I was recently browsing some of the units I completed for my counselling diploma – for revision. The human memory has not evolved to store, organise, categorise and recall all the large amounts of information we collect every day, nor is our memory always accurate. It’s important for counsellors and therapists to keep up to date with new approaches to counselling, and it doesn’t hurt to read over learned materials from college days. I thought I’d provide some learning about Acceptance and Commitment Therapy for readers.
Just to acknowledge the work of others, most of what is written below, I have retrieved and paraphrased from ACCEPTANCE AND COMMITMENT THERAPY Published by: Australian Institute of Professional Counsellors Pty Ltd.
Acceptance and commitment therapy, known as ACT (pronounced as the word ‘act’), is an approach to counselling that was originally developed in the early 1980s by Steven C. Hayes, and became popular in the early 2000’s through Hayes’ collaboration with Kelly G. Wilson, and Kirk Strosahl as well as through the work of Russ Harris. You can look them up on Youtube or Google if you’re interested in what they might have to say about ACT.
“Unlike more traditional cognitive-behaviour therapy (CBT) approaches, ACT does not seek to change the form or frequency of people’s unwanted thoughts and emotions. Rather, the principal goal of ACT is to cultivate psychological flexibility, which refers to the ability to contact the present moment, and based on what the situation affords, to change or persist with behaviour in accordance with one’s personal values. To put it another way, ACT focuses on helping people to live more rewarding lives even in the presence of undesirable thoughts, emotions, and sensations.” (Flaxman, Blackledge & Bond, 2011, p. vii)
ACT interventions tend to focus around two main processes:
Developing acceptance of unwanted private experiences that are outside of personal control.
Commitment and action toward living a valued life (Harris, 2009)
In a nutshell, ACT gets its name from its core ideas of accepting what is outside of your personal control and committing to action that improves and enriches your life.
Cognitive Defusion is the process of learning to detach ourselves from our thought processes and simply observe them for what they are – “transient private events – an ever-changing stream of words, sounds and pictures” (Harris, 2006, p. 6). I think this component of ACT is incredibly beneficial if we practice it daily. I like to say, just like the function of the heart is to pump oxygenated blood around the body, one of the brain’s functions is to have thoughts. We can observe thoughts without taking them to mean more than what they are. Some thoughts are automatic, some are subconscious, and some are unconscious or preconscious beliefs that we consider to be true and factual and “rules” about how the world operates and how we have to operate in it. If someone is defused from their thought processes, these processes do not have control on the person; instead the person is able to simply observe them without getting caught up in them or feel the need to change/control them.
Acceptance is the process of opening oneself up and “making room for unpleasant feelings, sensations, urges, and other private experiences; allowing them to come and go without struggling with them, running from them, or giving them undue attention” (Harris, 2006, p. 7). Practicing acceptance is important because it encourages the individual to develop an ability and willingness to feel uncomfortable without being overwhelmed by it (Flaxman, Blackledge & Bond, 2011). It’s important to acknowledge that to accept something doesn’t mean we like it or have a passive attitude. It is to accept something exactly as it is and then we choose what to do with it. Think of the Serenity Prayer: Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.
Contact with the present moment is the concept of being “psychologically present” and bringing full attention to the “here-and-now” experience (Harris, 2009). I’d also argue that to psychologically present, we must also be aware of our physical body and the sensations within it and outside of it. Because we have the ability to think about the past and about the future, sometimes it can be difficult to stay in the present (Batten, 2011; Harris, 2009). Having contact with the present moment is essential because that it where we find out anchor and power. We have the ability to pay attention in a flexible manner to the present moment and connect with that experience rather than ruminate on past events or future possibilities (Lloyd & Bond, 2015). Some of you might say “What if I can’t stand the present moment?”. True. If you have extreme emotional experiences or have a history of trauma, it may be functional for you to use distraction or talking to someone when the present moment is “too much to take”. What we want to work towards is using healthy coping strategies in the present moment mindfully, instead of behaviours that no longer serve us.
Values, and identifying them, (i.e., what is important to the individual) is a central element of ACT because it assists clients to move in the direction of living and creating a meaningful life. One of the central goals of ACT is to help clients to connect with the things they value most and to travel in “valued directions” (Stoddard & Afari, 2014).
Committed action is the process of taking steps towards one’s values even in the presence of unpleasant thoughts and feelings (Harris, 2009). Behavioural interventions, such as goal setting, exposure, behavioural activation, and skills training, are generally used to create committed action. The ACT model acknowledges that learning is not enough, one must also take action to create change.
