There was something about that interaction that stuck with me longer than I expected. A girl I’d connected with — someone who had read all my blogs — had a strange, offbeat dynamic with me when we spoke in person. I went outside to talk with her, and what I felt in the moment was subtle but uncomfortable. She seemed dismissive. Not unkind, but distant. And something about it just wouldn’t leave me alone.

At first, I tried to let it go. I’ve been moving away from over-theorizing lately, trying to trust my emotional experience without jumping into analysis. But something about this one kept gnawing at me. And in therapy, the clarity finally landed.

She had put me in a role.

Unconsciously, maybe — but it was there. Because she’d read so much of what I’d written, there was a sense that I held some kind of authority. And when she approached me, it didn’t feel like a grounded adult-to-adult exchange. It felt like she wanted something from me. Some care. Some reassurance. Some unconscious parenting.

And I didn’t want to give it.

Not because I’m unkind. But because I’ve played that role before — far too many times.

1. Where else in my life have I been unconsciously placed in the ‘nurturing parent’ role?

The dynamic with her echoed the same one I experienced with my ex-partner. And before that, with my mother. Both had a tendency to collapse into helplessness — to pull me into emotional labour that wasn’t mine to carry. To expect me to fix something in them without ever saying it out loud.

Over time, I became fluent in rescuing. In emotional containment. In holding space that drained me.

That’s why this moment stuck. It triggered that same old loop — and for the first time in a while, I noticed it in real time.

2. What happens inside me when I feel someone wants to be rescued by me — emotionally or otherwise?

I feel anger. A kind of psychic resistance. Exhaustion. Like I’m being pulled into something that looks like connection, but is actually entanglement.

It’s subtle — not dramatic or overt — but I feel it in my nervous system. I feel the old urge to be helpful, to support, to “be good.” But I also feel the healthy part of me now saying: No. This isn’t mine to hold.

3. How do I protect my boundaries while still being empathetic — without collapsing into old rescuer roles?

The key is clarity and presence. I don’t need to overexplain. I don’t need to fix. I can stay in Adult mode — in Transactional Analysis terms — and not get pulled into Parent or Child roles.

This time, I did that.
I stayed grounded. I didn’t overextend.
And even though I felt unresolved about the interaction for a while, I never compromised who I am now to appease the dynamic.

That’s growth.

4. Can I continue honouring what I feel first, before overlaying theory — and then use theory as a supportive lens rather than a primary one?

Yes. This experience confirmed that.

I felt the discomfort first.
I sat with it.
I tried not to label it prematurely.
And then, when the theory came in — the Parent/Child/Adult framework — it didn’t explain it away, it simply named what I already knew deep down.

That’s the order I want to work in now.
Felt sense first.
Then language.
Not the other way around.

Final Thought:

What I’m learning is that not every emotional tangle needs to be solved with effort. Some of them just need to be seen clearly. Once I named the role I was being cast in, everything loosened.

I don’t need to play the rescuer anymore.
I don’t need to prove I’m kind by abandoning myself.
I can let people carry their own discomfort.

And I can walk away with peace.