A few weeks ago, we spent some time unpacking our understanding of ‘victim.’ We often see ourselves as the heroes and main characters of our story, which makes it easier to fall into the victim trap: forgetting that we are not only the handless maiden (see reflection #5 for a recap of this story). But how do we consistently show up? If there were a metaphorical figure watching us from a bird’s eye view, what stories would they tell? How would they paint us?
In our Becoming Restoried session, two terms came up that I’d love to explore: being victimized and holding a victim identity. It took me a few years to make the distinction between them (in my case, my victim identity was often followed by a wedding gown train of frustrating self-deprecating). Truthfully, it was a difficult pattern to interrupt, but as Margaret Atwood tells us, “A story is a pattern interrupted.”
In my deepest, raw darkness, I had no concept of boundaries. Though they’ve never said so, I know this was challenging for the people who wanted to help me. I distinctly remember disclosing some of my suicidal thoughts (without intent) to a teammate on the bus to basketball games. It is equally true that I needed help and better discernment. My mind convinced me that I was exempt from boundaries because I was hurting — I had been victimized, true, but I allowed this to be synonymous with a victim identity.
When we talk about boundaries, we often talk about the people we don’t let in. Setting boundaries with the people we do let in is even more difficult because these are boundaries to protect them, not us. Our closest family, friends, and even our mental healthcare providers aren’t always able to take on our open wounds (this rule is broken in a crisis, of course).
Alongside our people is the place where we feel safest — to speak and bleed from our wounds. Our people are the ones who hand us the thread to stitch wounds into scars. This is important. But there has to be intention and care. Our support systems and safety plans must be networks, not single individuals.
One of my favourite people in the world taught me that this network is like a wheel with spokes. Different people — our family, friends, mental health care providers, etc. — are each a spoke on the wheel. They help turn our wheel of physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health. It’s also important to know that one spoke can’t turn the wheel alone. However, the more spokes there are, the higher the chance that one can take on more load when others can’t.
When I trapped myself as a victim, I didn’t see spoke holes and attempt to fill the gaps right away. I leaned harder, without thought, on the few spokes I did have.
When we trap ourselves as victims, we also don’t see where we might be a cracked, rusted spoke on someone else’s wheel, straining its ability to turn long-term. In my pain, I neglected to see how I was turning (or stopping) other’s wheels.
I also didn’t understand the difference between capacity and willingness. For example, my people are willing to talk about my battle with suicide, yet they don’t always have the mental, emotional, or spiritual capacity to. Human beings aren’t 24/7, and when we ask them to be, we aren’t allowing them to be the strongest spoke they can be for us (and aren’t being strong spokes for them either). I’m grateful that I know this now, but I’ve never written the process linking faultlines, pattern exposure, and adopting better practices until now.
The beauty of being human is that we aren’t the main character anywhere except in our own minds. “Life imitates art far more than art imitates life” are some of Oscar Wilde’s most famous words. Storytelling (and becoming restoried) is an art. Life is a story, Earth is the theatre, and each of us can play any character.
We release ourselves from victim identities and see that bird’s eye view when we are both willing to play different characters and understand that, sometimes, we slip into characters we don’t choose. Unpacking all of this — and our relationship with it — is restorying.
You can take Becoming Restoried’s What Story Are You Living assessment, or join one of their ongoing free virtual workshops.