Chapter 10: When Wounds Begin Feeding Each Other

“For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers...” Ephesians 6:12 (KJV)

Relationships bring two inner worlds together.

Two histories. Two ways of handling fear. Two sets of wounds.

Sometimes my wound meets yours.

One person becomes afraid. The other reacts to their fear. That reaction touches something in the first person, and before long two people aren't responding to what started the conversation anymore. They're responding to each other's wounds.

Two People Can Want the Same Thing and Still Create an Unhealthy Cycle

Maybe both people want love, safety, connection, and understanding, but they learned completely different ways of trying to get there.

One learned: when something feels wrong, move closer. Talk. Ask questions. Fix it.

The other learned: when something feels wrong, create space. Think. Get quiet.

One moves closer. The other moves away. The first feels distance and pursues harder. The second feels pressure and withdraws further.

Now both fears appear confirmed.

See? You're leaving.

See? You're controlling me.

Their wounds have begun feeding each other.

Control Doesn't Always Look the Same

Control can be obvious, but sometimes it looks like disappointment.

A mood changes. Affection disappears. Someone becomes cold, silent, or critical. Everyone learns that things are easier when this person is happy, so they begin adjusting themselves.

Don't upset them. Don't disagree. Keep the peace.

Maybe the person isn't consciously trying to manipulate anyone. Maybe they're deeply insecure themselves. Maybe losing control makes them afraid.

Understanding the wound doesn't make the behavior healthy.

People Pleasing Can Be Control Too

People pleasing often looks kind.

Helpful. Accommodating. Easygoing.

But underneath all that accommodation can be an attempt to control the outcome.

If I do enough, you won't be angry.

If I agree, you won't leave.

If I become what you want, you'll still want me.

The people pleaser may not be trying to control another person maliciously. They're trying to control what happens next because they're afraid.

One person says:

You need to change so I can feel safe.

The other says:

I'll change myself so you'll feel safe with me, and then maybe I'll be safe too.

Neither is free.

Then the Patterns Reinforce Each Other

Disappointment.

Appease.

Withdrawal.

Chase.

Criticism.

Defend.

Anger.

Submit.

Distance.

Pursue.

Again.

Eventually one person thinks, Why can you never just understand what I need?

The other thinks, Nothing I do is ever enough.

And neither one feels safe.

Maybe the better question isn't, Which one of us is healthier?

Maybe it's:

What is fear teaching each of us to do?

One person's wound may come out loudly. Another person's wound may come out quietly. One controls other people. Another controls themselves in an attempt to control another person's response.

Neither pattern represents wholeness.

Both need Christ.

We Don't Have to Label the Person to Recognize the Pattern

We don't need to diagnose a person in order to recognize unhealthy fruit.

We can say:

This behavior is controlling.

This is manipulation.

This pattern isn't safe.

This is fear.

This is dishonesty.

This is people pleasing.

This is overfunctioning.

This is withdrawal being used as punishment.

This is something I cannot continue participating in.

That keeps us focused on truth without reducing an entire human being to a label.

The person isn't the enemy.

That doesn't mean we ignore what they're doing. It means we don't have to dehumanize them in order to address it.

Not Every Thought We Receive Is Truth

Jesus described the devil as “a liar, and the father of it.” John 8:44 (KJV)

Maybe some of the most destructive things we carry began as lies.

You're not enough.

Nobody really wants you.

You're going to be abandoned.

You can't trust anybody.

You have to control this.

If they're disappointed, you did something wrong.

If they don't need you, you don't matter.

Sometimes another wounded person speaks something that agrees with a wound already inside us, and the lie sticks.

Maybe spiritual warfare sometimes looks less dramatic than we expect.

Sometimes the battle is simply:

What am I going to agree with?

If it is true, God can correct me.

If it isn't true, I don't have to carry it.

Sometimes the Cycle Feels Like Love Because It's Familiar

Sometimes what feels familiar can also feel safe, even when it isn't healthy.

Maybe we grew up around people whose moods determined the atmosphere of the home, so we became very good at reading a room.

Who's upset? Is everything okay? What can I do? How can I keep this from becoming worse?

Then later we enter a relationship with someone whose moods require the same kind of attention, and something about it feels strangely normal.

Not necessarily good.

Familiar.

Or maybe we grew up believing love meant rescuing, so someone needing us feels like connection.

God isn't only teaching us what to leave. He's teaching us what healthy love actually feels like.

Healthy Can Feel Uncomfortable at First

Maybe someone communicates clearly, respects our no, doesn't punish us when we disagree, doesn't need us to rescue them, and takes responsibility for their own emotions.

Strangely, that can feel unfamiliar.

Sometimes we confuse emotional intensity with intimacy.

They're not the same thing.

Chaos can create very strong feelings. That doesn't make the connection deep.

And peace can initially feel strange to a heart accustomed to chaos.

Maybe restoration requires enough patience to let healthy become familiar too.

We Can Learn to Tolerate Disappointment

For a people pleaser, someone else's disappointment can feel dangerous.

But their disappointment doesn't automatically mean we've done something wrong.

We can care, listen, and ask whether there's something we need to own. And if there isn't, we don't have to change our answer simply to remove their discomfort.

I understand that you're disappointed.

I care about how this affects you.

And my answer is still no.

That's not cruel.

