Do you usually catch yourself in a pattern where you’re continually trying to fix others, advising them, or jumping in to fix someone else’s issue even if they didn’t request it? Perhaps you even take pride in being the go-to person, but most of the time you’re secretly drained, resentful, or confused as to why your help always receives gratitude, do you start to feel obligated to do so, in the process of it?
If that feels familiar, you may be working from what the field of psychology would refer to as the Rescuer Mindset. At its surface, it can look like compassion or altruism, but something deeper is at play because you might be following cognitive and behavioural patterns unknowingly. Let’s examine what’s truly motivating this need to “fix” others and why it isn’t always as beneficial as it appears.
Do we end up following a pattern in which we help others in a way that would’ve helped us unconsciously?
We all have someone in our lives who’s always there for everyone else. The friend who appears at 3 a.m., the co-worker who covers for everyone without being asked, the individual who dispenses advice like a shrink but never shares anything personal themselves. Perhaps that individual might be you. On the surface, it appears to be generosity, Empathy, being a “good person.” But behind that perpetual reaching out, that relentless giving, we sometimes help others in the very way we hope someone will help us. And more often than not, we’re not even aware of it.
The Mirror, We might not know, We Hold
It begins quietly. You feel that someone is hurting, lost, and drowning. Also, you would like to soothe it. You bring gentle words, profound understanding, and a warm presence. But if you take a moment and think through it, you may discover you’re not talking to them alone, it might be that you’re talking to the unknown aspect of yourself. Sometimes, when we comfort someone else’s sorrow, we tend to repeat what we most wish to hear when we’re down. When we assist another to make sense of their turmoil, we’re often attempting to create order out of our own. When we urge another to be gentler with themselves, we’re reminding a soft inner voice, you, too, don’t forget.
Why It Feels Safer to Help Than to Heal
Healing requires vulnerability. It involves calling out your needs. Suffering in discomfort. Believing someone else will hold space for you. That’s frightening for many of us. Not because we don’t want to heal, but because we’ve been disappointed in the past. Perhaps our pleas for help were previously answered with silence, shame, or ridicule. So we revert to helping as a safer course. It allows us to remain in control. It allows us to feel useful. And it gets us the connection we seek, without risking exposure of our own vulnerability. But eventually, this routine begins to exhaust us.
The Quiet Exhaustion
The more we give and don’t get back, the more hollowed out we begin to feel. We become annoyed when others don’t reciprocate. Also, we quietly question why nobody checks in on us like we check in on them. We start to resent the very ones we used to feel good about helping. The exhaustion always ends with us questioning, “What if I gave myself the things I’m always giving to others?”
Read More: Why boundaries are not Selfish
Turning the Help Inward
It sounds simple. But it’s not. If you’ve spent years defining your worth by how helpful you are, learning to care for yourself might feel selfish at first. Or awkward. Or downright impossible. But slowly, moment by moment, you begin to mirror your compassion back to yourself. When you’re anxious, you offer yourself the grounding words you’d say to a friend. Also, when you hurt, you resist distraction and remain with tenderness. When you’re feeling overwhelmed, you don’t push through, you ask: What do I need in this moment? This doesn’t mean you don’t serve others. It means you serve from abundance, not scarcity..
Read More: Virtue of Healthy Selfishness: Nurturing Self-care in a Balanced Way
The Good Intentions That Go Too Far
Assisting individuals isn’t a bad thing, of course, not. Support and empathy are the building blocks of good relationships. But the Rescuer adds another dimension to that. Rather than providing support when requested, the Rescuer tends to intrude on an unasked basis, assume responsibilities, or become personally accountable for another person’s issues and feelings. This can lead to imbalanced relationships, emotional burnout, and even codependency. What starts as care can quickly turn into control, especially if your sense of self-worth becomes tied to being needed.
Read more: How Compromise Creates Lasting Happiness in Relationships
So, Where Does This Urge Come From?
1. The Drama Triangle: Rescuer, Victim, Persecutor
One classic psychological model that explains this dynamic is the Drama Triangle, developed by Stephen Karpman in the late 1960s. The triangle involves three roles:
- Victim: Emotionally overwhelmed, helpless, or powerless.
