Can “Perpetual Victims” Change?
How victims are made…and how they can grow into empowerment
I recently experienced conflict with someone that felt like it came out of nowhere. And not only that, but felt incredibly inappropriate, considering the timing.
During the tense exchange of text messages, this person mentioned something about my propensity to play the victim — an accusation I’ve heard from the same handful of people for many decades, as well as a few boyfriends.
Despite that familiar criticism, most everything else about this conflict was different than usual. It is one of the first times someone has brought charges to my door that I wasn’t sure I had any obligation to answer. Usually, when someone — especially this person — tells me I’m wrong, I believe them and spend the next few months apologizing and begging for forgiveness.
After a few years of intense therapy, I no longer default to the storyline that I’m always in the wrong. I no longer automatically assume that if someone else calls me out, their story must be more accurate than mine.
However, that’s not to say that I won’t talk to them about it or that I wouldn’t respect the validity of their feelings. I also believe that even if an issue doesn’t feel that it’s mine to take on, it seems reasonable to assume there is some level of truth in the criticisms.
In other words: Yes, I can get lost in victimhood.
However, there’s so much more to the story than that.
Victim. Do you know what the word means? I’m not talking about our pop culture definition. I’m talking about the actual definition.
According to Merriam-Webster, the definition of victim is: “one that is acted on and usually adversely affected by a force or agent,” or “one that is subjected to oppression, hardship, or mistreatment,” or “one that is tricked or duped.”
And yet, when we call someone a victim in our culture, we use that term in a very different way. We believe victims put themselves in a position to be adversely affected. We believe victims asked to be oppressed and mistreated. We believe victims allowed themselves to be tricked or duped.
Oh, how we love victim-blaming in this culture.
But let’s follow that thread, just for funsies. Can we get lost in our own victimhood? If we are victimized enough, do we start to see ourselves as perpetually victimized?
Yes, I believe this can happen. But not because of the weakness of character that’s implied when people point fingers at those who allegedly “play the victim.”
I believe it’s because those of us who struggle with victimhood were conditioned not to have boundaries. We were taught that expressing boundaries was a demonstration of selfishness or a need for control.
Thus, we learned to never stand up for ourselves. And doesn’t it make sense that we would, therefore, experience a disproportionate amount of victimization? Perhaps even come to see ourselves as victims?
If we were taught that expressing boundaries is a character defect then it doesn’t seem surprising to me that we’d come to experience life from the perspective of a doormat.
My word of the year for 2023 was NO and the reason I chose that word is because I don’t feel like I was encouraged, or even allowed to use that word throughout most of my life. I remember being called out for having boundaries. I remember having my boundaries treated as character flaws. I remember being talked out of my boundaries. I remember NO either being called out as evidence of my selfishness or being received as the opening offer in a negotiation.
I’m going to say something about that that I’m sure many will interpret as more evidence of me playing the victim — and I don’t really care.
It wasn’t my fault that I haven’t had boundaries for most of my life. I’m not going to blame that on anyone else — there’s no point. I’m sure everyone did their best. And god knows, we do not exist in a world that respects the boundaries of those who aren’t white, cishet, and male. How can anyone model good boundaries when we aren’t taught how to do so?
No one ends up in victimhood because they enjoy being the victim. No one actually wants to be victimized. Give me a break with all that nonsense. We end up here because we were conditioned this way.
But that doesn’t mean we are stuck here. That doesn’t mean we can’t heal our “inner victim.”
As the aforementioned conflict escalated, I remained committed to my stance, which was that we should talk on the phone but in a day or two, when emotions were not so volatile. And though I don’t want to get into the details of how that was received, out of respect for the other party, I’ll simply say that the conversation culminated in a phone call that I reluctantly answered, reminding the other party that I would hang up if we couldn’t have a safe conversation.
I ended up having to hang up.
Later that night, ruminating on the victim comment — which, to be clear, was not the central issue in this conflict, but certainly something that felt worth examining — I decided to pull out my well-worn copy of Caroline Myss’ Sacred Contracts, a classic spiritual self-help book from the 90s that I’ve read at least a dozen times.
I chose that book because it outlines the concept of not only the alleged “sacred contracts” our souls agree to before we come into being in this world, but because Myss also suggests that our contracts employ the use of archetypes to help us move through our spiritual lessons.
She believes we all embody twelve archetypes — and that they are all different except for four foundational archetypes that everyone shares: the prostitute, the child, the saboteur…and the victim.
