objects of their attention, forcing them to walk away, and they are in turn left in shambles. Doesn’t sound like a very pleasant experience does it?
Well take it from personal experience, it is NOT. It is a vicious cycle that is 1) extremely difficult to recognize in yourself and 2) even more difficult to break free of. It is a relationship DESTROYER. But more than that, however, it is slow suicide. And I’m done dying.
It’s my turn to live. And I’m going to do it one day, one experience, one blog at a time.
Wish me luck!
– Freedom

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