Self-as-context, or what I prefer to call “the observing self” or simply just our self-awareness, creates a distinction between the ‘thinking self’ and the ‘observing self’ (Harris, 2009). The thinking self refers to the self that generates thoughts, beliefs, memories, judgments, fantasies, and plans, whereas the observing self is the self that is aware of what we think, feel, sense, or do (Harris, 2009). “From this perspective, you are not your thoughts and feelings; rather, you are the context or arena in which they unfold” (Stoddard & Afari, 2014). Being aware of the observing self allows an individual to have a greater ability to be mindful and in the present moment, as they can separate themselves from the thoughts, beliefs, and memories they have.
Multiple theorists and researchers since Freud have independently converged on the same concept of psychological defences because of the potential utility of the concept.
Alfred Adler, known for emphasising the importance of overcoming feelings of inferiority and gaining a sense of belonging in order to achieve success and happiness, developed a similar idea which he called psychological “safeguarding strategies.”
Karen Horney, who believed that environment and social upbringing, rather than intrinsic factors, largely lead to neurosis, described “protective strategies” used by children of abusive or neglectful parents.
Leon Festinger developed the well-known concept of “cognitive dissonance,” proposing that inconsistency among beliefs or behaviours causes an uncomfortable psychological tension leading people to change one of the inconsistent elements to reduce the dissonance (or to add consonant elements to restore consonance).
Carl Rogers, who was one of the founders of humanistic psychology, known especially for his person-centred psychotherapy, discussed the process of defence as “denial and perceptual distortion”.
Albert Bandura, known for ground-breaking research on learning via observation and social modelling, and the development of social learning theory, conceptualized defences as “self-exoneration mechanisms.”
The influential psychiatrist George Vaillant organized defences on a scale of immature to mature, defining them as “unconscious homeostatic mechanisms that reduce the disorganizing effects of sudden stress.”
Current discussions of coping mechanisms and emotion regulation embody the idea of defences as well. Is a defence mechanism merely a learned internal process manifested in our behaviour to protect us – or our ego – from pain? Is a defence mechanism a merely a coping mechanism to resolve internal stress?
Whatever you believe the answers to be, we can cultivate, learn, and practice adaptive, context-specific and generalised coping strategies that will aid self-development that can improve our health, relationships, self-esteem, workplace performance, and stress management skills.
By Mitchell Webb | Webb Therapy, Surry Hills Sydney
We all have moments in relationships where we give too much, worry too much, or lose ourselves a little in someone else. That is not codependency — that is being human. But when those moments become the architecture of the entire relationship, when your sense of self, your emotional stability, and your very identity become organised around another person’s needs, moods, and wellbeing, something more significant may be at play.
Codependency is one of the most misunderstood and underdiagnosed relational patterns in clinical practice. It is frequently mistaken for love, devotion, or simply being a caring person. Yet the research is consistent: left unaddressed, codependent patterns cause significant harm to both people involved — and they rarely improve on their own.
This article explores what codependency actually is, what the current evidence says about how to identify it, and — critically — what you can do if you recognise yourself in it.
What Is Codependency, Really?
The term “codependency” originated in the addiction treatment field in the 1970s and 1980s, used initially to describe the partners and family members of people with substance use disorders. Clinicians noticed that the people surrounding someone with addiction often developed their own set of dysfunctional patterns — enabling behaviour, emotional enmeshment, a compulsive need to control or fix the other person — that were distinct from, yet deeply intertwined with, the addiction itself.
Over the following decades, the concept broadened. Researchers and clinicians came to understand that codependency was not unique to addiction contexts. It appeared in relationships involving chronic illness, mental health conditions, emotional immaturity, narcissistic traits, and even in ostensibly “normal” relationships where one person had learnt, usually in childhood, that love was conditional on their usefulness or selflessness.
The American Psychological Association (2023) now broadly defines codependency as an emotional and behavioural pattern characterised by excessive reliance on others for approval, identity, and self-worth — typically at the expense of one’s own needs, boundaries, and sense of self.
Mental Health America describes it as a “relationship addiction”: a pattern where people form or maintain relationships that are one-sided, emotionally exhausting, and often damaging — yet feel compelled to stay because their sense of purpose and worth has become fused with the relationship itself.
Importantly, current research frames codependency not as a character flaw or a deliberate choice, but as a learned relational strategy — one that almost always has its roots in early experiences where a child learnt that to be loved, they needed to be needed.
The Difference Between Normal Relationship Behaviour and Codependency
This is perhaps the most important clinical question, and one that causes enormous confusion. Most people, at some point in a relationship, will:
Put their partner’s needs before their own
Worry excessively about someone they love
Suppress their own feelings to keep the peace
Feel their mood affected by their partner’s emotional state
Struggle to maintain boundaries with someone they care about deeply
None of these, in isolation or temporarily, constitute codependency. Relationships involve genuine interdependence — research by Rusbult and Van Lange (2003) in the Annual Review of Psychology demonstrates that healthy mutual reliance is not only normal but essential to human flourishing. We are wired for attachment, and feeling affected by those we love is a feature of that, not a flaw.
