Relational Over-Responsibility: When You Feel in Charge of Everyone's Emotions
AKA Codependency
Feeling overly responsible for others’ emotions is something I’ve struggled with my entire life.
For my first decade of existence, I had a single parent who sacrificed everything to make sure I had the best life possible. Because of her having difficulty managing the stress of parenthood and work and all the other things (honestly, who wouldn’t?) with no partner to come home to every day, I learned very early on how to anticipate, soothe and manage my mother’s emotions.
Over time, I felt increased responsibility for fixing her emotions, almost like an expectation. I found different ways to do this, including being a straight A student (one less thing for her to worry about), telling her everything (and I mean everything) about my life (so she wouldn’t have to fill in the gaps herself), and eventually, as I became older, listening to her deepest darkest secrets and offering advice. I was promoted from daughter to confidant and best friend.
Our situation quickly put me in a position to worry about very adult things myself, always anticipating others’ needs as a way to soothe myself and, in my baby brain, maintain attachment (“Mom’s all I have left, and I can’t lose her. I have to make sure she’s happy”).
When it Becomes a Problem
How often do you jump to “fix” someone else’s emotions rather than simply listen and allow them to feel?
Maybe you’re really good at identifying when something’s slightly different - your friend’s change in tone, or your partner’s sudden quiet demeanor- and you make it your mission to figure out what you did wrong to cause this so you can patch things up and move on (spoiler: oftentimes it really has nothing to do with you).
Or maybe you avoid speaking your mind or setting boundaries because “it might upset someone”.
The problem is, assuming responsibility for someone else’s emotions often drives a wedge between you and the other person.
We all know how it feels when someone jumps in to fix or tell us what we “should do” when we just wanted a listening ear. It leads to feelings of being misunderstood or unheard (“they really don’t get it”).
Relational over-responsibility robs someone else of experiencing their own emotions and figuring it out for themselves.
Sometimes, we just need to feel sad (mad, angry, etc) for a while. That’s okay, we don’t have to run from those feelings because they make us feel uncomfortable.
And it’s not our job to rescue others from them, either.
The Rescue
Relational over-responsibility doesn’t just show up in emotions. It shows up every time you clean up someone else’s mess (and feel resentful they don’t do it themselves), or every time you enable a problematic behavior (i.e. always lending a friend money when they just can’t seem to pay their bills on time).
The truth is, people are entitled to their emotions.
They’re also entitled to manage their own consequences, and clean up their own messes.
This rescuing behavior we do implies the person we are rescuing is helpless.
They’re not.
But this is a cycle. The more you rescue, the more someone learns you’ll do it again. Then it becomes an expectation. This builds resentment and eats away at any real chance for emotional intimacy.
And how exhausting it is to go around in the world believing no one can take care of themselves.
To always give, and never receive.
So, I challenge you to identify where you experience relational over-responsibility. Where could you step back, even just a little bit? (i.e., “It seems like I’m the one planning all the dates lately. Can you be in charge of some from now on?” or, simply listening and validating when someone is venting to you, “Wow, I don’t know what I’d do in that situation. That sounds really tough” rather than “You know what you should do…”).
See what comes up for you.
Reflection Section
What do you get out of being relationally over-responsible?
My belief is that we typically don’t do something unless it serves us in some way. Mine was, if I soothed my mom and listened to her every problem without interjection, I got to avoid the uncomfortable feelings of setting a boundary and possibly hurting her feelings (and risk her pulling away). I got to be seen as the perfect daughter. But that’s all I’m meant to be in that relationship - a daughter. Not a therapist, not a BFF, and not a perfect golden child.
Journal Prompt:
How has being relationally over-responsible served me in the past? How has it hurt me?
If this was helpful, share it with someone you love. Reply and tell me what resonated - I’d love to hear from you!
Remember: This publication is for educational purposes and is not therapy. Reading this does not establish a therapeutic relationship.