
How I stopped swimming in other people’s drama pools
For the longest time, I misunderstood “detachment.” I thought it meant cutting people off or becoming some kind of emotional robot. No feelings, no problems, right? Wrong. What I’ve discovered is that healthy detachment is not about shutting people out, it’s about keeping my heart open without letting it get dragged through every storm that passes by.
For me, healthy detachment is like wearing emotional yoga pants, comfortable, flexible, and just the right fit so I can breathe without feeling squeezed. It allows me to stay close to people I care about without getting swallowed up by their emotions or choices.
Here’s what it looks like in my daily life:
- I don’t jump into everyone’s fires.
When a loved one is in crisis, my old instinct was to grab the hose, the extinguisher, and maybe a bucket of tears for good measure. Now, I remind myself: their fire, their tools. I can cheer them on from the sidewalk without running inside to burn myself. - I listen without carrying.
I still want to be a safe place for people to land. But when I leave the conversation, I try not to pack their pain into my emotional carry-on. My heart is available, but it is not a storage unit. - I trust people to live their own lives.
This one’s hard. My “helping tendencies” love to micromanage. But letting others make choices (even messy ones) is an act of respect. It frees me up to live my own life, and trust me, that takes plenty of energy already. - I step back in hostile situations.
Sometimes the healthiest form of detachment is removing myself completely. A gentle reminder to myself: I don’t have to match anger with anger, or dance the old dance of codependency where I twist myself into knots to calm the other person down. I can choose to exit the situation, breathe, and protect my peace instead.
The beauty of healthy detachment is that it lets me love people without losing myself in their chaos. It’s like standing on the shore while someone else swims. You’re close enough to wave, encourage, and even toss a life preserver if needed, but you’re not treading water right alongside them until you both sink.
At the end of the day, detachment has given me freedom. I get to stay connected, compassionate, and available, without being consumed. And honestly, that’s the kind of balance I didn’t know I needed, but now I can’t live without. Plus, if I’m being honest, I don’t have the stamina to swim in everyone else’s drama pool anymore. I’ve got my own floaties, a lounge chair, and maybe even a fruity drink to enjoy on the shore, and that feels pretty darn good.
Reflection Question:
If you had your own “emotional lounge chair,” what situation would you step back and watch from the shore instead of diving in?
Join me on this blogging challenge. Visit the page and download the PDF. I would love to read your story!
- Week 35 – Blogging Challenge for Codependency Recovery:
- Mindfulness and Recovery: Write about how staying present has impacted you.
- Week 35– Blogging Challenge for Advanced Codependency Recovery:
- The Role of Healthy Detachment in My Life: Reflect on how you stay connected without becoming over-involved.
#CodependencyChallenge2025
Discover more from Journey On Strong
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

I would love to have your feedback!