During this morning’s typical hurried routine on the way to school, my son was rummaging around searching for an item, which is pretty standard for him. I asked him calmly what he was up to, and he responded sharply. Such reactions from him aren’t out of the ordinary in these situations.
I managed to remain composed and centered, aiming to assist him in calming down as well. However, there are times when that composed demeanor slips into excessive overresponsibility.
Codependent tendencies have a sneaky habit of entering through the side entrance. Having been deeply entrenched in codependency in the past, I occasionally revert to familiar patterns—like being the individual who keeps everything steady, who maintains calmness on behalf of others. And when others lose their cool, I immediately conclude that I must have messed up somehow. Perhaps I elevated my voice just a touch. Or maybe my inflection shifted subtly. If there’s a strong reaction, I automatically assume it’s due to my actions.
This pattern perpetuates a longstanding conviction I’ve held since childhood: I am always the one at fault.
Placing My Own Needs Aside to Support Others
My personal requirements inevitably get sidelined. I transform into the emotional stabilizer, the dependable foundation. The person tasked with keeping the entire situation intact. I embody this role without even realizing it, and breaking free from it requires constant, deliberate effort—time and again.
So, when my son lashed out this morning, I met his gaze and stated firmly, “I’m not comfortable with you speaking to me in that manner.”
He countered, “Well, your tone—it rubbed me the wrong way.”
I responded, “My tone was perfectly fine. It’s unacceptable for you to yell at me simply because you misinterpreted a change in my voice.”
He resisted owning his part in it, which is typical for him in those heightened states. I held back any further retort, climbed into the car, and patiently waited as he located whatever he was after.
Once he joined me in the vehicle, he offered, “I’m sorry, Mom.”
And at that juncture, I chose a fresh approach.
Breaking the Cycle of Absorbing Guilt
Previously, my instinct would have been to reply, “I’m sorry as well,” or “You haven’t done anything bad—it was actually my mistake,” or even “No need to fret about it.” Basically, anything to diffuse the tension swiftly. Anything to take on his discomfort myself.
But on this occasion, I refrained from that pattern entirely.
Instead, I replied, “Thank you for expressing that.”
The atmosphere transformed instantly.
There was no lingering sense of guilt or embarrassment between us. Only genuine gratitude—and a deep exhale I hadn’t even noticed I was suppressing. He looked back at me and said, “Thank you for responding that way, Mom.”
He changed in that exchange. I did as well. Though it seemed like a minor interaction, I recognize its profound significance.
The previous evening, I had conducted a brief brainspotting exercise on myself—a therapeutic technique I employ in my practice as a trauma therapist, particularly effective for processing stuck emotions.
The session lasted only around fifteen minutes, yet it prompted a long-awaited internal shift.
Surfacing Deep-Seated Memories and Beliefs
During that time, buried recollections emerged—moments when I pursued affection and strove to prove my worthiness to feel valued or worthy of approval. I operated under the assumption that goodness had to be earned through effort. I recalled instances where others offloaded their shame onto me, and I internalized it completely, without question. I accepted what I already harbored inwardly: the notion that I was inherently flawed.
What I mourned wasn’t the end of those connections. Rather, it was the erosion of my true self.
For years, I had neglected my inner child. Years of overlooking my authentic essence—gentle, compassionate, insightful. In my younger adult life, I never paused to affirm that vulnerable part of myself by saying, “You are the most tender, benevolent, and untainted spirit I’ve ever encountered.” Yet, that evening, I finally voiced it, continuing a practice I’ve embraced more consistently over the last seven years.
Consequently, when my son elevated his voice the following morning, that reclaimed aspect of me—the one I once forsook—remained solidly present.
I refused to crumble under self-doubt. I didn’t second-guess my behavior. I declined to apologize for an action I hadn’t taken.
I held my ground firmly. He had spoken harshly. That stood as the clear, factual truth.
Unlearning Self-Blame and Its Impact on Family
In earlier times, I would have contrived a reason to claim some responsibility, driven by my default mindset of “It has to be my wrongdoing.” Unintentionally, I transmitted this outlook to my children. I demonstrated a habit of self-reproach. I shouldered accountability for matters beyond my control—and they grew accustomed to that dynamic.
Thus, even their apologies carried an emotional weight. A burden of remorse. A shadow of unworthiness. They were reflecting the state of my own emotional system.
Yet this morning, I extended neither blame nor absolution. I provided honesty and acknowledgment.
And that opened the door to a novel dynamic.
This altered reply, this subtle exchange, exemplifies neuroplasticity unfolding in the present moment. The brainspotting from the night prior facilitated an inner transformation. The subsequent day, a novel option became accessible to me. I chose a different path, and that choice yielded a distinct result—one that felt more effortless, unburdened, and authentic.
Forming New Neural Pathways Through Action
This illustrates precisely how fresh neural connections develop—not merely through contemplation of transformation, but via novel behaviors paired with the tangible sensation of variance.
My simple “thank you” fostered a shared space of presence. No participant emerged as the antagonist. No one needed to mend the rift. It was merely two individuals co-regulating their emotions.
Healing doesn’t always demand grand epiphanies. Often, it manifests in a single sincere, anchored instant—opting against apologizing for the nonexistent offense. Uttering “thank you” in place of “I’m sorry.” Remaining loyal to your core self rather than deserting the facet that’s at last secure.
These modest, apparently trivial instances reshape us profoundly. Accumulated over time, they revolutionize our lives entirely.
