The First Step in Reverse

“We admitted we were powerless over others—that our lives had become unmanageable.”;
—Step One, Co-Dependents Anonymous.

When I first read Step One, I thought it was simply about giving up—surrendering to the chaos I couldn’t seem to stop. It sounded like a white flag. But the more I sat with it, the more I came to see it not as weakness, but as wisdom. Step One is not only a confession—it is a compass, a diagnostic tool, a law of emotional and spiritual gravity.

I began to notice a pattern in my own life. Every time I felt anxious, resentful, exhausted, or
bitterly confused, I had almost always started trying to manage something that wasn’t mine to manage—someone else’s choices, moods, reactions, healing, timing, or consequences.

Eventually, I found myself flipping Step One around in my head. Not just “I am powerless,” but this: If my life is unmanageable, I must be trying to control something—or someone—that doesn’t belong to me. And that’s when the truth hit home.

The Women I Tried to Rescue

That same pattern showed up in nearly every romantic relationship I had before recovery. I
gravitated toward women in crisis—those who were struggling with addiction, abuse, or deep emotional wounds. I saw myself as the healer, the one who would love them into wholeness. But underneath that was a painful truth: I didn’t know how to love myself unless I was saving someone else.

As CoDA literature says:
“We have become so absorbed in others that we have lost sight of ourselves.”
—CoDA Blue Book, page 3.

My life became a revolving door of emotional rescues—and each time the relationship crashed, I would spiral into self-pity and confusion. The reality? I wasn’t being kind. I wasn’t being noble. I was being controlling, and I was addicted to feeling needed.

The Spiritual Law of Step One

Eventually, I came to see Step One as a kind of spiritual law:
If I try to control what is not mine to control, I am promised that my life will become
unmanageable—and likely, miserable.

It’s not a punishment. It’s just the way reality works—like trying to push a river upstream or
hold back the tide with my bare hands. And it applies in every corner of my life.

When I obsess about what my grown children are doing or not doing…
When I rehearse conversations in my head with people who wronged me…
When I get caught up in fixing someone else’s recovery, instead of tending to my own…
That’s when I know I’ve crossed the boundary. I’ve left the serenity of my own life and tried to live someone else’s.

As CoDA reminds me: “We are each responsible for our own lives. No one can take our responsibility away, nor can we carry the responsibility of another.”
—CoDA Blue Book, page 31.

The Turn Toward Healing

Today, when I feel overwhelmed, I pause and ask myself: “What am I trying to control that doesn’t belong to me?” It’s a simple question, but it’s saved me from countless spirals.

The truth is, recovery began for me not when I got stronger, but when I got clearer—when I
stopped trying to hold up the world and started learning how to hold myself. “When I let go of control, I make space for serenity. When I stop managing others, I give myself back to myself.”

That’s the promise of Step One.
That’s where clarity begins.
And that’s where my healing lives.

Byrle S.
05.16.2025