It started when I was a child. Back when my parents would forget we even existed during an argument. The shouting, the escalating fight—my parents were more preoccupied with hating each other than with taking care of us. By the time things settled down, I was the one taking care of my sisters. I was the mom for a few days at a time.
And then, it carried over into my friendships. Always the one who’s there to help. Always the one who’d give away her favorite toy or invite lonely people to her birthday party, the one who always said yes to make others happy when, deep down, I wanted to say no.
It continued in my romantic relationships, where I let guys treat me however they wanted if it made them feel better. It wasn’t until I was 30, after several bouts of depression and a diagnosis of GAD (generalized anxiety disorder), that I sought to understand my struggles and paid for therapy. After a year and a half of therapy, I realized: I have savior syndrome! I’m the woman with a big heart, the philanthropist, the woman who sees the good in bad hearts. I’m also the one who, for some reason I don’t understand, attracts people in distress like a magnet. Not just people in distress, but those who, unconsciously, don’t really want to get better and who know that I’ll do anything for them—and often do it for them.
It’s also this syndrome that keeps me from letting Dad step in when dealing with the kids. I’m afraid he’ll make a mistake and “ruin” my kids, or that he’ll jeopardize his relationship with them. So, Mom the Rescuer takes care of everything, and at some point, she collapses from exhaustion and wonders why.
The thing about the “savior” is that the moment she can no longer be there—because it’s her turn to be down—no one helps her get back up. Sometimes she’s even criticized for not being as present as she used to be. In fact, she doesn’t notice the people who do notice and could help her because she’s used to seeing those in distress, not those who can lift her up. It’s as if everyone deserves help except me.
And then, I learned to love myself. I learned to set my boundaries. I learned to say no. I learned that it’s not my job to save the whole world. I learned to let Dad figure things out for himself. I learned to keep “victims” looking for a savior out of my life. I’ve learned to surround myself with strong women who are ready to come to my aid when it’s my turn. I’ve learned to devote my time to the right things and to set priorities. I’ve learned that learning to love yourself and set boundaries—well, that drives some people away from our lives. I’ve learned that I’m not responsible for other people’s feelings. I’ve learned that doing things for others to spare them pain doesn’t help them at all. I’ve learned that there are people who may never be ready to help themselves. In short, I’m slowly letting go of this syndrome that’s harmful to my mental health, and I feel free and light. I finally feel like myself!
Maman Bleue