THOUGHTS MOMS PARENTING TEENS AND ADULT KIDS ARE ASHAMED THEY THINK. “I'M CODEPENDENT ON MY KIDS.” | EP. 192
Welcome to the Almost Empty Nest Podcast, where we moms of teens and college kids reframe what letting go really means to feel more connected, confident, and at peace. I'm your host, Master Coach Jennifer Collins. Have you ever had a thought as a mom and then immediately felt terrible for thinking it? Believe me, you're not alone, and you're truly not a bad mom for thinking it. In this series on the thoughts us moms are ashamed we think, I'm exploring these thoughts and where they're coming from. Because when you shift from judgment to understanding, that's when everything changes. Let's dive in.
Hello, my friend.
Have you ever thought, I'm codependent on my kids? I've actually heard this thought from so many of my clients over the years. And what's interesting is that when they say this, the reasons they give sound so familiar. Like when your mood changes based on how your teen or college kid is doing.
So if they're anxious, you feel anxious. But if they're happy or doing okay, you feel like everything's okay. You might wonder if you're codependent if you find yourself waiting around for your kid to text or call.
Or if you've ever found yourself feeling anxious or stressed until you know your kid is safe. Or that they've made it through something challenging, like midterms or SATs, and they feel good about it. You might wonder if you're codependent if you've ever rearranged your schedule or just not made plans just in case your kid was available to hang out.
But then when they blow you off, you feel strangely hurt. Or just sad that they don't make plans with you anymore. Then there are those times when you feel this urgent need to help fix a problem your big kid is having.
Even though you know intellectually they need to handle it on their own. And maybe even more that there's really nothing you can do to help. You can feel like your sense of happiness or peace feels tied to how connected you are with your kids.
Or how much they connect back with you. And if you're listening to all of this and thinking, yep, that's me. I want you to know me too.
I see myself in so many of these moments. This tie between our emotional well-being and theirs. Or maybe said another way, the way you feel like your emotions are strapped onto a rollercoaster.
Where you're up when your big kid is up and down when they're down. And you're usually not even really sure what to expect hour to hour. Even minute to minute.
And I guess the question I want to explore today is, is this codependency? Is there actually something wrong here? These days we're all trying to be more self-aware and emotionally healthy. And we hear this word everywhere, codependent. And when we do, we hear it described as something unhealthy.
Something we need to watch out for or fix. So when we notice some of these patterns in ourselves, the worry, maybe the over-involvement, the way our moods seem overly connected to our kids' moods, we can start to wonder, is that me? Am I codependent? I actually just got back from parent's weekend with my younger son. And I noticed how quickly I slipped into those old habits.
Over-analyzing what he said. Worrying if he was okay. Trying to fix things he didn't ask me to fix.
I felt so happy to be with him. And at the same time, I could feel this little hum of anxiety. Because I noticed a few things about how he was doing.
Things that maybe weren't going as smoothly as I'd hoped. And it's like that small gap between what's true and what I wish were true for him created this low level of anxiety in me. And my natural reaction was just to want to fix it for him.
Or at least try to make it better. And then I came home and met with a client who had just visited her own college kid. And she shared a very similar experience.
But as she shared it, she told me, And she was sharing this in a way that was intended to be self-reflective. But at the same time, I'm always curious when I hear a client use these labels. Because labels can sometimes be helpful if they give us awareness or a language for what's happening with us.
But more often than not, they're really just judgments. And they blur all of the nuance of what we're feeling into one word that says, This is what's wrong with me. Or maybe even worse, this is who I am.
And I worry that that's exactly what's happening when we say things like, I'm codependent on my kids. When we use that label, what we're usually saying is, I care too much. And that must mean something's wrong with me.
Or I can't let go the way I should. And that means that I'm somehow doing this stage of motherhood wrong. But let's get curious about this.
Is that really what's happening here? Because here's my take. We have spent literal decades being highly attuned to our kids' emotions. We've been attending to their needs and responding to their moods.
Actually responsible for their well-being. But now our kids are growing increasingly independent. But our brains are still wired to respond like they did when they were little.
When they really did need us to do those things and care for their emotional well-being. And I guess my first thought about this is, it makes perfect sense. We as moms are still operating from those same neural pathways, those same thought processes and default ways of reacting, that were literally designed to help us keep our kids alive.
When your baby cried, you didn't stop to think about it and whether or not you'd respond. You just felt their distress in your body and you responded on autopilot. That emotional connection was actually what drove you to comfort them.
And now, even though your baby might be a college kid, that wiring hasn't gone away. So when you feel anxious because your kid is anxious, that's not necessarily dysfunction. I want to offer that it might just be an interesting combination of empathy and habit.
As I said, we're also much more aware of the importance of emotional health. And we hear all of these buzzwords about self-regulation and emotional independence. And it's all interesting, valuable information.
