I’m 34F, and I recently ended a relationship with a man in his late 40s after approximately three months together. It was my first serious relationship, and I’m struggling to make sense of what happened, particularly whether codependency played a role on either side.

When we first met, everything felt incredibly exciting. I was very attracted to him, we had amazing chemistry, went on romantic weekends away, and he was extraordinarily affectionate. He made me feel desired, cherished and loved in ways I hadn’t experienced before.

But things moved extremely quickly. Within weeks, he was calling me the love of his life, talking about marriage, saying he would never leave me, and wanting us to live together. He wanted to spend virtually every day together. At first, I went along with much of this because I enjoyed his affection and was excited about finally experiencing a proper relationship.

Looking back, I think I sometimes matched his emotional intensity even when I wasn’t feeling quite the same way.

Gradually, however, I started losing myself. I stopped spending as much time with friends, neglected some of my hobbies and routines, and spent most of my free time with him.

He seemed perfectly happy with that arrangement. I wasn’t. He also seemed to need constant reassurance and attention. If I was quiet or tired, he would sometimes interpret it as me being distant. If I checked my phone or replied to friends, he could become upset or make sarcastic comments. I eventually became uncomfortable even picking up my phone around him.

On one occasion, I stopped having occasional one-on-one dinners with a male friend because he had expressed discomfort about it. There were also situations where he would suddenly become quiet or moody without explaining what was wrong. I would immediately become anxious, trying to figure out what I’d done.

I started feeling responsible for maintaining his emotional comfort.

I want to stress that he could also be incredibly loving, attentive and generous with affection. That’s part of what made everything so confusing.
The biggest issue eventually became my independence.

I wanted to occasionally spend a weekend away with friends, perhaps once or twice a year, or take a short trip with a female friend. He strongly objected. He said that spending an entire weekend without him made no sense in a serious relationship and that he wouldn’t accept it.

I wasn’t asking for an open relationship, excessive time apart or anything remotely like that. I was committed and faithful. I simply wanted to preserve my friendships and individuality.
We had endless conversations about this, but he seemed to view my desire for independence as incompatible with being a committed partner.
Meanwhile, our conflicts were becoming increasingly distressing.

During one trip, a relatively minor disagreement escalated into hours of silence and a confrontation that left me curled up in bed, crying uncontrollably. The following morning, I remember thinking that I no longer felt emotionally safe with him. After that, I struggled to relax around him. My sexual desire dropped, I felt constantly tense, and I became hypervigilant about his moods and reactions.
What frightened me most was that I didn’t feel able to tell him how deeply he’d hurt me because I was afraid of how he would react.

When we returned home, I tried to explain that we needed to slow down and take a step back. I wasn’t necessarily trying to end the relationship. I was trying to save it. But he became defensive and seemed to interpret my concerns as rejection. I never felt that he truly understood how much the conflicts had affected me.

Eventually, I ended the relationship.

Here’s where I’m struggling:
I know I wasn’t genuinely happy. I know I was becoming smaller, less spontaneous and increasingly anxious. I know I couldn’t have continued living like that. Yet I miss him terribly.

I miss his affection, his voice, his hugs, the physical intimacy, and the everyday routines we developed. I also miss the excitement of the beginning, when everything felt full of possibility.

Sometimes I experience intense regret and wonder whether I gave up too soon, even though whenever I seriously consider going back, I know I don’t want that relationship again. And I’m starting to wonder about my own role in this dynamic.

Was I also behaving codependently by abandoning my routines, trying so hard to keep him happy, monitoring his moods and avoiding conflict?

Did I become responsible for regulating his emotions because I was afraid of upsetting him?

Or is that something that can happen when you’re in a relationship with someone who struggles to tolerate your independence?

I’m also wondering whether other people have experienced a loss of sexual attraction when their partner becomes excessively dependent on them, despite initially finding them very attractive.

I’m not looking to diagnose my ex or portray him as a bad person. I believe he genuinely loved me, and there were many beautiful moments.

I’m just trying to understand how a relationship with so much affection could leave me feeling so anxious, and why I still grieve it even though I don’t want to go back.

'Recovery

How easy it is to blame our problems on others. “Look at what he’s doing.” . . . “Look how long I’ve waited.” . . . “Why doesn’t she call?” . . . “If only he’d change then I’d be happy.” . . .

Often, our accusations are justified. We probably are feeling hurt and frustrated. In those moments, we may begin to believe that the solution to our pain and frustration is getting the other person to do what we want, or having the outcome we desire. But these self-defeating illusions put the power and control of our life in other people’s hands. We call this codependency.

The solution to our pain and frustration, however valid is to acknowledge our own feelings. We feel the anger, the grief; then we let go of the feelings and find peace – within ourselves. We know our happiness isn’t controlled by another person, even though we may have convinced ourselves it is. We call this acceptance.

Then we decide that although we’d like our situation to be different, maybe our life is happening this way for a reason. Maybe there is a higher purpose and plan in play, one that’s better than we could have orchestrated. We call this faith.

Then we decide what we need to do, what is within our power to do to take care of ourselves. That’s called recovery.

It’s easy to point our finger at another, but it’s more rewarding to gently point it at ourselves.

Today, I will live with my pain and frustration by dealing with my own feelings.'

