I remember a 20/20 episode that aired decades ago. The host opened with a stark line: “Everybody is a victim.” He wasn’t dismissing real harm. He was asking us to look closely at how we respond to the events that shape our lives. Should we claim responsibility for our part in things? Yes.
Decades later, that question still matters. As a therapist—and as someone who has walked through trauma—I hold it differently now than I did as a young adult.
When I first learned about the roots of slavery, it changed how I saw human interaction. From the time of the earliest cave paintings to the present day, people have harmed one another. Humanity’s capacity for cruelty continues. Every day we cross each other’s boundaries, sometimes without noticing. The real question is what we do next.
I notice this in ordinary moments. Every time I call a friend or family member, I am entering their space. If I launch straight into conversation, I cross further. Lately I have been texting first to ask if and when a call would work. It is a small habit, and it has taken practice. Manners, it turns out, are a form of respect.
The same principle shows up in therapy. In my own sessions as a client, I often send a brief subject line beforehand: “I’d like to talk about the anniversary of my mother’s death this week.” That small act of clarity honors both of us. It models the kind of boundary awareness I hope clients will eventually claim for themselves.
Therapy is not about staying stuck in a victim identity. Most people do not want to live there. They want to recognize boundary crossings and respond in healthier ways. Good therapy helps us step out of the blame cycle so we can act rather than only react.
This does not mean people are never victimized. I have spoken openly about my own journey through trauma and PTSD. Accepting what happened, and working long and hard to heal, has allowed me to move forward. Healing has become a more joyful state. Before that work, I lived as a victim. Now I can notice when boundaries are crossed and respond with clearer strength.
The work of therapy leads toward functional living and greater self-awareness. We become more conscious of our own actions. In the language of many recovery and spiritual traditions, we take a daily inventory and make amends where we can. In that sense, therapy is about honest self-examination and choosing a better course. It is not easy work—psychotherapy is not for wimps.
Moving from a dysfunctional pattern to a more functional self depends on the approach we use and the questions we are willing to ask. Useful questions and honest conversation help us see what health can look like in a real life. These conversations take effort. Sometimes they reveal patterns that have been in place for years. Then comes the “aha” moment—the sudden connection that shifts everything. It requires the humility to say “I don’t know” and to ask for help. I learn from the people I work with every day.
What might someone have to teach you? How might an interaction free you from a victim identity? How might claiming a new meaning for your life interrupt the cycle that keeps you stuck?
How can you claim a new way of looking at yourself?
Is being able to say “I am a strong person” something you’d like for yourself?