Sometimes that's what a boundary sounds like when fear is no longer controlling it.

And on the other side, we're allowed to be disappointed too.

But our disappointment doesn't give us permission to make another person pay for it.

We don't have to withdraw affection, become cold, punish with silence, or make the room uncomfortable until they change their mind.

We can say:

I'm disappointed. I need a little time to process that. But I love you. Your no doesn't remove my love.

That's emotional responsibility.

Helping and Rescuing Aren't Always the Same Thing

Sometimes a cycle is built around rescue.

Something goes wrong and we step in, fix it, pay for it, explain it, cover it, solve it, or protect someone from the consequence.

Sometimes rescue is absolutely appropriate. If someone is genuinely unable to help themselves or is in danger, love acts.

But if we're continually doing for someone what they're capable of learning to do themselves, our help may eventually prevent growth.

Helping says: I'll support you while you do what belongs to you.

Rescuing can become: I'll take responsibility so you don't have to.

Scripture says, “Bear ye one another's burdens...” Galatians 6:2 (KJV), and also, “For every man shall bear his own burden.” Galatians 6:5 (KJV).

There are burdens we help each other carry, and there are responsibilities each person must learn to carry themselves.

Wisdom learns the difference.

Overfunctioning Can Hide Our Own Fear

Maybe we're always the one doing more.

Planning. Remembering. Fixing. Initiating. Checking. Making sure.

And eventually we become resentful.

Why do I have to do everything?

Maybe somewhere along the way, we stopped allowing anyone else the opportunity to carry their part.

Perhaps we didn't trust them to do it correctly. Maybe waiting made us anxious. Maybe doing it ourselves felt safer.

Then overfunctioning becomes another form of control.

Am I doing this because it genuinely belongs to me?

Or because letting someone else be responsible makes me uncomfortable?

Breaking a Cycle Can Initially Make Things Feel Worse

When one person changes their part of an established pattern, the relationship may initially become more uncomfortable.

If everyone is accustomed to us saying yes and we begin saying no, someone may become upset.

If we've always chased after withdrawal and suddenly stop chasing, the silence may last longer.

If we've always rescued and begin allowing natural consequences, someone may accuse us of not caring.

That doesn't automatically mean the healing is wrong.

Sometimes a system resists change because everyone learned how to function inside the old pattern.

Another person's discomfort isn't automatic evidence that we need to return to our old role.

We Can Change Without Becoming Hard

Sometimes after recognizing that we've been people pleasing, rescuing, overfunctioning, or tolerating control, we swing the pendulum all the way to the other side.

I'm done caring what anybody thinks.

Not my problem.

Figure it out yourself.

But that's not necessarily healing either.

Restoration doesn't have to turn a people pleaser into someone who no longer considers people. It can turn people pleasing into genuine kindness.

It doesn't have to turn a caregiver into someone who refuses to help. It can turn rescuing into healthy support.

Maybe healing doesn't send us to the opposite end of the pendulum.

It brings us back toward center.

The Cycle Changes When Someone Stops Dancing

Maybe an unhealthy cycle is like a dance.

One person moves and the other automatically responds.

But what happens when one person heals enough to stop taking the next familiar step?

You're disappointed with me.

I care.

But I don't have to abandon myself to make your disappointment disappear.

You're withdrawing.

I don't have to chase you in panic.

You're angry because I said no.

I can remain loving while allowing my no to remain no.

Or maybe we're on the other side.

Someone disagrees with me.

I don't have to punish them with my mood.

Someone says no.

I don't have to experience that as rejection.

Someone disappoints me.

I can communicate instead of controlling.

That's when the dance changes.

Not because we've forced the other person to heal.

Because we no longer need our old step.

We Don't Have to Wait for Someone Else to Heal First

Maybe the other person never changes.

Maybe they do.

Maybe our healing changes the relationship.

Maybe it reveals that the relationship cannot continue in the same form.

But we don't have to wait for another person's healing before we stop participating in what is unhealthy.

God, show me my part.

Not so I can take responsibility for theirs.

So I can become responsible for mine.

Did I chase? Control? Appease? Withdraw? Overfunction? Punish? Rescue? Manipulate through disappointment? Abandon my own needs? Make someone else's emotions my responsibility?

Then:

Heal that in me.

Because the goal isn't proving I was the healthier person in an unhealthy cycle.

The goal is becoming whole enough that I don't need the cycle anymore.

The Lie Can Stop Here

Maybe something was handed to us.

Fear. Shame. Insecurity. Control. A belief that love has to be earned. A belief that conflict means abandonment. A belief that someone's disappointment is dangerous.

Maybe it traveled through generations.

Maybe someone handed it to us because someone handed it to them.

We can understand that. Have compassion. Forgive.

And still decide:

It stops here.

Not the person.

The lie.

God, if this is true, correct me.

If it isn't, help me release it.

Heal what it created inside me.

Heal the person who handed it to me.

Forgive them.

Forgive me for the ways I've handed it forward.

Teach me to receive Your love deeply enough that what comes through me begins looking more like You.

That's restoration.

Not simply identifying where the wound came from.

Not finding someone to blame.

Refusing to keep handing it forward.

“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear...” 1 John 4:18 (KJV)

“We love him, because he first loved us.” 1 John 4:19 (KJV)