Recently, I read a blog post by one of my favorite authors, Donald Miller. The title caught my eye because it is a question I’ve often asked myself: “Are you playing the victim to manipulate others?”
Miller argues that everyone has been a victim at least once in their lives, and wrote, “We were either neglected by our parents, picked on at school or ripped off in a business deal later in life. When we are healthy, we can learn from those experiences, forgive and move on. But when we’re not, we tend to re-victimize ourselves, over and over.”
Although he begins his piece by defining victimization in a broad sense, he narrows it down as he continues. He wrote, “Playing the victim shows up as complaining or whining about some task we have to do, or having a really negative attitude toward life.” In his conclusion, Miller explains, “Forgiving people for their minor transgressions and just ‘getting over it’ is not something a victim does easily. They see ‘being wronged’ as an ATM machine spitting out cash and it’s tough to walk away.”
His main point: even if we are victims, we shouldn’t use that to exert power over others; instead of continuing to “demonize” the “oppressor,” — the one who wronged us — forgive and let go.
Being a victim of various kinds of abuse, I found Miller’s piece hard to swallow. As I disclose in my adoption story, my abuser was Dominic’s birthfather. I shared this not because I am looking for pity or sympathy, but because the abuse played a role in my decision to give Dominic to Robby and Marie.
I agree with Miller, that everyone has likely been a victim at some point. Among birthmothers, I’ve noticed victimization often happening before placement. Pregnant women who are considering adoption often fall prey to manipulators. They can end up as victims of misinformation, selfishness, unenforceable agreements and deception. But some have been abused or are victims of other atrocities, too.
Miller uses Henry Cloud and John Townsend’s definition of a victim, “a person who is completely and utterly powerless.” I think that anyone who is a victim might agree that the moments in which the abuse, neglect, manipulation, or other “bad thing” is happening, the person on the receiving end is powerless. After all, no one can control what another person does; the victim is not at fault for the persecutor’s actions.
What we can control, though, is what happens after those moments have passed.
I spent several months under the birthfather’s spell. I don’t absolve my responsibility for this; I chose to be with him and I chose to stay. The longer we were together, the harder it felt to leave. With help from others, I did. I was not a victim when I exerted my power to leave.
Often I feel bitter toward the birthfather. I “re-victimize” myself by replaying memories from two years ago. When I feel anger toward him, I blame him for losing my son; I cannot see my responsibility for my actions when I feel this way.
When I read Miller’s blog post, I remembered the times I was accused of using the abuse as a way to manipulate. But what I have concluded and am striving for is exactly what Miller wrote in the beginning of his piece: “When we are healthy, we can learn from those experiences, forgive and move on.”
This is a tall order after being a victim of trauma. For me, it means not drowning in my suffering, forgiving my abuser and taking control of these moments in which I am no longer a victim. Like many victims, I think I will continue fighting waves of bitterness. But I know I don’t want to drown in it. I do not want to hold myself prisoner to my trauma, or be a victim forever.
Have you ever been a victim? How do you deal with the fallout once you are no longer in a powerless state? Leave a reply with your thoughts in the comment box below! Please also read our comment policy.
I really needed this today. I’ve never been abused, but I do play the victim more often than I’d like to admit. I’m glad you wrote and shared this!