Co-dependents are rescuers.

My personal rescuing method of choice was in the form of picking the runt of the litter. By bestowing my love and attention on the runt, the one everyone else over looked, I was validating her worth.

Case in point: As a child I wanted a puppy. After receiving the typical responsibility lecture that parents feel bound to give, my mom and dad gave in. We visited a local farm that was selling puppies. As we walked into the barn, several happy, bouncing puppies greeted me. I noticed several other families playing with the puppies, carefully choosing the one they would take home.

My radar, however, zeroed in on one particular puppy cowering against the wall. She had a scratch on her nose and she was significantly smaller than the others, indicating that her time at the feeding bowl had been limited. I could just picture her trying to eat as the other fatter, stronger puppies pushed her aside as they gobbled up more than their fare share. My heart went out to her.

I went over and picked her up. She shook in my arms. “I want this one,” I announced. My mom and dad looked at each other. “Are you sure?” they asked. “Wouldn’t you like one of the healthier ones?”

Their response only added to my resolve. “No. Lots of people want the others. No one wants this one. I want her.”

And thus began my life of co-dependency. You can call it kindness, generosity, a sensitive loving heart, but it was co-dependency in the making.

In junior high, as Valentine’s Day approached, I knew what was going to happen. The popular kids would exchange valentines with each other to preserve their elevated spot in the pecking order. Unpopular kids would give valentines to the popular kids in their effort to elevate their spot in the pecking order. Unpopular kids would receive no valentines because no one cared if they were in the pecking order or not. The whole thing disgusted me. So I decided to do something to even things out a bit.

I purchased two types of valentines that year. One box contained your usual greetings. The other more expensive box contained valentines with the usual greeting but with attached lolly pops. Then I carefully addressed each envelope, the plain valentines going to the popular kids and the lolly pop endowed valentines to the unpopular kids. I knew my action would upset the status quo, but I didn’t care. I was a rebel at heart, albeit a kind one.

I passed out my valentines, getting the expected response. The less popular kids were delighted. I can still see the looks on their faces! The popular kids were confused. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Who would dare do such a thing? Certainly not the quiet, shy Diane!

What they didn’t know about me was that “I’m a December girl. I was born with my heart on my sleeve, a fire in my soul, and a mouth I can’t control.” I read this on a tee shirt this past year and loved it. This is totally me.

The only difference is, back then I did control my mouth. I was a good girl and kept all my bad thoughts to myself. But you better believe they’ve been there all along! These days my mouth gets away from me sometimes, but I try to control it while still being authentic and forthright. I say what I think needs to be said but in an appropriate way. At least that’s the plan.

What I didn’t realize back then was that I was practicing reverse discrimination. To have been totally non-discriminatory, I would have given the same valentines to everyone. What I attempted to do was even the score. Bring down the popular kids and elevate the less popular. That is still discrimination, just the opposite of the norm.

So, why did I do it? There’s a payoff in co-dependency. You feel good about yourself; you feel like you’re making a difference. The difference between co-dependency and just plain having a kind heart is the need factor.

A kind person will do something just for the act itself. Help an old lady across the street, that type of thing. No payoff. Just do a good deed, no thanks necessary, and get on with your life. Or, giving a generous gift, anonymously.

The co-dependent will do the same good deed, but her motivation is for what she gets in return. She’ll help the little old lady across the street, then look around to see if anyone noticed. She needs this attention, this validation that she is worthy. It’s as if we give what we need, in an attempt to fill our own unmet needs.

After high school, my co-dependent heart went to college where I encountered more injustice. In my freshman year, I became part of a group that just hung around together. Guys and girls, freshmen and seniors alike. It was an awesome group. No expectations or drama or games. Just pure enjoyment of sharing adventures. We would often go to John Bryan State Park. Sometimes only a few would go, other times the whole crew. Regardless of how many attended, we always had fun.

In that group was a handsome young man, a junior, who was a little on the quiet side until you got to know him. He was very intelligent but not arrogant. It was easy to be around him. One day this junior dared to ask a popular senior out on a date. She said no.

I was so outraged by this injustice, this sign that she thought she was superior and he beneath her, that I started paying special attention to him to even the score. Teach her a lesson! Show her what she was missing! I’d show her and the whole world how worthy this young man truly was! And when he asked me out on a date, I accepted. Not because I really wanted to go out with him, but to prove there was nothing wrong with him. He really was a nice guy and I liked him a lot. I just didn’t like him in that way. But my co-dependent heart didn’t know the difference. The payoff I received was that I felt good about myself. I was elevating this young man’s status from being rejected to being accepted and appreciated.

What I know now that I didn’t know then was, this young man did not need rescuing. He took the rejection better than I took his rejection. He was fine. I was the one who was in an uproar.

What about my other relationships? Pretty much the same MO. I was attracted to those whom I perceived as needing my validation of their worth, thereby validating my own.

Therefore I went through my adult life both looking for those to rescue and those who would rescue me, since that was my underlying need.

It’s been eight years since my last divorce and I’m determined to do it differently this time. That’s why I didn’t jump into dating right away like I did after my first divorce. I knew there was something about me that made me choose good men who were not right for me. It’s taken me eight years to come to the place where I feel I am finally ready for a healthy relationship.

I’m looking for my soulmate. That one guy, although not perfect, is perfect for me and I, albeit far from perfect, is perfect for him. I still believe in fairy tales and I still believe in Prince Charming. Although, at the tender age of 60, my prince will most likely look like a frog to the rest of the world. Potbelly, receding hairline, you get the picture. He’ll probably have a lot of hair on his face to compensate for what’s no longer on his head. Men do that. I don’t know why.

That’s where I am in my life and he will be too, so I’m OK with that. I’m after relationship. Connection. Companionship. A feeling of safety and comfort in his presence. A warm feeling inside just thinking about him. That’s what I want these days.

I don’t need a rescuer, and I no longer need to rescue. God is my rescuer and as such, I am now able to freely give out of the pure desire to give, without attached motives.

My soulmate, that perfect guy for me, will be my companion through the coming years, one who will bring a smile to my lips and a flutter to my heart. We’ll be that old couple on the beach, holding hands, looking tenderly into each other’s eyes. While others will most likely look at us and say, “Aww, what a sweet old couple,” I won’t even notice because their attention and validation are no longer important to me.

That’s when I’ll know, I am co-dependent no more!