How Long Do I Choose to Play "Victim"?--That Is the Question

If I'm the victim in any abusive relationship--I am EQUALLY RESPONSIBLE for the creation, and the cultivation of that relationship abuse that I suffer. I, the victim, am as much responsible for the abuse as my abuser is. 

Once I quit playing the victim role, the abuser has no one left to victimize. The energy-feeding situation/story dissolves when it's no longer fed.

It doesn't matter if the abuse occurs in a partner/spouse relationship, a parent/child relationship, a sibling relationship, a government/constituent relationship, a business relationship, or a friendship.

Whining, commiserating with others (aka, pity parties), complaining--none of that stops the dynamics of an abusive situation. If I'm continuing to whine, I like the nasty little relationship I have going--when you look closely at me, you can actually read my delight in it, even if I'm spewing tears and snot, and carrying on like a drama queen.

My best way of dealing with a victimhood situation is to first put myself in a TIME-OUT. Just like we adults do when two little kids are fighting. We SEPARATE them--send them to different rooms to cool down and get quiet, get centered and balanced within themselves. We don't negotiate with he said/she saids.



And then I've found that using "I" statements in place of "You did/ You should" statements changes the entire dynamics of an argument or discussion. 


When I focus on making "I like" or "I feel" or "I did" or "I choose" sentences--it keeps me embracing full responsibility for my part in the relationship--I'm acting like the sovereign that I am, instead of a victim blaming someone else for making me miserable.

In the past, I have screwed up my own healthier relationships by commiserating with victims who CHOSE NOT to TAKE FULL RESPONSIBILITY for their own well-being and lives.

I have watched marriages and partnerships fall apart because of women commiserating with other women about the abusive men in their relationships, or vice versa. They don't do anything to cultivate loving and clear communication between the partners, to encourage a healthy friendship with the spouse. Instead, they feed each others hatred and angst and victimhood. They keep score, and they play dumb-ass mind games, hiding behind some god out there that is a cruel and mean and judgmental son of a B. All in the name of a really screwed up idea of "friendship"--an energy suckfest.

Why not encourage a friend to say to her partner in one of the few moments they're in the same room and quiet, "I don't like what we've become. I married you because I liked you--you were my best friend. I don't like being treated so terribly--by anyone. I don't like treating you badly either. I don't deserve that, and neither do you. What do you want to do with us? Should we separate, and take a time-out so we can get clear about what's happening with oneself before messing with another person? I don't like fighting. If we can't be best friend sovereigns together, then let's not live together anymore. We both deserve, and are capable of, more than that. Let's take the pressure off our kids, and not make them responsible for our staying true to vows for the so-called 'benefit' of our kids. It's not been a benefit to them when they get put in the middle of our fighting and game-playing and misery."

I've had a few of those conversations, like the latter, with my own husband (minus the kids, because we didn't have children). Not that he was any more abusive to me than I was to him. I gave tit for tat, too--but I also remembered that I really liked him, and that I knew deep-down we could have and be so much more than the old relationshit story we had going on the surface. Honestly, I damn-near ruined our good thing because of trying to empathize with other friends, trying to fully understand their pain.

Sharing another's misery (co-mmiseration) solves nothing--it's why I'm not a fan of support groups. People talking about their issues with people having the same issues just builds, and densifies, their stories. People can drone on and on for hours about their pains, and not open up to, much less, bring in an ounce of personal clarity. We're better taking ourselves off to be alone with oneself, and work through the emotions and releasing all on our own. I can cry and hold better, and more fully understand myself than anyone outside of me. I've lost any tolerance or patience to listen other's sob stories anymore, because I'm certain we're capable of being so much more.

Religion--any of it--is fine when it comforts and creates a safe, sacred space, and honors sovereignty--but it gets scary quickly when it gets twisted and used as a means to not face personal responsibility for one's own life, and as a way to force one's will upon another being. So many of my mentally imbalanced friends are into practicing this type of warped Christianity. You can warp any type of religion--it's just that the people I personally know are calling themselves Christians.

