does being a twin make me more co-dependent?

I've gotten a lot of help with my co-dependency from 12 step programs, beginning about 25 years ago. Since I turned 48 this past August, you can see that I have basically grown up with 12 step principles and support. As I've moved along in life, I've tried to "practice these principles" in all areas of my life. And I've done a pretty good job of it regarding work, friendships, even parents and brothers. The one person who continues to hold me "hostage" is my twin sister!

It's just this year that I realized I put my focus on my twin sister. At the age of 47 (!) I finally saw that she is the older sister and I am a middle child. I blend into the background when she's in the room. I watch how she reacts and gauge my behavior accordingly. If she's cranky, I usually cringe and try to avoid her, or to do something that will please her. Her mood can determine mine. Yikes!

This was and is such an important revelation for me. This summer, I tried something new. One day at the pool, she was VERY cranky. Instead of staying away from her, I tried asking her if there was something she needed to vent about since it looked like she was cranky. Her first response was "no" and then the dam burst and she went on for a couple minutes about all these people who weren't doing their jobs, and how things hadn't gone right for her at a store, etc. Then she started to smile and laugh at herself. I was amazed. I helped her change her own mood simply by inviting her to talk and then listening to her without comment (beyond an occasional sympathetic nod and "oh no!"). I felt powerful, let me tell you. I was no longer her victim, I was her friend. More, I was her sister.

This evolution reminded me of how much I still need to be reminded of and practice the principles of detachment and keeping the focus on myself. I remember my first days in 12 step programs.

Initially, I disliked meetings because they were so calm. I was uncomfortable in a space where people talked about taking responsibility for themselves, keeping the focus on themselves and their own recovery. I wanted to talk about all the crazy people who really had a problem!

Gradually, almost by osmosis, I began to understand what people meant when they referred to various diseased behaviors. More important was my growing understanding of why those behaviors weren't adaptive or helpful for me anymore. For example, I remember someone talking about how she used to "read other people's minds" and someone else shared later about how he usedto know what was best for other people and how annoying it was whenthey wouldn't listen to him. The room burst into laughter of identification. I had no idea what was so funny, because I really could read people's minds and really did know what was best for them.

It bothered me that I didn't understand why that a) wasn't true and b) wasn't good for me to think. I thought and thought and listened and talked about it for many weeks, until one day reality dawned on me.

First, I am not psychic and I do not read minds. There is no way I can know what goes on in other people's minds unless they tell me. I can ask what they'rethinking and they may or may not tell me. I simply won't know what'sin someone else's mind until the person tells me. So if I think I know what someone's thinking, I am fantasizing about what I THINK they're thinking. Usually I get it wrong. If I think I know, I need to ask "is this what you're thinking?" and check it out. After I experienced a few times of feeling really humiliated when the other person laughed at me, I stopped doing that and instead started asking "so what do you think about this?" People in the rooms helped me understand what was happening - that humiliation was being transformed into humility.

The second thing I learned was that I don't know what's best for someone else. I learned that in two ways: one, by rebelling against what other people thought was best for me, and two, by having my opinion and advice rejected by other people. I hated that someone thought they knew what I should do, and I grew to love the informal slogan "don't 'should' on yourself." No one else knew what I was thinking, feeling or remembering. Then I was helped by others to apply my feelings to someone else - could it be that other people felt the same way when I offered them my unsolicited andrelatively uninformed advice? Well, I knew how some people felt, because they told me in different ways that I didn't know what I was talking about and they didn't want my advice anyway, they just wanted me to listen and then ask them what they needed from me.

Oh. Simple. Direct. And very difficult.

People in the rooms shared their experience, strength and hope about how they faced and dealt with similar problems. How they learned to take their arms from around the other person and give themselves a hug. How they put the focus on themselves and making themselves whole, rather than focusing on how the other person was or wasn't meeting their emotional, physical or financial needs.

And that's what I've finally learned to do with my sister. To see her as separate from me, possessed of her own feelings, thoughts, memories, situations. To see myself as separate from her, and possessed of lots of skills and tools that I can use to maintain that detachment. With my sister, I detach with love. And the more I detach, the more I can love her.

Wow. I suppose as twinship goes, 48 years isn't too bad as a learning curve. It doesn't matter anyway, as this is not a competition. It's my life and I'm sure glad I realize it now.