“The prevalent form of despair is not being your true self.” ~Søren Kierkegaard
<p A few years back, I was having a coffee catch-up with an old acquaintance I’ll refer to as Ray, a respected guide. He’s a few years my senior, silver-haired and grounded, the kind of individual who listens wholeheartedly.
<p We met at a quaint coffee shop close to my home. I shared my experiences from my inaugural year as a director, explaining how I transitioned from a counselor whose identity revolved around listening and forming connections to suddenly overseeing budgets, drafting evaluations, and holding individuals accountable.
“I’m uncertain about what I’m supposed to be doing,” I expressed, “and I feel like I’m troubling people each time I seek assistance.”
<p Ray nodded thoughtfully. “That sounds challenging,” he remarked. “It’s understandable that you’re finding the shift difficult.”
<p I continued my monologue, adding to my list to strengthen my argument. “And the feedback I receive doesn’t help,” I stated. “People claim I’m too kind, that I’m not strict enough on policies, that I don’t maintain firm enough boundaries. Yet, they desire the freedom.”
“I’m doubtful about how much longer I can sustain this,” I confided to him.
<p He allowed me to finish. Then he leaned in slightly. “May I share an observation I’m making?”
“Absolutely,” I replied.
“You’re perceiving yourself as a victim,” he said. “As if life is merely unfolding before you and you’re waiting for it to cease.”
<p I sat in silence for a moment, anticipating he would follow up with some guidance.
<p But I understood Ray better than that. He always offered the truth as he perceived it and then expected you to navigate your own path.
<p I drove home with a throbbing headache. I reminded myself it wasn’t right, that Ray hadn’t grasped the entirety of the situation, that I had valid reasons for my feelings. Yet the term he had employed had somehow infiltrated the car with me.
<p It lingered when I tried to fall asleep. Still present at two in the morning as I stared at the ceiling.
<p Victim.
<p I didn’t desire it, but I couldn’t shake it off.
<p I rotated the word in my thoughts like you might examine a stone in your hand, inspecting it from every perspective. As much as I hesitated to admit it, I began to uncover a kernel of truth within it.
<p I had been clinging to grievances that I had never voiced. I had been quietly amassing a sense of being wronged without ever articulating a word or attempting to alter circumstances. That is a label, and the label, as much as it hurt, was the one Ray had just provided me.
<p I visualized an image as I lay there enveloped in darkness. I imagined sporting a wooden sign around my neck, the kind you might find in an ancient photograph, hung there like a label.
<p And inscribed on the sign was “Victim.”
<p The difficult realization was that I recognized I wasn’t being punished by another. A part of me was opting to don it. That image remained with me, and it shifted something within.
I began to pose a question to myself that felt more beneficial than indulging in self-pity. If “victim” was the label I didn’t want to carry, what was the label I did want? What would it resemble to occupy the opposing stance?
<p I contemplated various labels. Hero, victor, agent, creator, survivor, overcomer. They all had insights to offer, yet none aligned with my needs.
<p Then a word began to emerge from a profound place. Of all the words it could have been, this one took me by surprise. The term that arose to me was “Steward.”
<p I researched it that night, and the word “steward” has existed for quite some time. At its core, it signified the guardian of the house, someone entrusted to care for what belonged to a narrative larger than their own.
<p I hadn’t sought that word, and perhaps that’s why it resonated so deeply. I found myself questioning why it had arisen, what it represented, and what it was urging me to understand. It felt less like a thought I generated and more like a gift bestowed upon me.
<p I discovered that a steward is someone who cares for what has been entrusted to them, remains present with intention, and acknowledges that what they’ve received, including its challenging aspects, is worthy of care.
It wasn’t precisely the opposite of victim, but it was the remedy in my situation. A victim is defined by what has been inflicted upon them. A steward is defined by their choices in response.
<p Now, years later, the challenges inherent in leadership persist. I still grapple with criticism, particularly when I feel like I’m already exerting my utmost effort. But what has changed now is my perspective.
<p A few weeks ago, one of my most capable team members requested a formal meeting. She sat across from my desk, poised and straightforward, and explained that the flexibility I was granting others was complicating her job.
<p “When individuals don’t follow through and there are no repercussions, those who fulfill their commitments end up shouldering more than their share,” she stated. “It feels unjust.”
<p Internally, I was already crafting my reply. I wanted to explain that I’d been attempting to alleviate the pressure others were experiencing, that I recognized how stretched everyone was and was trying to provide them space to exhale.
<p This was a truthful response, but it was also the victim's voice speaking, the one asking, “What about me?” A steward doesn’t shield themselves from difficult feedback. A steward nurtures what they’ve been entrusted with, and what I had been given at that moment was the truth.
The victim within me yearned for understanding. The steward inside of me recognized I was tending to something greater than my own comfort. The department was mine to nurture, not to retreat behind.
