Playing the Victim Role

A couple in an argument.

It was the end of a family visit. We were sitting at the table for dinner, and I had just gotten back from spending the day with my nephews. I had had such a great time with them, and I was proud of myself for being able to take each one of my nieces and nephews to do something they wanted to do with their Aunt on my own during their trip. One of them pulled out a shirt that had the name of the place we had gone that he was to keep in his drawer as a souvenir. Immediately, someone at the table lays into me about the shirt and that it would cause his girlfriend back home to think he was cheating. I was caught completely off guard.

Growing up as the only girl with adhd, emotionally neglected in many ways, abused in others, and generally what felt like at the wrong place at the wrong time all of the time, I was used to the ridicule, the chastizement, the sarcasm, that was so ingrained in our family culture it felt like love but reverberated like rejection. This was a familiar setting in a familiar, yet painful, family dynamic. It was also one of several familiar conversations over this visit. Conversations I took silently. Ridicule, I packed down with all of the other really awful comments this person had made over the last months, years, a lifetime. The family that I had sought refuge under after I left the Army was the family that continued dinner after dinner, vacation after vacation, to tear me apart. The family that showed up in invitations but never in arrivals. We never talked about personal details, only in personal attacks. My brother, Mike, God rest his soul, was the matriarch and was amazing at including me, my mother, and my son in all family activities; that was his way of showing he cared, but our family was never good at loving each other well.

As the berrating went on and every adult at the table chimed in, another familiar tone took the stage. The sound of me losing my temper and storming out. Up rose the familiar feeling of being trapped, cornered - heavy breathing, panic welling up in my chest, wanting to pick up my young son and run as far away as I could, but having to stay because I was my mother's ride. The "shock and awe," as one client puts it, of being lulled into thinking a place is safe, only to find out otherwise. A great memory crushed and trampled on by the very people I thought would be proud and thankful for the effort.

The dinner ends, and out walks my brother Mike, who sweetly says to me:

"Susanne, at some point, you have to stop playing the victim".

I WAS a victim. I was a victim of gaslighting at this dinner. I was a victim of shaming by family members, ongoing verbal abuse by someone sitting at that table, constant ridicule about the smallest thing, the way I placed my hands when standing, or the southern accent I had adopted in Alabama. The ongoing sexual and physical abuse I experienced by others throughout my life. But at that moment, I realized

I was playing the role of a victim.

A role that I didn't have to play.

Those words, which I thought were painful to hear at the time, changed my life. This isn't victim shaming. This became accountability for taking control of what I could control in order to change outcomes I had the power to change. Much like self-defense doesn't make the assault okay, but it does give you a better chance of surviving and even leaving unharmed. The mental and behavioural shift that began to take place when I started to take accountability for my own choices was paramount in recovering safety and peace. I couldn't control anyone else, but as an adult, I could shift my environment and my expectations of how others were allowed the opportunity to treat me,

Over the next several years, as God was pulling me back into His orbit, I learned about something I never knew before, something called "boundaries". As someone raised to take every hit and be responsible for every emotion, even sometimes a person's survival, I never even knew I was allowed, cosmically, to say no to things. I never imagined that I didn't have to take on the burden of responsibility of other people's inadequacies or emotions. That night, something changed; eventually, I learned how to say no to people and situations that didn't treat me well.

And listen, I am not talking about getting your feelings hurt during a conversation, trying to control uncomfortable outcomes, or walking away from church, friendships, and family permanently with no hope of reconciliation. That is not how God responds to us. I am talking about walking away from relationships and situations that cause harm in ways we might not realize.

I allowed that time with my family to take pieces of my self-worth and identity that I never should have given them power to take. Once I realized that was a choice I made, I began to learn how to choose differently. It took years to get that back, and it took leaning into God's word, learning and testing boundaries, and making the hard decisions of cutting people and situations out of my life that I was not emotionally capable of handling at that time. It also took having the hard conversations with people whom I had taught that certain behaviours were okay and politely, but firmly, standing my ground when they acted hurt or insulted or just refused to change.

Through the sanctifying power and the constant conversation with the Holy Spirit, I learned, over time, not to let things build up into pipe bombs. I learned how to communicate my needs and wants to others, kindly, and in a way that wasn't a question, but a choice offered for them to make. I learned to set hard lines and not make exceptions because I was afraid to lose people. I learned that my anger was really a response to my nervous system's fear that I would let something or someone go too far. I learned to be okay with distance, silence, and being misunderstood.

There are some abusive members of my family that I may never talk to again for reasons they may never understand. I pray that is not the way it will always be, but it might be, and I have learned to live with and pray through that. Now my inner circle looks like love and support, and my outer circle invites people in without fear because I have learned to set boundaries that create limits on what I am exposed to. My nervous system is calmer because I can be trusted to take accountability for my own safety in healthier ways. I no longer have to use explosions to create distance because I honor my own fence.

I am no longer playing the role they placed me in.

I am no longer playing the role of the victim.

Maybe you grew up thinking, and in some ways being told, that others didn't have a choice for how they responded because of your power over them. A commonly told lie used to justify sexual abuse. Or maybe they put you in charge of situations and outcomes (maybe still do) because you are somehow stronger or more capable of handling it. Maybe you learned to be, or maybe you are just pushing it all down and driving forward, and the burden shows up in anxiety, depression, lethargy, or physical illness. Maybe you were the one who never rocked the boat, so now you are in the middle of every confrontation because you learned to be the peacemaker. Maybe you lack boundaries and situational awareness in order to avoid harmful situations and people, so now you have social anxiety so severe that you stay home. Maybe you taught the closest people to you that mistreatment was okay.

You don't have to stay because you can.

It is okay to assess and reassess, with scrutiny, who you let close.

You don't have to be the one to take charge because you always have been.

You can draw boundaries and create distance simply because you should.

If you are out of danger, you can speak up when someone does something to you.

Strong sometimes means saying no to people and situations you have been taught to say yes to.

Peace is a choice, and sometimes we have to re-learn how to choose.

Jesus and God the Father are great examples of this.

Accountability may look different as an adult.

I encourage you to reflect on your own life.

Do any of the statements above touch home?

Does anything I wrote sound familiar?

If you need help figuring that out, let me know. I am here to help!

Here are some resources to get you started...

Book Recommendation: The Boundaries Book and Do I Need Boundaries? Seeking to Please God by Learning to Say No

Reflection: Sit in conversation with the Holy Spirit and ask him, "I am playing a role that you did not call me to play?"

Prayer: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the Courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time, Enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardship as a pathway to peace; Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His will; That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him forever in the next.

If you or someone you know is experiencing abuse, you can get help here

May the God of peace be forever at your side.