Codependency is a Myth, but Attachment Trauma is Real

If you’ve ever been to therapy, or dealt with a loved one who suffers from addiction, you’ve probably heard of the term codependency.

And because you’re probably not going to hear this anywhere else, I’m just going to call it out: The concept of codependency is a myth; it’s nothing but complete and utter bullsh*t.

As humans, we are naturally inclined to care deeply for the people we are connected to. It’s completely normal to feel concerned when our loved ones are struggling with addiction or mental health issues (or anything else for that matter).

It’s also completely normal to have big emotional responses when we’ve experienced trauma or vicarious trauma at the hands of our loved ones.

But, sadly, the term “codependency” has been widely used to pathologize these normal behaviors, often leaving individuals feeling abnormal or diseased.

I remember when Garrett first went to inpatient recovery for sex addiction following his suicide attempt, and his therapist at the recovery center wanted to limit the amount of time he spent talking to me while he was away because I was “codependent” and “needed help”.

Never mind the fact that our relationship was already struggling due to his addiction, and that he was trying really hard to overcome avoidant relationship patterns. Never mind the fact that he had just attempted suicide and cutting him from his support network would lead to further isolation.

Their answer to these problems was for us to detach and fend for ourselves, as if repairing ourselves in a vacuum would do anything to improve our actual lives once he returned home.

Aside from the faulty logic and sh*tty standard of care, their assessment of my ‘codependency’ was also offensive and inappropriate. Not only was I already getting a ton of therapy of my own (5+ sessions per week some weeks), but it was also completely understandable that I’d want to know how my husband was doing after he had just attempted suicide, and was 2 hours away at some strange place with therapists we didn’t know.

And when I questioned their methods of treating him (which were extremely questionable, at best), it was because I was “controlling and codependent”; not because we had spent over $10k to send him there and because I was worried about his well-being.

I couldn’t articulate why at the time, but I knew there was something completely off about this whole dynamic. I had just been through a very traumatic situation, and I was being told that my response was pathological by a team of ‘mental health professionals’ that we had hired to help us.

I was well-aware that I needed help of my own (and I was getting it!), but to act as if I was some “codependent” maniac for worrying about my loved one was just f*cking weird to me.

I firmly believed then, and still believe today that it would be far more concerning for someone to have a complete sense of detachment when their loved one is struggling so severely. Our desires to help and support our loved ones are not a sign of weakness or pathology, but rather a fundamental aspect of human connection. The absence of those responses would be a red flag, to say the least.

The term “codependency” fails to acknowledge the inherent interconnectedness and interdependence of intimate relationships.

We naturally care for those we love and want to support them through difficult times. This doesn’t mean we are diseased or disordered; it means we are compassionate and empathetic.

I’m not denying that many of us in so-called ‘codependent relationships’ may suffer from poor boundaries ( I know I did!). Or that sometimes our attempts to help our loved ones may go awry (Been there, done that!). In many cases, our actions may even become problematic or enabling.

But that doesn’t mean there’s anything inherently wrong with us, and it definitely doesn’t mean we’re diseased, or that someone else’s actions (or inactions) are our fault.

We are not responsible for someone else’s choices, and it’s time for the term ‘codependent’ to die, right alongside the ‘disease model of addiction’ and the term ‘borderline personality disorder’.

To make matters worse, many codependency self-help groups take an extreme approach to the situation, touting ‘detachment’ as the answer to all the problems. But in reality, this just swaps one dysfunctional behavior for another.

A common piece of advice in codependency groups is to “stay in your own lane.” But as Garrett so eloquently puts it, “Stay in my own lane? We’re married and we’re in the same damn car!”

To continue with that same analogy, in some situations it might make sense to opt-out of the car; to decide you don’t want to be in the relationship anymore. That completely makes sense too.

In no way, shape, or form am I suggesting that we owe it to anyone else to support or take care of them. And if you’ve truly been abused, detachment from the abuser is typically the best course of action.

But for us, staying in a relationship with detachment as our primary method of relating simply did not sound healthy or desirable. A relationship based on avoidance and disconnection? No, thanks.

While detachment may be necessary in certain situations, adopting this mindset as a blanket approach to relationships can be detrimental. Relationships thrive on connection, empathy, and support.

Completely detaching from our loved ones can lead to emotional isolation and further exacerbate the challenges they (and we) are facing.

In fact, numerous studies support the notion that having strong social support systems actually increase our odds of healing and improving mental well-being.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m a huge advocate for self awareness and personal development. And those of us who are caretakers or who are struggling with addicted or unwell loved ones typically need help and support just as much as they do. But making sure we get the right support, rather than support that’s shaming, pathologizing, and disconnecting is so, so important.

In reality, many of us who find ourselves in relationships with addicted loved ones or in caretaking roles are simply struggling with insecure attachment styles and poor boundaries. And because attachment styles are learned, they can also be unlearned. I’m proof of that.

As someone with a lifelong anxious attachment style who’s in a relationship with someone who has an anxious avoidant attachment style, it’s been a real challenge at times.

Learning to set boundaries, learning to be vulnerable with ourselves and each other, and leaning into new methods of showing up in our relationship has not been an easy process. But, it hasn’t been an impossible process either.

Insecure attachment is rooted in attachment trauma, which can have far-reaching effects on our emotional well-being and relational patterns.

The good news is that attachment trauma can be addressed and overcome with the right therapeutic approaches…IF both people in a relationship are willing to put in the work.

Even more significantly, research suggests that learning to develop secure attachments can actually have a co-regulating effect on our nervous systems, and our ability to regulate ourselves.

Put simply, learning to securely attach to others also helps us become more secure and grounded in ourselves.

Evidence-based therapies such as Emotionally Focused Therapy (EFT) and Internal Family Systems (IFS) have been proven to be effective in healing attachment wounds and developing more secure and healthy relationships.

Better yet, neither of these therapeutic approaches take a pathologizing approach to ‘codependency’, but instead view attachment as a normal function of relationships, and insecure attachment as an expected function of trauma.

These modalities have literally saved mine and Garrett’s relationship. They’ve empowered us to set boundaries, recognize our own needs, and cultivate a secure attachment.

Five years ago I never would have thought these things were possible.

Understanding that attachment trauma lies at the core of many perceived “diseases” and “disorders,” including addiction and codependency, allows us to shift our focus from blame and pathology towards healing and growth.

After all, as human beings we tend to follow through on who we believe we are. If we lean in to the belief that we’re broken, dysfunctional, and diseased, then that’s exactly who we’ll keep being.

I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather believe that I’m empowered and capable of growth. And, I’d much rather believe in the power of healthy connection.

Read this Related Article: Is Ultra-Independence My Super Power, or a Response to Trauma?