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Yesterday, our guest returned to our home and as we hadn’t crossed paths in several days, we stopped to greet one another. She shared that she was in town for her final divorce hearing. A second marriage over and done. A second chance at love over. She was weepy. We shared with her that we’re both divorced ourselves, tried to encourage her that better days were coming. And then somehow she and I stumbled across our shared co-dependency.

The conversation around the kitchen table was a lot of excited, “me too!,” and “yes, I know what you mean!”

We discussed CoDA, Melody Beattie, life as a recovering co-dependent, and the Law of Attraction. We exchanged phone numbers, and she extended an invitation to me for open contact: “When you’re going crazy, call me and tell me, “I’m going crazy,” and I’ll tell you, “No, you’re not crazy.”

No, you’re not crazy.

I’m not crazy.

I’m codependent, but I am not crazy. Have I done “crazy” things as my codependent behavior spiraled out of control? Yes, I have. But I am not those things I did. I am not the pain that inspired them. I. Am. Not. Crazy.

Our paths crossing was affirming, inspiring, and felt like a very big Godly nudge. Yes, I’m headed in the right direction.

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