“Wait I literally can’t believe it… I made the bus! I was so late but it was still there and I actually got on!”
Did you need to know that? Probably not. Did my mum need, or even want, to know that? That’s debatable. But that didn’t stop me from calling her anyway.
This is how 90% of my “urgent” phone calls go. Every single time something goes even slightly good (or bad) in my life, I feel this immediate need to tell someone. So best believe my phone is the first thing I’m picking up. And to be honest, I don’t really care whether the receiving person is deeply invested in the story of me catching a bus. They’re going to hear about it regardless.
However, don’t panic. Just because you know me, or meet me once in the Union, does not mean you’ll be subjected to these updates. You have to reach a certain level of hierarchy in my life to experience this gift — or punishment, depending on how you see it. But once you’re in, you’re in. You will know everything.
Now apart from my obvious need to divulge every piece of information, I think it goes deeper. At the root of this, and many of my other behaviours, is something I can proudly announce: I am attached.
And what an amazing thing it is.
Reclaiming ‘Attachment’
Somewhere along the way, ‘attachment’ became a dirty word. We throw it around like an accusation. “You’re too attached.” ‘That’s unhealthy.” “You need to be more independent.” And while independence is important (we’ll get to that), the idea that attachment itself is the problem feels wrong.
Making close connections is one of the most beautiful parts of life. As I’ve mentioned previously, most of us crave connection because of the mere fact we are human — making it not our weakness but our wiring. We are built for relationships: friendships that feel like home, family members who act as support crutches, flatmates who hear every minor inconvenience before you’ve even processed it yourself.
It’s Not Just Poetic, It’s Vital
Research published in the journal ‘Heart’ backs this: it found that a lack of close relationships, and therefore loneliness, significantly increases the risk of heart attack, stroke, and premature death. In other words, connection isn’t just nice to have; it’s necessary. Being attached to people and having people attached to you, keeps us regulated, supported, and protected.
So yes, I am attached to the important people in my life, and I’m proud of that.
The Other Side
But, what’s the other side of the argument?
I think we start to cross into dangerous territory when attachment becomes codependency. Some may say it’s hard to distinguish where attachment ends and codependency begins; some might argue they’re not that different at all. For the sake of this article, I’m going to define codependency in the way I understand it: codependency is when your attachment to someone starts to control your daily life. When their mood dictates yours. When your sense of stability depends entirely on their availability. When you prioritise their life, their feelings, and their needs so far above your own that you slowly disappear in the process.
Having Connection Without Codependency
Now, I’m not saying people won’t affect you. Of course they will. The people we love will make us happy, sad, angry, frustrated — that’s inevitable. But here’s the important part: when someone doesn’t answer the phone, doesn’t listen properly, or is simply too busy, do I spiral?
No.
Am I a little sad? Maybe. Slightly hurt? Sometimes. But the rest of the day is still mine. I know that other people’s actions do not necessarily dictate my worth or are a reflection of myself regardless of who they are. And that’s the difference.
There is always a part of me that cares about myself over anyone else, Not in a selfish way, but in a self-love way. That part of me still prioritises my own wellbeing. If you lose that, you lose yourself.
To avoid slipping into codependency, it’s vital to have parts of your life that are yours. Maybe that’s joining a society without your best friend. Maybe it’s having a hobby you do alone. Maybe it’s living away from home and learning how to handle things without immediately outsourcing every decision. It could be as simple as having goals that exist independently of your relationships.
I will continue to call my mum about buses. I will continue to rush home to tell my friends about the most minor plot twist of my day. I will continue to feel the urgent need to share. Because being attached means I have people. It means I’ve built something worth updating. It means my life is intertwined with others in a way that feels warm rather than isolating. As long as I remember that I am whole on my own, and connect by choice, not dependency, attachment will remain what it was always meant to be: a sign of love.