I was 35, on a visit to Bucharest to see my family. My dad brought me along to a party for a friend — there were over 20 people there that I didn’t know.
I instantly felt a sense of responsibility for everyone at the table having a good time.
And it was then that it became crystal clear to me how inappropriately large this feeling of responsibility was.
It wasn’t my party.
I didn’t know anyone.
I had just arrived from a long flight.
Why couldn’t I just relax and enjoy myself?
I was used to being this way — trying to pay attention to everyone. It was just the first time when it became obvious.
Circumstances made it blatantly obvious that my mind and emotions were not functioning in a way that made sense.
Why would I hold myself responsible for everything around me? Why worry about how everyone is feeling so much?
How we come to perceive the world around us and our role in life depends on our unique sensitivity and our experiences.
It can take a long time for us to become aware of what we carry with us since we were children — habits, perceptions, beliefs and emotions that are related to our childhoods.
A sense of overresponsibility can impact our lives in many different ways:
- Increased stress
- Worry and overthinking
- Trying to control others
- Absorbing other people’s emotions
Awareness is the first step — change can follow only from this.
Understanding what was happening felt a bit surreal — it carried big implications and raised big questions. For how long have I been doing this? Am I doing it ALL the time? Am I doing it with co-workers, bosses and friends? Am I being strange, awkward and inappropriate? Why would I hurt myself in this way?
All sorts of questions were swirling in my mind. I felt a mix of exhilaration and joy — wow, to get to see it, how lucky! — but also confusion. Because this kind of inner impulse was very familiar to me.
I was wearing it a lot of the time. How would I be able to see when it is in action? How would I even know when I am overdoing it?
I had spent most of my life asking myself what my responsibility was in something, feeling like I messed up somewhere somehow. I was petrified of authority. On US highways, sitting in the passenger seat, I wanted to duck when I would see a police car — instead of just warning my husband about it. He didn’t get my alarm because we were not doing anything wrong.
While that moment in Bucharest was life-changing and mind-bending, it also made it clear to me that it would take some work to unpack this. If something feels natural, it is difficult to undo it, even when it feels bad or it ruins your health.
This moment was at the start of a journey of self-discovery that would last many years — one that helped me understand much about the ways in which our childhoods shape our psychology and life — and what we are meant to do as we grow up and leave our childhood behind.
Looking back and deeply into my life, it all made sense.
This was a journey that showed me that there is a way beyond all of it — that I, too, am allowed to enjoy myself and my life without constantly trying to look over my shoulder or into someone else’s soul to try to fix something for them when no one is asking me to.
If you relate to this, recognising it is the first step. Learning to withdraw some of your attention from others, to let go of taking care of everything, can be challenging. Your nervous system and your mind might tell you that you’re doing something wrong — that you need to keep looking over your shoulder.
It takes time to work through this. But every step is satisfying and freeing. Your goal is to move forward, not to be perfect in how you address it.
These habits are formed when we are too young to consciously understand what is happening. Healing is about retraining our behaviour, mind and nervous system — and about releasing the emotions associated with the original events and the pattern.
You are allowed to be present for you in your own life. Without performing for anyone, wondering about what anyone else might think about you, or whether everyone is happy.