Baby Bird Syndrome

I recently had an interesting discussion with a man who claims he leans in to damaged women. All would be fine, if I wasn’t damaged. But my damage is a little different, I think. Because I don’t need rescuing.

My lack of short term relationship experience and my not-that-recent-anymore heartbreak would tell you that I’m battered and torn. But my fierce independence and drive to need no one but myself, has made me not only battered but my own hero. I didn’t have someone save me like a lot of baby birds do. I had to save myself.

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Back to this man — I’ve been seeing him now for a few months and I like to think things are going well, however I can’t really read him because when we talk it’s a lot of hypotheticals and what we desire. Never really where he is or what he wants. Recently I learned that vulnerability is hard, but isn’t it for most? I thought so, but I could be wrong.

My question is now this: Am I a baby bird?

I have my shit together. I live alone, have pets, a great job, hobbies, friends, family, my own life and passions. Large & small. But I don’t trust easily, I fall in love too quickly, and I have a huge guard up regarding relationships in general.

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Baby bird syndrome is when someone consistently falls for people who need rescuing. It’s a co-dependent character trait really. They need to be needed.

In the beginning of my last relationship he was the baby bird, no career, no education, no real aspirations — we worked through all of that, I supported him to the fullest extent and then towards the end my life took a wild turn and I became the baby bird. I needed a little extra love and it didn’t work out because he got “tired” of the extra love I needed during a time of complete disarray.

Since, I have heard that he has entered a few baby bird relationships like the one he left, simply because of his need to be needed. As where, I don’t want a project anymore. I helped a man become what he wanted and when it was my time to need help, I asked for too much.

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I came to the conclusion with my thoughts on my own that I am not a baby bird, more like a troubled adolescent pigeon (or dove if my confidence is high that day)

But does this mean he’ll stick around? As always, I’ll write about it.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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