But it also sometimes leads us to turn that awareness in on ourselves in a way that feels self-critical. So instead of recognizing, oh, the way I'm responding to my kid is just a habit I've been practicing for a really long time. We label ourselves thinking, because I'm doing this, I must be codependent.
But essentially, there's something wrong with me. And that thought, I'm codependent, can bring up a lot of shame. Because if suddenly we're not just a mom who's worried or loving or invested in our kids, we're a mom who's doing it wrong.
As our kids grow more independent, we start to wonder, what does it mean if I feel this much? And this is where we can start to feel the shame about our own emotional experience. We judge that maybe we're too attached, or maybe we should have learned to let go by now. We hear people talk about codependency, and it sounds so familiar.
We can jump to pathologizing ourselves. So let's slow down and look at what's really going on here. What we're really saying about where we are in this stage of motherhood is that I don't know how to stop caring this much.
We don't know how to stop feeling the way that we feel. When our kids are anxious or struggling, we still feel it in our bodies. There's this heaviness or ache that feels like it won't go away.
We tell ourselves, I should just let it go. I shouldn't feel this upset about this. But our brains and bodies don't respond to these shoulds.
Science actually backs up this theory that we are wired to be connected to our kids. When our kids are upset, our brains actually react, almost as if we're the ones in danger. The parts of the brain that process emotion, especially empathy and pain, light up when our kids are in pain in the same way they do when we're experiencing those feelings ourselves.
And that's truly because from the time they were babies, our bodies have been wired to respond to their emotions. When they cried, our heart rate went up. When they calmed down, we did too.
And over time, our nervous systems learned to sync with them, basically to feel what they feel. So we could step in and quickly comfort them and give them what they needed. And again, that wiring doesn't just disappear just because they've grown up.
And it's why even now, when they're anxious or struggling, we can still feel that tension in our own bodies. It's not because we're doing something wrong. It's because it's literally how our brains learn to love and protect them.
But there's a big part of us now that wishes we could just turn it off, this emotional connection. Because it can feel exhausting. If something's wrong with our kids, it feels like we can't sleep.
We can't relax. We tell ourselves, I should just let this go. Because that doesn't feel easy, we just pile shame and judgment on ourselves.
I think there's also part of this caring and connection we feel with our kids where letting go of our need to help and protect feels like losing a part of who we are. Being a mom has been a central part of our purpose and identity. We've built our lives around guiding and protecting our kids.
And as they start to need less of that from us, we can wonder, where do I fit in now? How do I connect with them? So much of our connection with our kids for so long really has been about caring for their needs. And if they don't need us for that anymore, how do we connect? What do we even talk about? There are so many layers to this. There's identity and purpose, connection and love.
We've lived into one model of motherhood for so long and now we're being called to redefine it. And we're not really sure what that looks like, or how to let go of the old habits of helping and being involved. Habits which we've associated with love, connection and safety.
Is it really any wonder that it's hard to let this go? I want to offer that the real problem here isn't that we care. Because honestly, we don't want to stop caring. But instead, the problem is that sometimes our caring turns into trying to manage what we can't actually control.
And this isn't because we're trying to be controlling, or that we're needy, or even too attached. It's honestly because we're afraid. We're afraid that if we don't step in, things are going to fall apart.
That our kids might make bad choices, or just miss opportunities in ways that lead to pain or regret. We're afraid that they're going to suffer in ways we feel like we could have prevented. And that somehow if that happens, we'll have failed them.
We want to prevent their pain right now in this moment, but we also want to prevent their future pain. So we're constantly checking in to make sure they're on track. We remind, and we nudge, and we check to make sure that they're going to class and doing their work.
We interview for pain. Asking them questions to see if they're doing okay. We tell ourselves that we should trust them, that they need to figure it out on their own.
But we still feel this pressure to step in and check. And I wonder if the fear underlying all of this is that we don't quite trust that we'll be okay if they're not okay. This is when our empathy for our kids' experience starts to shift into managing outcomes.
It's not that we want to control our kids, but what we'd really like, if we're really honest with ourselves, is a bit of peace and relief from the pain we're experiencing as we watch our kids struggle. That urge to check in and help and fix and try to make your big kid feel better? It is, yes, because you love them. But also, it's an attempt to regulate your own discomfort.
If we're really honest with ourselves, we want them to feel better so we can feel better. And this isn't a judgment. This is just an invitation to explore if this might be true for you.
Now, before I go any further, I think it's worth taking a moment to talk about what we actually mean when we say codependency. And I've intentionally waited to define it. Because I don't think most of us are walking around acting out the kind of classic codependency that shows up in psychology textbooks, where your entire identity revolves around meeting someone else's needs.
In its most traditional sense, codependency describes a relationship where one person's sense of worth and stability depends on taking care of and rescuing or managing someone else, often to the point of neglecting themselves. And it often shows up in relationships where there's addiction or abuse or deep dysfunction, where one person becomes the caretaker and the other the one who needs to be saved. But for moms of teens or young adults, what's happening isn't typically that kind of extreme imbalance.
