[Part 7] Healthy Adulting 101
Relationship Kid Logic: "I'm responsible for how you feel."
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Today, we’re talking about…
Healthy Adulting in Our Relationships
Fast forward to Christmas Day.
You’re at the family gathering. The house smells like cinnamon and roasted turkey. Kids are tearing through wrapping paper.
It’s magical, but you don’t even notice.
You’re not present.
Your mind is spinning. You’re watching your mom’s face to see if she’s upset about what your sister said. You’re calculating whether your dad has had too much to drink. You’re replaying the passive-aggressive comment your brother made an hour ago, wondering if you should pull him aside to “clear the air.”
Your body is in the living room, but your mind is running a 24/7 air traffic control tower for everyone else’s emotions.
And you’re exhausted.
The truth is, many of us don’t go “home” for the holidays. Instead, we go to work as armchair therapists. Spending the whole trip trying to make sure Mom isn’t disappointed. Trying to keep Dad from getting political at dinner. Trying to prevent your siblings from bringing up old wounds.
Trying to hold back the dam of decades of dysfunction for an entire weekend.
It sounds noble in your head:
“If I can just keep everyone happy, we’ll have a nice Christmas.”
“I’m the closest with everyone, so it’s up to me to keep the peace.”
“I need to make sure no one feels left out this year.”
The result? You leave the gathering completely drained. Not because the holidays are inherently exhausting, but because you spent the entire time carrying weight that was never yours to carry. And the worst part? Nobody asked you to do this. You volunteered.
Too many of us fall into this Kid Logic trap in our relationships.
Kid Logic says, “I’m responsible for how you feel.”
We pick it up in childhood.
Maybe you grew up with a parent whose mood ran the household. When Dad was angry, everyone walked on eggshells. When Mom was sad, the whole house felt heavy. You learned early that their emotional state determined your safety.
So you became an emotional diplomat, an expert at keeping the peace.
You learned to read the room. To sense the tension before it exploded. To adjust your behavior to turn the tide. You made yourself small—or funny, or helpful, or self-depricating, or easy going—whatever it took to stabilize the environment.
And you kept doing it… because it worked.
Now, at 25, 35, or 55 years old, you’re still doing it. With your spouse. Your parents. Your friends. Your coworkers. You’re still scanning for danger. Still managing. Still trying to fix everyone’s feelings for them. Still taking more responsibility for their well-being than they do.
Our culture celebrates this.
We call these people “empaths” and “peacemakers” and “the glue that holds the family together.” We praise the person who smooths things over, who keeps everyone comfortable, who sacrifices their own peace for the sake of others.
But let’s be honest.
Is it really for them?
Is it really because you want to help them, or is it because you can’t be okay when someone else isn’t?
I know that might sting, but I say this with compassion because I’ve lived it.
I’m a recovering codependent. It took years of therapy and a commitment to the Twelve Steps to break free from this pattern in my own life. I’m not pointing fingers. I’m looking in the mirror.
Codependency looks like love, but it’s actually self-abandonment.
In a nutshell, it’s the chronic neglect of yourself in order to gain love, validation, or identity through another person.
We lose ourselves. We don’t know what we want anymore because we’ve spent so long managing what they want. We own other people’s problems more than they do. We bend the truth to keep people comfortable. We say “I’m fine” when we’re not.
And over time, we disappear.
So what do healthy relationships actually look like?
I teach my clients that there are 3 types of relationships.
Dependent Relationships
This is the Kid Logic extreme.
It’s entanglement. If you’re sad, I’m sad. If you have a problem, it’s my problem. We’re completely fused together. I don’t know where I end and you begin. This often looks like closeness, but it’s actually codependency.
Independent Relationships
This is the opposite Kid Logic extreme.
This is the Lone Ranger. “I don’t need anybody. I’ll do what I want.” In a marriage, this is where you become roommates. Two people living parallel lives under the same roof. Totally disconnected.
Interdependent Relationships
This is the healthy blend of the two.
I am my own person. You are your own person. I don’t have to fix your problems to love you. We’re connected, but we’re not entangled.
Interdependent relationships are fueled by Adult Wisdom.
Adult Wisdom says, “I give you permission to be exactly who you are.”
I’m not going to try to change you. I’m not going to try to fix you. You can be exactly where you are, and I can care about you without having to carry you.
As you enter the holiday season, here’s what stepping into this Adult Wisdom might look like in your relationships…
Your mom seems disappointed that you’re not staying longer. Instead of extending your trip out of guilt or over-explaining your reasons for leaving, you say, “I’m sorry that’s disappointing. I love you, and I’ll call you next week.”
Your sibling vents to you about another sibling. Instead of getting triangulated into the middle of their conflict, you say, “That sounds tough. Have you talked to him about it directly?”
Your dad starts going off about politics at the dinner table. Instead of jumping in to change the subject or smooth things over, you let the conversation happen. Adults can navigate a disagreement, and you don’t have to protect everyone from discomfort.
Your brother makes a passive-aggressive comment about your job. Instead of replaying it in your head for the next three days, you recognize his comment says more about him than it does about you, and you let it float away instead of weighing you down.
Your aunt starts crying about how the family isn’t as close as it used to be. Instead of trying to make her feel better or brainstorm strategies to fix it, you simply say, “Yeah, change is really hard.” And you let her feel what she feels.
Your Action Item For This Week:
First, notice what you’re already bracing for.
What family dynamics are you already nervous about? What drama are you already trying to mitigate in the back of your mind? Pay attention to the situations you’re mentally rehearsing, the conversations you’re strategizing, the outcomes you’re trying to control before you even walk through the door.
Second, connect it to your Primal Question.
How might the situation you’re dreading answer your Primal Question with a “No”? And what would you normally do in your Scramble to force it back to a “Yes”? Get curious about what’s really driving your anxiety. Odds are, it’s one of The Seven Primal Questions.
Third, stay grounded in your Primal Truth.
Brainstorm ways to practice Self Leadership to meet your own need. Even if the holidays go sideways. Even if Mom is disappointed. Even if Dad says something offensive. Even if your brother is passive-aggressive. You are safe. You are loved. You are enough. No family comment can take that from you.
Fourth, practice releasing control of others.
Let people be exactly where they are without trying to change them. You can be okay even when other people aren’t okay. That’s not cold. That’s healthy adulting.
Rooting for you, friend.
Happy Holidays,
Mike
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This is me!! What a gift to read on Christmas Eve! I need to meditate on this!
The distinction between caring about someone and carrying them is so crucial, yet we confuse it with being a good person. I've noticed how much energy gets burned trying to stabilize other peoples emotional weather instead of just letting them experience their own climate. The air traffic control metaphor is perfect becasue it captures the constant vigilance that feels productive but actually prevents genuine connection. Once I stopped trying to engineer everyones feelings, relationships got way more honest.