- Persecutor: Blames, controls, or criticises.
- Rescuer: Fixes, saves, or helps others to feel important.
The Rescuer thinks they are being helpful, but their actions keep the Victim in a dependent role. The individual they’re trying to save does not develop or learn responsibility because the Rescuer will not allow it.
Ironically, this triangle is frequently a closed circuit. A Rescuer may resent quickly, then flip into the Persecutor position (“After all I’ve done for you, you still don’t listen!”)—or become a victim when their help is rebuffed. Often, the codependent rescuer gets a sense of self through rescuing. Their self-worth is tied to being the caretaker, the protector, or the fixer. However, that doesn’t allow for much authenticity or genuine care for one another.
Read more: The Psychology of Rescue
2. Childhood Patterns: When Love Was Conditional
Much rescuing is rooted in childhood. Children who grew up caring for emotionally unavailable, disordered, or needy parents, for instance, learn from an early age that their role is to maintain peace or fix things. As a result, they may have been rewarded with praise, attention, or affection, performance-based love, not presence-based. This provides the foundation for adult relationships, wherein they still think that love is obtained by being useful. They might not be aware of how to be loved as themselves, but just because of what they do.
Read More: The Psychology Behind the Fear of Abandonment
3. Anxious Attachment and Fear of Abandonment
People with an anxious attachment style often over-function in relationships. They try to keep others close by being overly helpful, accommodating, or present, even when it means neglecting their own needs. But this sets up a one-way relationship dynamic in which actual intimacy is swapped for implicit bargains: I’ll continue to save you, and you won’t leave me. There’s a reason volunteering feels great, it lights up the reward centres in our brain.
Helping gets us a release of dopamine and oxytocin, the chemicals that make us feel good. This can be a sort of emotional “high,” particularly for the person who gets their self-esteem by being helpful. In the long run, the Rescuer may get addicted to this validation, even if it causes exhaustion, resentment, or ongoing frustration. On the last note, maybe you tell yourself a lot that if you could fix them, why not yourself? But it’s a longer and larger process of healing and becoming self-aware of your patterns. We are all figuring it out, one day at a time. Life is a gradual process, not a blip.
Read More: Attachment Patterns Across Relational Contexts: A Psychological Overview
FAQs
FAQ 1: Why do I always feel responsible for solving other people’s issues?
That impulse usually stems from a more profound emotional pattern. Most individuals who take on others’ responsibilities were raised in situations where their emotional needs were not fulfilled, where they needed to “earn” love through being helpful or useful. With time, helping others is a means to feel valuable, connected, or in control. But too often, this behaviour of helping is also a projection of your own unrecognized needs. You may be providing others with the care, patience, or support you’ve always wanted somebody to give you. It’s not a fault—it’s a survival mechanism. Recognising it is the beginning of more equal, healthier relationships.
FAQ 2: Is it selfish to stop helping others and take care of myself?
Not in the least. Self-care is the most sustainable method of being fully available to others. Overgiving without addressing your own emotional needs, however, tends to result in burnout, resentment, and emotional exhaustion. Self-care does not equal stopping caring about others—it simply equals putting yourself in the circle of care. You owe yourself the same support and compassion you give so readily to others. Remember: you can’t pour out of an empty cup.
FAQ 3: How do I know the difference between helping from love versus helping from an unhealed place?
A positive indicator is the way you feel afterwards. If assisting leaves you feeling warm, open-hearted, and energetic, it most probably came from a loving and aligned place. If you feel resentful, drained, or invisible, it could be a warning that you are assisting with the expectation of getting love, validation, or connection that you’re not receiving elsewhere. Another sign is urgency. If you have an overwhelming desire to “fix” someone or get upset if you can’t assist, it could indicate your own emotional wounds are being triggered. That’s when it’s good to stop and ask: What part of me is hurting right now? Awareness doesn’t mean you quit helping—it just means you begin doing so with more clarity, compassion, and boundaries.
References +
McMahon, D. (2005). The drama triangle. The Skilled Facilitator Fieldbook, 421.
Batson, C. D. (1975). Attribution as a mediator of bias in helping. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 32(3), 455–466. https://doi.org/10.1037/h0077140