I can still remember, sitting at lunch with a friend, when she turned to me and said, "Stop being a victim!" Her brutal honesty shocked me. And of course, I argued with her that I was NOT a victim. I had my reasons for the things that I did. Well, its taken me quite a while to accept what, at the time, was keeping me blind. I had so completely bound myself to trying to meet the expectations of others, that I lived in a world of can't. The things that I wanted to do were far overshadowed by the reasons I thought they couldn't be done. The whys I had for acting the way I did lay in what I thought were others expectations of me. I truly was a complete victim!
I'm working on changing my thinking, and every time I catch myself in victimization mode I now smile, and I'm very grateful because I realize how far I've come.
As a teenager, I don't think that I was ever a problem to my parents. Who knows, may be I was. But I remember not wanting to ever push the boundaries, or push them too far. I didn't want to risk what they might think of the choices I made. So, I just never pushed. As a result, I began to live my life for their approval, guided by what I felt were their expectations.
When I was a high school junior, my father looked at me and asked, "If we get this new boat, then you'll go to the local university, OK?" I didn't know any better. I didn't know any worse. So I stayed at home and went to school because I didn't think I had a choice. I couldn't do anything else. I was relatively intelligent, above the top 10% of my graduating class of almost 800...and I didn't know that I could do anything else. Please understand, I'm not saying that it was a bad university. It's just that I felt I had to follow the path expected of me.
Selecting a major was also not easy. I wanted to be a marine biologist, but the university did not have that major. I wanted to be a writer, but what could I do as a writer? And besides, I couldn't see that leading to something my parents expected of me. As a result, my identified major was computer science. It's quite funny now to look back on this decision. At the time, it was a growing field and certainly I would be able to get a good job. Now, the major where I started my college career no longer exists, at least in that form.
After bouncing around through several majors, I graduated with a degree in elementary education. While many students feel called to be teachers, I did not. My interest was in graduating and having a job where I could be employed. Well, I did, and I was, but it didn't come easily. The summer after I graduated, my retail employer promoted me to assistant manager. At that time, teaching jobs were hard to come by. But when one opened at the last minute, I took it. After all, I'd completed my degree, wasn't that what I was supposed to do?
My first teaching position wasn't for me. Wrong school, wrong grade, I lasted the year and then by mutual agreement moved on to another position. My second teaching position was better. A better fit for me, but time or events always left me unhappy and restless, looking for something more. Now, I'm starting my 7th year in my current position. Its been over 30 years and its the longest I've stayed anywhere.
The summer after that first year teaching, I started dating my STBX (soon to be ex) husband. That time alone could yield endless stories, but here's the abridged version. After meeting in January, we started dating in early June. Sitting in his car, after dating for two weeks, he looked at me and calmly stated that if we were still dating at the end of the summer, he wanted to marry me. Laughing, I told him to ask me more seriously...he did...I said, "Yes" and we'd see what the summer would bring.
He must have known how to push my buttons of shame or expectation because far before I considered it a done deal, he was telling his friends. One thing led to the next. Our relationship was filled with far more problems than any couple should have and many that were illegal. When I would want time, he wouldn't let me have it. When I wanted to walk away, he would follow. Finally, I convinced myself that because he was there, he must be the one for me. It didn't feel right, but with all the plans and expectations, I went ahead anyway. That was over 29 years ago.
Being the victim took me through my marriage. I was yelled at. I was hit. I was locked out of my room. I was locked out of my house. I covered his faults. I made excuses for him. I created a life and a career where I was able to support him, support our family and support myself while I kept feeling that nothing I ever did was good enough.
I felt that I was expected to be a good wife, a good mother, a good provider, so I couldn't dare let anyone know. When I finally let a few people in on my secret, they encouraged me to understand that I didn't have to sit by and take it. This time in particular, I was telling a story of the previous weekend, and how I'd probably been choked...and how he was spending our money, giving us financial problems, he was an alcoholic, drinking heavily when he wasn't spending money, my hard earned money, and yet I still felt that I couldn't do anything about it.
Events that finally allowed my separation a year ago were not pretty. After being sober for a couple of years, he had again spent several months with his life revolving around a bottle when I told him that I wanted a divorce. He totalled his car and was in and out of mental facilities because of his threats to commit suicide. He refused to leave, and told me that if I left, I couldn't take anything and he'd ruin me. And then there was the rest of my life. I had to keep myself together at work, being the chair of a large department at a university, I couldn't let anyone know. And I had to be strong and keep supporting my children.
It all came to a head Memorial Day weekend 2012. He again blew up, pushing the dinner across the table at me and then taking it out on our son when he stood up for me. He tried to choke him and pulled a knife. This time, I called the police for the last time. They took him away. And that was my opportunity to get a temporary restraining order. Unfortunately, that is only where the nightmare transitioned.
All this said, I am now, not a victim. At the time that many of the decisions were made, I didn't realize the impact they had, or would have, on my life. I didn't realize the cavern of hopelessness that I was losing myself in. But, now I do. Or at least, now I see my decisions for what they were. Choices. And now I know that I have the right to make choices for my life.
Now that I see them more clearly, my choices and my actions are often different. I say "no", more often. I make my decisions while understanding my wishes and the consequences if I disregard them. I'm learning. I'm growing. There are times that I still consider the expectations of others when I choose what I will do, but one thing's for sure, I'm no longer a victim.
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