The distinction lies in pattern, pervasiveness, proportion, and — critically — motivation.
In healthy relationships, care for another is chosen freely from a stable sense of self. You can be deeply affected by your partner’s pain without feeling responsible for fixing it. You can prioritise their needs without abandoning your own. You can be close without losing the thread of who you are.
In codependent relationships, the dynamic is structurally different. The table below outlines the key distinctions that clinicians look for:
Normal relationship behaviour
Codependent pattern
Motivation for caring
Genuine love and choice
Fear of abandonment or loss of worth
Effect on self-esteem
Stable, internally anchored
Contingent on the other’s approval or neediness
Response to the other’s problem
Concern, support, appropriate limits
Compulsive need to fix, rescue, or control
Boundaries
Flexible, negotiated
Blurred, guilt-laden, or non-existent
Sense of self
Maintained within the relationship
Organised around the relationship
When the other person improves
Genuine joy
Anxiety, loss of purpose, or subtle resistance
That last row is one of the most clinically telling features of codependency. When a codependent person’s partner recovers, stabilises, or no longer needs them in the same way, it can trigger a profound identity crisis — because the caretaking role was not just something they did; it was who they were.
Evidence-Based Signs You May Be in a Codependent Relationship
The following indicators are drawn from validated clinical frameworks, including the work of Darlene Lancer (a leading researcher in codependency treatment), the Codependency Assessment Tool (CAT), and broader attachment and self-determination research.
1. Your emotional state is governed by the other person’s
You feel happy when they are happy, anxious when they are struggling, guilty when they are upset — regardless of whether you had any role in it. Their mood functions as the weather system you live inside. This is clinical enmeshment: a blurring of the emotional boundary between self and other.
2. You feel responsible for managing their emotions
Not just concerned — responsible. You find yourself working to regulate their feelings, prevent their distress, or shield them from the consequences of their behaviour. You walk on eggshells. You rehearse conversations. You adjust yourself to pre-empt their reactions.
3. Your self-worth is tied to being needed or useful
You feel most secure, most loveable, most like “yourself” when the other person is relying on you. When they don’t need you — when they are doing well, managing independently, or connecting with others — you feel vaguely anxious, unsettled, or unnecessary.
4. You have significant difficulty saying no
Not simply a preference for harmony, but a deep fear of what will happen if you assert a need, a limit, or a disagreement. Saying no feels dangerous — not mildly uncomfortable, but genuinely threatening to your sense of safety in the relationship.
5. Your own needs feel unimportant, illegitimate, or too much to ask
You consistently prioritise the other person’s needs, minimise your own, and feel guilty or ashamed for having them at all. Other people’s needs feel urgent and real; yours feel like an inconvenience.
6. You enable behaviour that harms the other person (or you)
You cover for them, make excuses, absorb consequences, or rescue them from situations they need to face. You know, somewhere, that this is not helping — but stopping feels impossible, cruel, or too frightening.
7. The relationship has become your primary source of identity
Outside of this relationship, you are not sure who you are, what you want, or what matters to you. Your social connections, interests, and sense of purpose have narrowed to the point where the relationship has become your whole world.
8. You experience disproportionate fear of the relationship ending
Beyond the normal grief of losing someone important, the prospect of this relationship ending feels like annihilation — as though without it, you would cease to exist in any meaningful sense.
What Causes Codependency? The Evidence
Current research strongly implicates early attachment experiences as the primary driver of codependent patterns. Studies in developmental psychology consistently show that children who grow up in environments characterised by:
Emotional unpredictability or neglect
A parent or caregiver with addiction, mental illness, or chronic instability
Conditional love (affection given in exchange for performance, caretaking, or compliance)
Parentification (being required to manage a parent’s emotional world)
…are significantly more likely to develop the relational strategies we now recognise as codependency. These children learn, at a pre-verbal and deeply embodied level, that love is not unconditional — that it must be earned through service, vigilance, or self-erasure.
Attachment theorists describe this as an anxious or disorganised attachment style: a chronic hypervigilance to the emotional states of others, combined with an unstable or underdeveloped sense of self.
Critically, Mental Health America notes that codependency is a multigenerational pattern — one that is modelled, transmitted, and reinforced across families and generations, often without anyone recognising it for what it is. This is why it so frequently feels normal. To the person in it, it simply feels like love.
How to Navigate a Codependent Relationship: What the Evidence Recommends
Recognising codependency is significant. What comes next matters enormously. The following steps reflect current evidence-based approaches, including schema therapy, attachment-focused therapy, and self-determination theory.
