"We appreciate the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve this beauty." ~ Maya Angelou
I have always been a "fixer".
I was happy to fix people's problems.
Someone who feels depressed? Let me fix that by trying to get rid of her pain.
Someone on the wrong path in life? Let me fix it to get you back on the right track.
Someone I like to make unhealthy life choices? Let me fix it so they're happier.
“Repairing” people made me feel good.
I felt needed and purposeful.
I felt like I was making a difference.
But sometimes that led me to be a martyr.
Are you a fixer?
As a fixer, you are most likely an empath. You can put yourself in someone else's shoes and you want to take away the pain he feels because you feel him with him.
As a fixer, you often drop what you do to help someone else.
As a fixer, you often feel guilty when you say no. To "disappoint" someone.
As a fixer, you are often very hard on yourself because you do not help enough, are not good enough, or cannot resolve a perceived problem.
As a fixer, you often attract people who use your heart and willingness to help.
As a fixer, you may have the ability to be a martyr. Healthline defines martyrs as a person who “sacrifices their own needs and desires to do things for others” and sometimes helps others out of obligation or guilt, which leads to resentment, lack of appreciation or anger.
I knew I was living in an unhealthy martyrian mindset when I realized that I refused to "fix" all the time and sit down last. When I started to feel underestimated and unrecognized for the sacrifices I made. When I noticed that I felt guilty for not "fixing" someone and was afraid that if I didn't say yes all the time, they would not love me.
The lesson I learned about fixing is that with trying to fix everyone's problems will not allow the person you want to fix to best version of her growing up. Being a fixer and taking over the pain of others is also emotionally stressful and not beneficial to your mental health and well-being.
I came to this realization at several points in my life; The turning point for me, however, was when I felt completely helpless in a situation.
Many years ago, my sister experienced infidelity in her long-term relationship when she lived in another country.
After I had not lived and been cheated at home, my heart literally broke for her. Knowing the pain she was likely to feel – the insecurities, shame, injury, betrayal, anger, and sadness that pulsed through her blood – felt like it was pulsing through my blood. Knowing too well the pain that came over the coming weeks and months when she put her life back together felt like a dagger in my heart.
And I just wanted it to disappear for them.
But there was nothing I could do to take it away from her.
I was thousands of miles away, and reheating my own experiences of infidelity would not help her or my current relationship.
She had to process it to grow through like so many others, and I literally couldn't fix it.
I felt helpless.
Back then I came across this beautiful story of the butterfly all those years ago. You may have heard a version before, but I kept it because it was so powerful. The page I copied it from is no longer on the internet, so the author is unknown, but it needs to be shared.
Once upon a time there was a young girl playing in her grandmother's garden when she noticed that some butterfly cocoons were getting ready to open.
She watched the first butterfly trying to get out of its house. It struggled and took a long time. When the butterfly got out, it was exhausted. It had to lie on the branch and rest for a while before it could fly. The little girl felt so terrible for the little butterfly that had to go through so much struggle to get out of its little cocoon.
When the little girl saw the second cocoon ready to hatch, she didn't want him to go through what the first butterfly did. So she helped open the cocoon herself and took out the butterfly. She put him on the branch and saved him from the fight. But the second little butterfly died while the first little butterfly that had fought so hard flew to the sky.
Distraught, the little girl ran crying to her grandmother. "What happened? Why did the second butterfly die?" She asked.
Her grandmother explained that butterflies have a liquid in the core of her body, and as they strive to get out of the cocoon, that liquid is forced into the veins of the butterfly wings, where it becomes hard and makes the wings strong. If the butterfly does not push and pull and fight to get out of the cocoon, its wings will not be strong enough to fly and the butterfly will die.
"Without the fight there are no wings," said Grandmother as she stroked her granddaughter's hair. "Just like you, child. You will go through hard times in life. But it's the hard stuff, the struggle that helps you grow and help you fly. "
"But doesn't it hurt?" asked the little girl.
“Sometimes things hurt. Sometimes it gets difficult. But one day everything will be worth it. And you will learn from all your battles – they will teach you to fly!
Struggles make us stronger, they teach us, they strengthen us, they connect us.
Don't take someone's chance to grow by trying to "fix" them or save them from their trials.
Without the fight they would have no wings.
At this point in my life, my view of being a fixer changed.
My sister made it stronger, prettier, and happier than ever, and I didn't do anything to "fix" it.
Although I am still an empath and still feel all feelings, I have accepted and accepted that it is one of the strongest things that I can do when someone experiences their own struggle.
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If you are an eternal fixer, you realize that you can be there for them, as a supportive ear to listen, a shoulder to cry and as a trustworthy proposer … but you must allow them to endure their struggle without taking on all their feelings as if you live it.
In order to relieve their struggle, they are not only burdened, but also slowed down in their growth.
Allow them to fly.
It is one of the best gifts you can give them.
In conclusion, I want you to know from one fixer in remission to the next that this may be difficult for you. Recognizing and realizing that you may have the qualities of a martyr can (and will most likely) catapult you into your own struggle and growth phase.
Saying no to someone you love can often be more difficult for the fixer than for the other person, especially if you are paving the way for unhealthy behavior. But from my professional and personal experience, please know that you can strengthen yourself by letting yourself be strengthened.
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