Emotional independence: when do we start to depend on others?

  During most of my childhood and teenage years, I was someone who felt perfectly comfortable in my own company. Summers were spent almost entirely alone. Some years, my mother - due to illness - stayed home with my brother and me, but more often than not, I was on my own. My parents would leave early for work and only return in the evening, so I spent long hours alone at home. Even so, I never felt unhappy. I played games on my phone, rewatched episodes of Gravity Falls on TV, and never felt the need to interact with friends. The truth is, I had a great relationship with them during the school year, but once classes ended, I had no problem going months without talking to anyone.
  That independence felt natural to me. I didn’t need anyone to entertain me, to make me feel good, or to validate who I was. But everything changed in 2021. At the time, we were in our second lockdown, and since I had switched classes, I hadn’t yet formed any strong bonds with my new classmates. That’s when I started talking to people from a Portuguese gaming community I was part of. We used Discord, and little by little, I got to know several people. Some I didn’t really connect with, but there was a small group with whom I formed a genuine bond - people I still talk to today and truly consider my friends. Among them was a girl I eventually ended up dating.
  That phase marked a huge shift in how I related to others, especially in the way I connected emotionally. I went from being mostly silent to spending nearly the entire day in calls or chats. We shared everything - games, personal struggles, daily routines. I built new habits, new routines, and without realizing it, I began to depend on that constant contact. It wasn’t just about being around others anymore - it was about needing to be around others.
  Time went by, the relationship ended, and yet the feeling of emotional dependence stuck around. It’s been a year and a half since everything ended, and even though she no longer plays an active role in my life, I can’t say she feels entirely irrelevant either. What’s even more curious is the impact it had on other areas. Whenever I receive a message - from anyone - I feel this near-automatic urge to check and reply, even if I’m in the middle of something I’m passionate about - whether it’s writing my books, updating the blog, or working on other personal goals. Almost without thinking, replying becomes the top priority.
  And so I ask myself: what changed in me? How did I go from someone who could go months without talking to anyone and be perfectly happy, to someone who feels a deep impulse to stay connected all the time?
  I believe the answer lies in how we build emotional habits. In 2021, my social life was transformed. Digital interaction replaced emotional distance, and what once was “I like being alone” became “I don’
t know how to be alone the same way anymore.” The dependence set in subtly - not out of weakness, but out of routine. And like any routine, it’s hard to break.
  Still, I don’t believe that depending on someone is inherently negative. Building deep bonds, trusting, sharing moments and emotions - that’s a fundamental part of life. The problem arises when that dependence starts limiting our freedom, shaping our actions, and defining our sense of well-being. When we can’t be with ourselves without feeling empty - that’s when something needs to be rebalanced.
  The same applies to the grief of a breakup. I’ve asked myself: how long is too long to get over someone? And I’ve come to realize that grief can’t be measured in days, weeks, or months. Everyone experiences it in their own way. And often, what we miss isn’t the person themselves, but the presence, the company, and the emotional space they filled. We end up confusing the feeling with the habit.
  Today, I’m no longer the same person who could spend entire summers without missing anyone - but I’m also not just someone who depends on the messages they receive. I’m in a process - of rebuilding, of relearning, and of reconnecting with myself. I’m trying to rediscover the ease of being alone, without it meaning loneliness. I’m trying to see my projects as a priority again, without feeling guilty for not replying right away.
  Maybe true emotional independence lies exactly there - not in cutting ties, but in knowing our stability doesn’t depend on how fast someone replies. In realizing that it’s possible to love, to share, and even to depend at times - without losing our own center.

And you? Have you ever felt this way? Have you found yourself emotionally dependent on someone without even noticing when it started?