Step 1: Name it without shame
Codependency is not a character defect. It is a survival strategy that once served a purpose. The self-critical spiral of “why can’t I just stop?” is itself part of the pattern — a form of the same self-erasure that drives codependency in the first place. Begin by acknowledging what is true, with as much compassion as you can manage.
Step 2: Seek individual therapy — not couples therapy, at least not first
This is one of the most consistent recommendations in the clinical literature, and one of the most frequently ignored. The instinct in a codependent relationship is to focus on the relationship — to fix the dynamic, to work on “us.” But codependency is fundamentally an individual pattern that predates the current relationship. Individual therapy is the appropriate first step.
Evidence-based modalities with strong outcomes for codependency include:
Schema Therapy: Identifies the early maladaptive schemas (core beliefs about self and relationships) that drive codependent behaviour, and systematically reworks them
Attachment-focused therapy: Addresses the insecure attachment patterns at the root of codependency, building what attachment researchers call “earned security”
Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT): Builds psychological flexibility, value-based action, and a stable sense of self that does not depend on external validation
Dialectical Behaviour Therapy (DBT): Particularly helpful where emotional dysregulation and enmeshment are prominent features
Step 3: Begin the work of differentiation
Differentiation — the developmental process of becoming a distinct self within a close relationship — is at the heart of codependency recovery. In practical terms, this means:
Identifying your own feelings, needs, and values separately from the other person’s
Practising sitting with the other person’s distress without rushing to fix it
Rebuilding connections, interests, and a sense of identity outside the relationship
Gradually practising the expression of needs and limits — starting small, building tolerance
This is not a process of becoming cold or detached. Research on interdependence consistently shows that the more securely differentiated a person is, the more genuinely intimate they can be. As The Bridge to Recovery notes, this is what attachment researchers call the “dependency paradox”: the more safely you can depend on someone, the freer and more authentically connected you become.
Step 4: Address enabling behaviours directly
If the relationship involves someone with an addiction, mental health condition, or chronic instability, the codependent person is almost certainly engaging in enabling — behaviours that, with the best of intentions, prevent the other person from experiencing the natural consequences that might otherwise motivate change.
This is extraordinarily difficult to stop, not because the person doesn’t understand it intellectually, but because it is underpinned by deep anxiety and a terror of what will happen if they don’t intervene. Therapeutic support is usually required to navigate this safely.
Step 5: Consider whether the relationship can become healthy
This is a question that must be held with honesty. Some relationships, with both parties doing meaningful work, can move from codependency toward genuine interdependence. This typically requires both people to be willing to acknowledge the dynamic, engage in individual therapeutic work, and — often — couples therapy once both have established some individual stability.
Other relationships cannot sustain that shift. If the other person has no interest in change, or if the dynamic is also characterised by coercive control, abuse, or sustained exploitation, the most honest clinical recommendation is that the healthiest path forward may be to leave.
This is not a failure. It is, in many cases, the most courageous and self-respecting act available.
Step 6: Build the life you paused
Recovery from codependency is not simply the removal of a problematic pattern. It is the construction of something new: a stable, internally anchored sense of self; relationships characterised by genuine reciprocity; a life in which your own needs, values, and wellbeing are not an afterthought but a foundation.
This takes time. It is not linear. But the research is clear that it is possible — and that the therapeutic work, while challenging, produces lasting and meaningful change.
A Note on Seeking Support in Australia
If you recognise yourself in this article, please know that you are not alone and that effective help is available. A number of pathways are worth considering:
Individual therapy with a psychologist or psychotherapist experienced in attachment, schema, or relational trauma
SANE Australia (sane.org) — mental health support and resources
Beyond Blue (beyondblue.org.au) — resources and access to counselling
Co-Dependents Anonymous (CoDA) Australia — a peer support programme based on the 12-step model, with meetings available nationally and online
The fact that you are asking these questions is already significant. Awareness is where change begins.
Mitchell Webb is a counsellor and psychotherapist based in Surry Hills, Sydney, with a focus on relational patterns, attachment, and identity. Webb Therapy offers individual counselling and psychotherapy for adults navigating complex relationship dynamics.
References
American Psychological Association. (2023). APA Dictionary of Psychology. apa.org
Mental Health America. Codependency. mhanational.org
Rusbult, C. E., & Van Lange, P. A. M. (2003). Interdependence, interaction, and relationships. Annual Review of Psychology, 54(1), 351–375.
Feeney, B. C., & Van Vleet, M. (2010). Growing through attachment: The interplay of attachment and exploration in adulthood. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 27(2), 226–234.
Lancer, D. (2014). Conquering shame and codependency. Hazelden Publishing.
Young, J. E., Klosko, J. S., & Weishaar, M. E. (2003). Schema therapy: A practitioner’s guide. Guilford Press.