<p “You’re correct,” I acknowledged. “And I appreciate that you came to me directly.” I conveyed that I had been working on maintaining clearer boundaries, that her insights would aid me in doing that more effectively, and that those who perform their responsibilities with excellence deserve a leader who upholds that standard.
<p The transition from victim to steward is an ongoing journey. I haven’t mastered it, nor do I anticipate doing so. I still falter, still feel the sign settling back around my neck, and must find my way back.
<p I used to perceive the challenges of leadership as something inflicted upon me, as if the pressure and criticism were indicators that I didn’t belong. What changed was my realization that this phase of my life was asking something of me, rather than punishing me. I was being summoned into service whether I felt prepared or not.
<p I’ve contemplated stewardship extensively since that evening. About what it signifies to cease merely surviving my life and begin nurturing it. Those are two markedly different affiliations with the same experience.
<p On that night at the coffee shop, Ray understood me well enough to share an uncomfortable truth. He wasn’t gentle about it. Yet, gentleness isn’t always our requirement.
Sometimes we require someone close enough to identify the sign hanging around our neck.
<p I’m no longer bearing that sign, or at the very least, I’m striving not to. On days when I sense it settling back around my neck, I recollect the term that succeeded it.
<p Steward.
<p Someone who tends to what they’ve been bestowed. Someone who inquires what life expects of them, listens attentively, and answers the call.
That’s the individual I aspire to be.
About Daniel H. Shapiro
Dr. Daniel H. Shapiro is a keynote speaker, workshop facilitator, and mentor. He is passionate about human connections and the narratives we carry with us. For additional information about his book, The 5 Practices of the Caring Mentor, or his mentoring and speaking services, please visit: www.yourinherentgoodness.com.
**Transcending Victimhood: My Path to Taking Ownership of My Story**
In a world where challenges can often seem insurmountable, the journey from victimhood to empowerment is both arduous and transformative. My personal journey acts as a testament to the strength of reclaiming one’s narrative and the significance of taking charge of one’s existence.
**Comprehending Victimhood**
Victimhood can appear in many forms, whether due to trauma, loss, or social oppression. Initially, I found myself ensnared in a cycle of blame and hopelessness, feeling defenseless against the circumstances that had struck me. This mindset not only impacted my mental well-being but also impeded my ability to progress. Acknowledging this condition was the initial step in my journey.
**Recognizing My Emotions**
The path to moving beyond victimhood commenced with recognizing my emotions. It was crucial to affirm my experiences and feelings without allowing them to define me. I discovered that it was acceptable to feel hurt, angry, or adrift. Keeping a journal became a healing outlet, enabling me to voice my thoughts and reflect on my experiences. This practice assisted me in processing my feelings and achieving clarity regarding my situation.
**Altering My Viewpoint**
As I delved deeper into my journey, I recognized that altering my viewpoint was essential. Rather than seeing myself merely as a victim of my circumstances, I began to perceive myself as a survivor endowed with the strength to confront challenges. This shift in mindset was not immediate; it demanded persistent effort and self-kindness. I focused more on what I could manage rather than what I couldn’t, which empowered me to take proactive steps toward change.
**Pursuing Support**
I came to understand that overcoming victimhood is not a solitary endeavor. Seeking help from friends, family, and professionals was pivotal in my healing process. I joined support groups where I connected with individuals who had encountered similar hurdles. Sharing our narratives fostered a sense of community and belonging, reminding me that I was not isolated in my hardships.
**Establishing Goals and Taking Initiative**
Equipped with a refreshed perspective and a support network, I began to set achievable goals for myself. These goals ranged from personal development to career aspirations. Each minor success reinforced my sense of agency and control over my existence. I embraced opportunities for growth, whether through education, community service, or pursuing passions that invigorated me.
**Cultivating Resilience**
Resilience became a fundamental aspect of my journey. I learned that setbacks are a customary part of life and do not dictate my worth or potential. Embracing resilience involved nurturing a mindset that regarded challenges as chances for growth. I engaged in self-care, mindfulness, and positive affirmations to fortify my mental strength.
**Reclaiming My Story**
The pinnacle of my journey was the realization that I possessed the power to reclaim my story. I commenced sharing my narrative, not as a tale of victimhood but as one of resilience and empowerment. This act of storytelling was liberating; it allowed me to assume ownership of my experiences and motivate others facing similar obstacles. By reframing my story, I transformed my anguish into purpose.
**Conclusion**
Rising above victimhood is a profoundly personal journey that necessitates bravery, introspection, and support. My experience taught me that while we might face hardships, we hold the power to redefine our stories. By acknowledging our emotions, adjusting our viewpoints, seeking help, setting goals, embracing resilience, and reclaiming our narratives, we can take control of our lives and emerge stronger than before. This journey is not solely about overcoming; it is about flourishing and inspiring others to do the same.