It's no wonder to me, then, when everything gets blown out of proportion, and loving relationships--many which began as friendships--get blown all to literal hell. It's pretty sad.

I'm not comfortable with confrontation either. Especially lately, in my self-mastery, I'm discovering what it means to have the cahunas/balls to allow myself to express my viewpoint honestly. I've lately found myself in arguments that came out of the blue. I often don't remember much of what I said, and I look back at the interlude, asking myself, "What the hell happened here?" I even felt a bit guilty because I got a bit loud, a bit passionate. It really rattled me. I've had some sleepless nights because of it. But what was happening was I was watching an old aspect of myself playing itself out once again--taunting me to do something about it--and I finally let myself freely express about what I was honestly experiencing.

In the past, I played the victim role of being the one who let everyone dump his/her beliefs and judgments all over our interactions. My abuser didn't leave any room or opportunity for me to have a different viewpoint from his/her own. My own old way of handling it was, to shut up and put up--that's just how it is. Sound familiar? I'd walk away feeling resentful and unheard, but trying to put a positive spin on it all by trying to focus on the enjoyable parts of our conversation. But, evidently, that old ship has sailed--I am free, and I have things I'm passionate about expressing and experiencing differently.

I used to convince myself that if I spoke up, that meant I was trying to change the other person, and I knew that was futile. But by allowing myself to freely speak, I realized it had nothing to do with trying to change the other person. It was simply about ALLOWING MYSELF to FREELY EXPRESS. No one else is going to allow me to do that if I'm not FIRST allowing it myself. The other person is simply a reflection of me suppressing myself. When I allowed myself my own unique expression, I discovered I honestly didn't care if the other person changed or not.

It was all about ME allowing myself to finally freely express myself, my own truths and desires, out loud.

Humans emulate the god that he/she worships in the moment. If god, for me, is a judgmental, angry, punishing fellow--that's actually what I am. I, too, am judging, even when I insert the word "observing" in its place. We like to self-righteously play god with each other and meddle, but in an oxymoronic way, we don't like admitting that we each are all gods playing with other gods.

I love the salutation, "Namaste!" It means The god I am honors the god you are. It recognizes that we are all children of the First Source of all that is. It means, to me, that I honor and respect your sovereignty, and I appreciate you honoring my sovereignty. I am open to interacting with you harmoniously. Namaste brings a smile to my lips--it reminds me of what a gift I am, and that you are, to me.

When I was a kid, I played with other kids simply because I liked them and I enjoyed their company. I didn't care about race, ethnicity, religion, status, politics, gender, sexual orientation. I learned that prejudice crap from the mentally programmed people and the mass consciousness around me. I immersed myself in making some of that shit my own truth--and it felt icky. I felt awful being prejudiced. It didn't matter who it was against at the time. I felt really guilty inside, even when the Little Human-like judgmental god I was worshipping at the time, tried to convince me that I was righteous in my prejudice.

I chose the man I'm with today because I like him, and we have fun together when we're not playing sucky little mind-games with each other, expecting the other person to change or to do our bidding, or try to make us happy and feel unconditionally loved.  That's my responsibility with myself first. As I have said before, it's absolutely impossible to love someone else enough to satisfy them, if they aren't appreciating themselves, their own gift of a life, first. That's a miserable dynamic to be in.

At first, little kids don't care about meddling, trying to control, or trying to fix other little kids--they pick that up from trying to emulate the older programmed humans around them. Kids look at other children in their vicinity with the hope that the other one may be someone fun to play with. If they come across someone they hit it off with, they play together until they get tired and cranky; at which point, they go to their separate rooms or homes, and rest, eat, and rejuvenate. They have a bit of alone-with-oneself time. Once they're centered and balanced within themselves again, they're racing out into the sunshine to play with those other kids once again.

We can learn a lot from a little kid. Fortunately, I have one integrated right here inside of me. I'm learning she has a lot of wisdom to share on how to flow simple joyous abundance--how to live with ease and grace in place of a bunch of calamity.