By Melodie Beattie

A lot of us learned to treat other people's moods as information about ourselves. A partner goes quiet, a friend replies with one word, and within seconds there is a story running about what you did wrong. Epictetus makes a point in the Enchiridion that fits this well, that people are disturbed less by what happens than by the judgments they attach to it. So the quiet is the event. "I did something wrong" is the judgment attached to it. Often we never check that judgment, we just act on it by over-explaining, apologizing, or trying to fix their mood. Here is a small practice: check once, then come back. Ask yourself one honest question, "Is there something I actually did that I need to repair?" If yes, repair it plainly. If no, let their mood stay theirs, and do one small thing that is only for you, like a short walk, a cup of tea, or ten minutes of something you enjoy. It will not feel natural at first, because the old habit is fast. The goal is to keep caring about people while keeping your own day from depending on how someone else's looks. If this pattern feels heavy, a therapist who works with codependency can help in ways a post cannot. If you want to share, tell us one small thing you do to come back to yourself.

I posted here a couple days ago asking for advice on how to leave my bf, whose behavior has become dangerous (https://www.reddit.com/r/Codependency/s/AQrKAd38yo). Well, I just sent the break up text (literally 2 mins ago) and blocked him. I am absolutely devastated. I feel like I’m dying. I mis him so so so much.

But I’m also proud of myself. Thank you all for saving me from myself. I don’t think I would’ve done it without you guys. If anyone has advice on surviving the post break up period, lmk. Many thanks, again ❤️

I love the CoDA fellowship and it has helped my wife and I manage the tumultuous relationship with our Borderline adult daughter.

At the same time, I take cannabis edibles to help with anxiety and depression. To be honest, it has kept me from relapse back to opiates and alcohol. Of course it's preferable to be abstinent from all drugs - but right now it is what it is and keeping me from worse things.

It is common for those from AA or NA to find their way to CoDA. For that reason, I keep my weed use to myself knowing how some people scoff at the notion of "Cali-sober"... but I was wondering if there are any others in the room like me.

God bless.

I've always had this habit of saving people. A savior complex, maybe that's what they call it. It's as if the feeling of being needed gave me, more than pleasure, a reason to keep existing.

When he came into my life, he had nothing, but I looked at him thinking there was something I could do. Always seeing people's potential instead of who they really are.

I've always said that my generosity expects nothing in return. But there's a small part of me that hopes for a little gratitude. Maybe if I help him a little more, he'll realize that I'm the only one who's always been by his side.

He needed everything I gave him. Me, on the other hand, he never seemed to need.

It's as if he'd found the exact spot where I was weakest and played with it. He played with the idea of feeling loved, and I played with the feeling of being needed.

Three months were enough for me to stop recognizing the man I'd let into my life and into my home.

I was blind and in love, and I, like a fool, gave him everything.

He got used to receiving it without lifting a finger.

How many times did I ask him if he loved me, even just a little?

He always said I was his pillar, the most important person in his life.

Of course.

It took him five minutes to leave me once his life was finally in order.

And I was left with my hands full of hope, waiting for the day he'd come back desperate, with an "I'm sorry."

But my hands feel heavy, and I don't know where to put all this sadness.

For a long time, I kept asking myself: What mess did you get yourself into? What made you run away, searching for a thousand excuses instead of facing the fact that you didn't love me?

Why did you have to make it so difficult? With hurtful words.

You could have just walked out that door without destroying everything we'd once built.

I don't expect life to turn around and put you in my path again.

I wouldn't know what to say to you.

An "I'm sorry" from you wouldn't be enough.

Physical pain and sleepless nights aren't healed by asking for forgiveness.

I can't wait for those words to come from your mouth.

And don't expect them to come from mine.

It was enough, all that time you pretended to love me while I, blind, waited for you to take me in your arms.

I don't feel anything anymore.

You left me empty.

This time I'll leave the hole where it belongs:
buried deep underground.

I'll leave that chair empty,
a plate served,
with no desire to meet anyone else
who asks for help along my way.

Just kidding.

I am a recovering codependant. I used to have anxious attachment and the fawn trauma response. I've been working on myself a great deal and now I'm a lot more secure in my attachment.

I started working on myself not only due to childhood trauma but also because I have an extreme dismissive avoidant for a partner. I have stopped chasing, begging, pleading and asking for connection. I have given him all the space one can give.

I changed, he hasn't. I'm more securely attached, he remains adamantly avoidant. The healthier I get, the less I am willing to tolerate breadcrumbs and the more I see how unhealthy his pattern is.

He hasn't spoken to me (other than logistics) or touched me for 15 months- after a fight we had 15 months ago where I asked for emotional support and validation.

I thought if I give him space, he might relax his defenses and come back to the relationship. I can't force him to get help.

Anyone else recovering from codependency and realizing their partner is really unhealthy?

The anxiety and the obsessiveness is overwhelming. I feel like I can't focus on myself and I genuinely can't figure out what my wants or needs are until I know I'm in good standing with a certain someone. And I feel like the security I build up quickly erodes and leaves me stuck frozen in fear all over again. I've tried being honest about my emotions. It led to me asking for reassurance over and over again, but it never helps for long. I feel terrible being this codependent and anxiously attached.

How do you find yourself? How do you make yourself care about finding yourself? Even though I want to get better, I just want to be healthy because my codependency hurts the people I care about. I don't know how to look at myself and genuinely want to take care of myself JUST for me. I'm in therapy, but the codependency is agonizing and I'm struggling to take care of myself outside of sessions.

It's really embarrassing admitting how "far gone" I feel. But I want to want to be better. I don't know how to get there. I feel like I keep trying to make myself a second main character in someone else's life, rather than live my own. And it's really unhealthy because when this person acts independently I feel completely dysregulated and lost.

I resent loved ones for doing everything for them and get nothing in return not even decency and it build resentment so I try to hurt them out of resentment and feel guilty after that and I apologise but then apologize also make me resentful and the cycle repeat

I know I need to over sacrificing but I am not able to do that and when I force myself i feel guilty even if I continue eventually I lash out

Resentment and guilt both go hand on hand