True healing doesn’t come from the people who caused the pain.
It comes when you stop looking for closure, validation, or understanding from those who never had the capacity to give it.
Let this be a reminder to reclaim your power—and choose peace on your own terms.
We’ve all done it.
Gone along with something we didn’t believe in.
Put our needs aside to fix someone else’s mess.
Jumped into a problem that wasn’t ours to solve.
And let’s be honest—sometimes, we did it because it made us feel needed.
Valued.
Important.
But here’s the truth: you are not responsible for cleaning up someone else’s willful choices.
When someone makes a bad decision—especially if it’s part of a pattern—and ends up in crisis, it is not your job to bail them out.
And rushing to do so over and over?
That’s not kindness.
That’s co-signing their bullsh*t.
I’ve written before about Emotional Vampires—those who feed off our time, energy, and attention.
And one of the tactics they use is convincing you to validate their chaos.
They want you to:
Validate their story
Co-sign their drama
Confirm their narrative that they’re always the victim
You are not required to be a supporting character in someone else’s self-destructive script.
Yes, we all need help sometimes.
And yes, it’s okay to ask for it.
But there’s a massive difference between someone reaching out for support and someone handing you a flaming mess they created—and expecting you to carry it while they sit back and light another match.
Before I walked this path, I was very familiar with this dynamic—because I was the one doing it.
I would avoid reality, avoid responsibility, and let things spiral until they became unmanageable. Then I’d panic, cry, and call for help.
And when someone came running? I felt a high.
A quick, fleeting sense of love and validation.
But it never lasted.
Because deep down, I knew I had created the crisis.
And I wasn’t learning anything from it—except how to get better at playing the victim.
That cycle drained me. And it wore out the people around me.
I’m grateful I don’t live that way anymore.
And when I see it in others now, I recognize it for what it is:
a trap.
For them—and for me.
Being supportive doesn’t mean sacrificing yourself.
You can help someone—as long as they’re helping themselves.
If they’re taking action, being honest, and working toward change, that’s one thing.
But if they keep coming back with the same drama, expecting you to fix it while they do nothing?
That’s not support.
That’s codependency.
And here’s the hard truth:
Helping someone who isn’t helping themselves doesn’t help anyone.
If they’re repeating the same mistakes…
If they’re ignoring their own well-being…
If they’re draining your energy without ever filling their own cup…
You don’t have to step in.
Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is step back.
Next time someone comes calling, ask yourself:
Are they asking for help—or a savior?
Is this a one-time situation—or a repeated pattern?
Are you working with them—or doing all the heavy lifting yourself?
If the facts don’t add up…
If your energy is being drained…
If your needs are constantly pushed aside for theirs…
That’s your answer.
You were not put on this earth to fix people who have no intention of changing.
You’re here to build and protect a life that’s worth living—and that includes knowing when to say no.
So the next time someone tries to pull you into their storm, remember:
You can love someone and still choose yourself.
You can care deeply and still walk away from the chaos.
Do you have people in your life who always seem to be in crisis?
How often do they turn to you to fix it?
Are you helping—or doing all the work for them?
What toll does that take on you?
Have you been in this dynamic more than once with the same person?
Why do you think it keeps happening?
What would it look like to support someone without sacrificing yourself?
Can you draw that boundary?
What’s one step you can take today to protect your energy and stop co-signing someone else’s drama?
What would choosing yourself look like in this situation?
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one situation where you realized helping someone was actually hurting you—and how did you take your power back?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.
And if you know someone who’s stuck playing the fixer, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.
