What We Have Lost in the Name of Not Being Co‑Dependent

Boundaries are having a real moment.

They’re everywhere—on Instagram slides, in therapy-speak, stitched into conversations like punctuation. Protect your peace. Don’t overextend. You don’t owe anyone anything. And while some of this wisdom is long overdue (especially for those of us who learned love meant self‑abandonment and self-betrayal), I can’t help but wonder if, in our rush toward autonomy, we’ve quietly lost something essential.

Community.

Commitment.

The muscle it takes to stay.

Not long ago, I overheard a gay man talking to his friend about a first date. The date had gone well. His date had texted him the next day.

His response?

“I mean, how co‑dependent can you be?”

And I remember thinking, Dude… I think the guy just likes you.

Somewhere along the way, genuine interest got recoded as neediness. Desire became a red flag. Following up became pathology. We’ve gotten so fluent in the language of emotional self‑protection that we’ve forgotten how to recognize connection when it’s standing right in front of us.

Let me be clear: boundaries matter. Deeply.

There is real wisdom in learning how to say no, in stepping away from truly abusive or depleting dynamics, in no longer tolerating harm in the name of love. Many of us had to learn this the hard way.

• But not everyone who makes us uncomfortable is abusive. 
• Not everyone who is an imperfect human is toxic. 
• Not every relational stretch is a violation. 
• Not every ask is a guilt trip. 
• Not every moment of inconvenience is a threat to our nervous system.

What I’m seeing more and more—especially post‑COVID—is how isolation has been normalized and then spiritually and psychologically justified. We had to pull back for safety, and that made sense. But now, avoidance is often dressed up as self‑care. If something feels even remotely uncomfortable, we opt out. If a gathering doesn’t perfectly match our energy, we decline. If a relationship requires effort on a day we’d rather stay home, we label it as “costing us our peace.”

Sometimes, sure. And sometimes… maybe you just need to take a deep breath and show up with big love for your people.

The wisdom of setting boundaries and taking care of yourself has been infused by the good-ol’ American hyper-individualism.  Of course, sometimes, you have to say no to things. Of course, sometimes, you just don’t have the energy. I hope you have people in your life who give you grace and space to do that. AND your relationships will atrophy if you are only engaging in them when you “feel like it.” I might argue that when you don’t feel like it might be the moment you need your people the most. 

We owe each other community.

We owe each other showing up sometimes—even when it’s not your ideal plan, even when it’s awkward, even when you’d rather be in sweatpants with your phone. Relationship has always required friction. That friction isn’t a flaw; it’s how intimacy is formed.

Co‑dependence was never about caring too much.

It was about losing yourself in order to be loved.

There’s a big difference between self-betrayal, shape-shifting, and people pleasing, and staying in the game and allowing yourself to be seen, held, and loved by other people, even when it’s clunky and imperfect. We must use discernment between obligation and devotion, between self‑abandonment and mutual responsibility.

Part of this is about choice. Sometimes, we are in a state of overwhelm and dissociation, and the procedural and automatic reaction is to stay home because it is the easier “choice,” And listen, sometimes staying home is the choice that you need and is rooted in wisdom. What I am inviting here is curiosity as to whether or not it really feels like a choice. OR does it feel like it is the path of least resistance and like your nervous system is forcing you into hibernation? 

We’ve swung so far toward hyper‑independence that we’re forgetting a basic truth: humans are interdependent by design. We regulate each other. We heal in relationship. We grow because someone else sometimes asks more of us than what is convenient.

Yes—set boundaries.

And also stay in the game.

Let people like you.

Let relationships be a little messy.

Let community cost you something now and then.

Because what we owe each other is more than convenience. It’s presence. It’s effort. It’s the willingness to remain human together, even when it would be easier to call it “self-care” and disappear.

A Call to Stay — With Support

If reading this brings up defensiveness, tenderness, or a quiet knowing that you’ve been opting out more than opting in, I want to be clear about something:

Regulating your nervous system is not about training yourself to tolerate more abusive behavior.

It’s about expanding your capacity for choice.

At AVOS, we work with people who are tired of living in reflexive shutdown or chronic self-protection. Together, we build the ability to stay present long enough to discern—Is this actually unsafe, or is this simply uncomfortable? Is this a boundary moment, or a growth edge? We offer both coaching and deeper therapy services to guide you toward less reactivity and more choice.  

When your nervous system has more range, you’re no longer forced into immediate withdrawal, ghosting, or justification disguised as “protecting your peace.” You get to choose how—and whether—you show up.

If you’re longing for deeper connection, more resilient relationships, and a way of being that includes both boundaries and belonging, we’d love to support you.

This is an invitation to stay human, stay relational, and stay in the game—without losing yourself in the process.

Work with our team members here