It's usually something much more subtle and I think very relatable. It's really that our emotional world has been intertwined with our kids for so long that it feels hard to tell where theirs ends and ours begins. So while you might hear the description of traits that are codependent, and you might see yourself doing some of these things, I want to offer that the label of codependency might not be accurate.
Because what we're really experiencing isn't dysfunction, it's love mixed with habit. It's a lifetime of caring deeply, now approaching a stage of life that asks us to love in a new way, with more space and trust, and a different kind of letting go. I think there's a more helpful and potentially less judgmental way to understand what's actually going on, and I call it emotional outsourcing.
Essentially, we're outsourcing our emotional stability to our kids' well-being. Again, that when they're happy, we feel calm. And when they're struggling, we struggle.
Here's the key difference between codependency and emotional outsourcing. When we call ourselves codependent, what we're really saying is something's wrong with me, and I need to fix this attachment. But in contrast, when we're talking about emotional outsourcing, what we're saying to ourself is, nothing's wrong with me, I just haven't learned yet how to separate my peace from my kids' emotions.
I think this shift in language matters, because one offers judgment, and the other offers awareness. And that awareness is what gives us back our power to change. Now, I want to reiterate, just because we might be falling into the trap of emotional outsourcing doesn't mean something's wrong with you.
The reality is, you have been emotionally co-regulating with your kids since the moment they were born. But here's where emotional outsourcing becomes a problem, especially now that our kids are older, because it leaves your sense of peace and well-being completely dependent on circumstances you can't control. When your emotional stability depends on your kid being happy and okay, you're always going to be chasing stability that you don't have the power to create.
The truth of life is that you simply cannot control how your big kid feels. And when your peace depends on what you can't control, you'll never feel at peace for very long. And I think this is one of the biggest reasons this stage of motherhood is so exhausting.
As our kids get older, their emotional lives get more complicated. And so do ours, if we're on the emotional roller coaster with them. Here's the power of becoming aware of this emotional outsourcing.
When you catch yourself waiting for your big kid to feel better so you can feel better, that's the moment you can start reclaiming your emotional power. Because you can't control their emotional experience, but you can learn to stop outsourcing yours. So next time you catch yourself checking your phone to see if they've texted back, or replaying that conversation in your mind that you had with your kid yesterday, or worrying about something that they just said, just stop and notice what's happening in your body.
You might feel that familiar tightness in your chest, or a buzz of anxiety in your head or your stomach. And that's the moment to remind yourself, oh, this isn't about them. This is about me trying to fix my own discomfort.
And you don't have to judge that reaction or try to make it go away, but just simply start to see it. Because every time you notice yourself slipping into emotional outsourcing, every time you recognize that urge to fix or check or worry, you create just enough space to make a different choice. You can take a breath and let your emotions settle before you act.
You can remind yourself, my peace doesn't depend on my kid being okay. My peace actually depends on me learning how to be okay, no matter what's happening for them. That's what it looks like to start reclaiming your emotional power.
Not by cutting yourself off from your kid's emotions, but by learning how to stay grounded in your own. And I know all of this sounds beautiful in theory, but it's not easy work to put into practice. Because learning how to stop outsourcing your emotions takes practice.
It takes awareness and curiosity and compassion for yourself as you learn a new way of being. One where your peace and your confidence come from within you and not from how your kid is doing. And this is exactly the work I do with my clients inside of my Mom 2.0 coaching program.
In this program, we uncover these thought patterns that keep you stuck in worry and frustration or guilt. You learn how to calm your nervous system and understand why you're on that emotional roller coaster. This helps you build your confidence and peace as a mom in this complicated stage of parenting.
You truly don't have to wait for your kid or your life to change before you start feeling better. You can actually create the power to feel better now when you stop outsourcing your emotions to the circumstances of your life or to other people. And this gives you the power to curate your emotional well-being from inside of you.
So if this resonates with you, and if you're ready to step off that emotional roller coaster and feel in control of your emotional experience again, I'd love to invite you to work with me. There's a link in my show notes where you can book a call with me to learn more. My friend, if you've ever caught yourself thinking, I'm too attached, I'm too involved, or maybe I'm codependent, I want you to know that there's nothing wrong with you.
You're a mom who loves your kid deeply, and your brain is simply doing what it's designed to do, to protect and to comfort and to connect. Now this stage of motherhood is inviting you to evolve, to love in a new way, one that might include trusting your kid and yourself a little bit more. Because peace doesn't come from fixing or controlling or knowing your kid is okay.
Peace comes from knowing that you're okay, no matter what. Until next time.
If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love for you to check out my next free masterclass. There's a link in the show notes. You have more power than you think, my friend.
