Blog for
Chris Lauzon - Therapist, LICSW

We are often encouraged to “take the wheel,” to lead, to be independent, to trust no one but ourselves. There is wisdom in that message, especially if your history includes trauma and loss, disappointment, betrayal, or the painful realization that not everyone who offered directions had your destination in mind. But, there is another truth that deserves equal space, it is sometimes OK to be a passenger.

It’s rarely spoken that plainly, of course. More often it arrives dressed differently, polished, casual, or defensive: “You’re in a bad mood.” “You’re overreacting.” “You’re taking that too personally.” “You’re being difficult.” “You’re always such a downer.” These statements show up everywhere, not just in romantic partnerships, but among friends, family members, colleagues, and even passing acquaintances. They often land as conclusions rather than invitations.

Motivation “A” might involve adjusting a sleep schedule, working toward weight loss, reevaluating substance use (cannabis, caffeine, alcohol), improving diet, reconsidering social circles, or intentionally engaging in activities that promote connection rather than isolation. The specifics vary, but the origin is similar: an external pressure, expectation, or consequence prompting movement.

I’ve long held the opinion that when someone adds, “just kidding” or “just joking” after a comment, there is often some percentage of truth tucked within it. Not always, of course sometimes humor is just humor, play is just play. But many times, I’d estimate there’s about 40% truth living behind the curtain of the joke. Humor can be a safe doorway, a way to say something honest without risking full vulnerability. But it can also be a mask that bruises others.

Have you ever looked at your relationship and thought, “We’re both here… but I still feel lost”? Like you’re in the same harbor, but somehow you can’t quite see each other clearly? I call this the Relationship Fog. It’s that hazy place where you still care, still want to be close, but communication feels clumsy, misunderstood, or distant, where you’re trying to navigate connection, yet something old and familiar is steering your wheel instead. Let’s talk about it.

Picture this: an old crosscut hand saw, lying on its back. The flat spine rests against the table, and the jagged edge, the teeth, points upward at an angle. Imagine tracing your finger along those teeth from one end of the saw to the other. It's not a smooth line. It's not soft or easy. It's jagged. Sharp. Uneven. Yet undeniably, the motion is angled up. This, in many ways, is the visual metaphor of our journey through mental health and well-being.

Let’s talk about the very fine line between “loving someone well” and “loving someone out of fear.” It’s a line that gets crossed more often than we realize, sometimes in the name of care, sometimes in the name of connection, and often without us noticing until tension begins to rise or space becomes scarce. If you’ve ever felt smothered in a relationship, or just as importantly, recognized you might be the one doing the smothering—you’re not alone. And it’s worth unpacking.