For most of my life, I've always wanted to lose that last ten pounds (although after a year of COVID, that number has increased to fifteen!). And I suspect you too have a certain number in mind of how much you'd like to shed. And whether it's showing up on your thighs or mid-section, that extra weight is palpable and tangible. We see it when we look in the mirror, and we feel how it restricts us.

You may be one of the lucky ones who doesn't have a problem with physical weight gain, but there's not one of us who doesn't carry some form of psychological weight. And although you can't see it and touch it in the same way you can grab your belly fat, it's just as heavy and restrictive.

Co-dependency is one of those weights I've been carrying on my back for most of my life. It's a word we hear a lot these days and it's typically applied to relationships. But I've come see how it's playing out in all areas of my life, especially in my business. How we do one thing is how we do everything! But let's first be clear what it is: Here's a great definition:

Codependency is a dysfunctional boundary pattern in which you are overly invested in the feeling states and outcomes of other people, to the detriment of your own life or self-care. It's when you have an urgency to help, fix or correct the person's situation even though it may not serve you.

As I look back on my relationships, I can see that I've always been overly invested in making other people feel good to the detriment of my own situation. I'm a classic peace-keeper and people-pleaser who has always avoided and run away from conflict.

For example, growing up I would always play down my achievements at school - winning essay competitions or getting straight A's - because I quickly caught-on that my friends would accuse me of being stuck up, full of myself, and above them (their words!). And so I learned very early in life that doing well would make other people jealous of me and cost me my (so-called) friends! I innocently made up a story that excelling and achieving meant that I would be unloved and friendless.