When I lived in New York I belonged to a play group with my daughter Emily. I joined the play group so Emily would have a chance to play with other kids, and I could have some adult conversation. One of the playgroup moms had lost a parent just before I moved away from New York to Michigan in 1999. I don’t think I was as sensitive toward her loss as I should have been. I should have reached out more, but I was self absorbed. I think my self centeredness gave the playgroup moms an impetus to push me out of their group. There was good evidence that I wasn’t really wanted. After helping throw baby showers for a few of the moms, I got skipped over when I was pregnant with A.J. No shower was given for me. In the last weeks before we moved, I didn’t find out about events unless I picked up the phone to ask about them. I had been removed from the call list. I remember driving home from the very last play date I attended. It had become painfully clear that I wasn’t welcome. People turned their backs on me as I tried to initiate conversation. I heard two of the moms talk about me behind my back. The way they acted made me cry. It hurt a lot to be pushed away by so many people at the same time.  

If I had been nicer to the playgroup moms things might have been different in the end. Still, I think they carried pushing me away a little too far. I was moving away anyway. It wouldn’t have hurt them to stick with the basic social niceties for the few weeks I had left before we moved away. I know one of the moms was pretty depressed and another one was afraid of a lot of things. For sure, I knew it hurt to lose a parent so it wasn’t surprising that a grieving mom might lash out. If I were them I might backstab me too. I think I understand why they disliked me but it still hurts. This is a memory I'd rather not keep.

If I was less codependent I would have realized that it was time to find a new group of frineds a lot sooner. I really didn't do anything to deserve the extent of this rejection. Still it's my fault that I chose to stick around. It's my fault that I now have these memories. In a sense I allowed them (the memories) to become: to exist. And, these are memories that will always be with me. Now all I can do to control them is to make peace with them and accept them. Today, these bad memories have power over me to the extent that I allow them to. I can choose not to be codependent. I can allow people to have their own feelings without letting their feelings reach inside of me and hurt me. I can accept that I am powerless over how others feel. I can also exercise the power that I do have over my own feelings. My bad memories can become an opportunity for identifying codependency and becoming less codependent. Less codependent means less dependent on what others think about me. Less codependent means more dependent on God's truth about who I am in Him. Less codependent means more freedom from the challenges and difficulties of bad realtionships. Less codependent means peace for me. 

Which of your memories are more powerful: the pleasant ones or the unpleasant ones? What kinds of emotions do these memories bring with them? Can you keep, or discard these memories? What about memories that are attached to bad relationships? Even if you didn't do something to cause a bad memory is it any less painful? Consider identifying codependency in your own relationships. In what ways are you influenced by the feelings and expectations of others? How do your relationships, and your attitudes about them, fit within your spiritual autobiography?