Each of these foundational “shadow archetypes” are pivotal for the growth of our soul. Each one of them is an opportunity for self-mastery, and they correspond to an important level of spiritual development that is essential for each of us to achieve.
The victim is here to teach us self-esteem, self-worth, and strong selfhood. And that is an area I know I struggle with.
Determined to try once again to master my inner victim, I read through the section on this archetype. In it, Myss describes a man who was constantly victimized by a co-worker who expected this man to cover for him when he couldn’t do all his work. One day, the man stood up straight and said my new favorite word: “NO.” He declared, “I won’t do your work for you anymore.”
Myss goes on to say that this kind of interaction is essential for using the victim archetype to create a sense of self-esteem and self-empowerment.
I stared at those words again and again. Words I’d read a dozen times before. I didn’t remember it being that simple.
I realized that I’d just hung up on someone in order to reinforce a boundary that I will not engage in unsafe conflict. In other words…I did the thing you’re supposed to do to heal the victim.
I stood up for myself.
In the aftermath of that conflict, I realized something important: the people who criticize you for being a victim often don’t actually want you to change.
The fact that I reinforced my boundary by hanging up the phone did not go over well. And I’m not surprised. The same thing has happened when boyfriends called me a victim — if I stood up for myself, they pushed back. Hard.
Perhaps this is part of the lesson. The “sacred contract.” I’m not sure you can grow into your personal power or build a solid sense of self-esteem if you don’t have to really work for it. If you don’t have to risk disapproval, criticism, or even estrangement.
If the lesson is to learn how to truly stand on your own, perhaps that’s part of this journey: to stand alone.
Though I’m also feeling sassy enough to point out to all the folks who criticize others for being victims that you don’t come off as sincere if your response to them not acting like a victim is to condemn them. Isn’t that what you wanted?
I have to admit, I surprised myself in this conflict. In fact, I’ve had several conflicts similar to this in the past year within relationships with people that I love dearly, but where strife, stress, and conflict seem ever-present.
I surprised myself by not only having boundaries, but expressing them and enforcing them — even when I’m being directly challenged by allegations that my boundaries are a sneaky attempt to control and abuse.
I used to fall for that. But I’ve just spent the last three years in intensive therapy learning about boundaries. And I’m actually pretty confident at this point that I’m not in danger of Jonah Hill-ing this.
But here’s the even bigger surprise: In the aftermath of this conflict, I’m not angry. I wouldn’t say I have zero anger about the bigger picture, but I don’t feel angry. My primary feeling is peace.
Anger has been an important teacher for me these past few years. I’ve learned that anger is often an indicator that a boundary is needed. Anger tells us when violations are occurring or when they seem imminent. Anger shows us the exact moment to implement self-protection, to communicate our boundaries, to say NO.
When we are taught that our anger is bad, wrong, and a moral failure, guess what? It’s inevitable that we become victims. And one necessary step in healing from perpetual victimhood is to befriend our anger. To let it flow. To roll around in our rage and let it reanimate us. To show us that it’s okay to hold other people accountable after a lifetime of taking 100% of the blame.
I’ve been angry for several years now. I needed to be. I needed to learn how to be comfortable with my anger. To learn how to feel it. How to listen to its instructions.
And now that that is becoming more natural — now that I am more frequently speaking my boundaries and saying no — I find that my feelings of anger are no longer so overwhelming. I no longer need it to be.
Now, anger can tell me what to do, I will heed its instructions, and then it flows right out of me. I believe this is the natural process of anger — one that has been suppressed and disrupted my entire life.
I am learning to understand I can let it in, allow it to do its job, and then let it go, knowing I am safer because of it.
All my life, I feared the people who called me a perpetual victim were right about me. I always knew I struggled with it. And god knows, not because I wanted to, as so many suggested, but because I didn’t know any other way.
As it turns out, the solution is exactly what you’d think: Get mad, let the anger instruct you on what boundaries to set, enforce those boundaries, and stand strong even when the pushback feels overwhelming.
Remember, self-empowerment is supposed to be hard.
Unfortunately, as you heal from being a perpetual victim, you’ll find the people who called you that will have a whole new set of criticisms for you. Lucky for you, your developing sense of self-esteem will make it easier and easier for you to focus on your own opinion of yourself…which is the only one that matters.
© Y.L. Wolfe 2024
Y.L. Wolfe is a gender-curious, solosexual, perimenopausal, childless crone-in-training, exploring these experiences through writing, photography, and art. You can find more of her work at yaelwolfe.com. If you love her writing, leave her a tip over at Ko-fi.
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