Bucking the Tradition

Codependents Anonymous Tradition 9 states:
“CoDA, as such, ought never be organized; but we may create service boards or committees directly responsible to those they serve.”

I read this. And reread it. And again. And again. I listened to the leader share his story and discuss how this Tradition applies to his life.
Still confused. Still trying to make “service boards” applicable to my life and relationships.

Then, I wondered: What if I replaced CoDA with myself? Service boards and committees with the different parts of myself?

Everything changed. The Tradition stopped being traditional and started being radical.

My Being contains a noisy committee of all my versions. There is:

Abandoned Kelly
Tender Kelly
Creative Kelly
Married Kelly
Divorced Kelly
Yogi Kelly
CoDA Kelly
Anxiously-attached Kelly
Carefree Kelly
Stoic Kelly
Empowered Kelly
Defensive Kelly
Manageable Kelly

…and the list could go on and on and on.

On any given day, one of these versions stands up on the table of my life declaring she’s head of the board. She’s loud. All consuming. Ruthless. Determined. Tunnel-visioned.

She sees ya’ll sitting around the table, but she doesn’t want to sit down next to you. That would make her weak, unsafe, and disempowered.

The committee of Me turns into a dictatorship. No longer does my committee serve me while honoring each other. It serves just one version of me at a time.
And lately, that is 100% Abandoned Kelly.

She comes bumbling in and takes her seat at the head of the table. She tries to organize and get all my other versions to believe her desperate cries for safety at all costs.

The thing is, she is totally valid. And sometimes, she’s right. But most of the time, she’s just living in the past. She can’t see anything but abandonment and trauma. She can’t see, hear, and touch a man without going into panic mode.

She makes it her job to keep all my past and present selves safe. And let me tell you: she’s good at it. And at one time, I needed her.

But she’s so good at protecting that she shoves all other versions of Me away and laments when she’s all alone with no committee, no service board, and no support.

She forgot that all versions of Me are worthy of a seat at the table. They are all worthy of being heard. They all get a vote in the group conscience of my life.

Otherwise, Abandoned Kelly will sabotage this Crowded Table.

But somewhere in the distance, she hears the faintest of whispers: “Everyone’s a little broken, and Everyone belongs.” It repeats. And repeats. And repeats.

She steps down.

She lays down her crown of shame and replaces it with a seat at the table. Right next to Tender Kelly who softly holds Abandoned’s hand and says, “Welcome to the Table.”