I once coached a client whose life was unraveling. She and her family had been displaced from their home. She felt cornered by a CEO who wielded power through intimidation. On top of that, she was carrying the unbearable weight of her brother’s escalating legal troubles—bailing him out, financially and emotionally, while berating herself for not doing enough.
She felt weak for being overwhelmed. Guilty for neglecting herself. She was exhausted, unmoored, and barely holding on.
“If this wasn’t all happening at once, I’d be okay,” she told me. “If it were just one thing instead of 50 fires, I could handle it. I should be able to handle it.” She was scared, trapped in survival mode, and paralyzed by the fear of doing anything differently.
Eventually, her body started to give out. Her doctor and therapist advised immediate medical leave. Still, she resisted, unable to bear the shame of sharing this with her CEO.
Then, the final straw. One more blow arrived, and the fragile system she had been holding together crumbled.
The Moment Everything Falls Apart
Her situation was unique, but most people have been there—drowning in overwhelm, desperately trying to keep it all together, convinced that if we just push through, things will get better. Telling ourselves, “Once I fix this one thing, everything will be different.” We bite our tongues, brace against the weight, and soldier on.
Until we can’t.
Until one more thing happens, and everything falls apart.
And when it does, it feels like failure. Proof that we weren’t strong enough, capable enough, resilient enough.
I know this experience all too well.
At 30, I was trying to hold my family together through an unexpected crisis. I had become the caretaker for my father—a 100% disabled vet with severe PTSD and mood disorders and completely dependent on others. At work, I was burned out, stuck in my zone of competence, navigating the hardest job of my career—shielding my team from dysfunction and chaos while drowning in it myself. In my personal life, I was in a relationship that fell painfully short of what I longed for.
I was overwhelmed. Doing everything I could to hold it all together. And judging myself relentlessly for being caught in old patterns.
Then, the final piece slipped and my whole structure came crashing down.
Exhausted and out of options, I finally let myself feel the full weight of it all. I surrendered to the victimhood I had been avoiding owning: This is all happening TO me. It’s too hard. It’s too much. Why me? I can’t handle this.
And in that surrender, compassion flooded my system.
Of course, I felt like a victim. Of course I was relying on old patterns. Of course, I was scared, trying to hold, fix, and solve everything.
How very human of me.
The Collapse Isn’t the End—It’s the Invitation
Many of us have trouble admitting when we feel like victims—when we feel at the effect of someone, a situation, or the world itself. We believe acknowledging it makes us weak. We equate strength with endurance. We fret about how others have it so much worse. We think it will be completely unproductive. So we tell ourselves, I’m not a victim, even when, deep down, we absolutely feel like one.
That denial keeps us stuck, looping in the same patterns, unable to move forward. But sometimes, the breaking point is the gift—the moment we finally stop gripping so tightly and see what was never meant to be held in the first place.
It’s like a game of Jenga. You pull one block, then another. The tower wobbles, but you steady it. You keep going, convinced you can manage. Until one day, a single block shifts—and the whole thing crashes down.
It feels like devastation. Maybe even like failure.
But the truth? The collapse was inevitable.
The tower was never meant to stand in that shape forever. It was built on compromises, contortions, and quiet tolerations. The fall wasn’t the end—it was the invitation.
Freedom on the Other Side
This is exactly what happened for my client. Once she ran out of ways to keep it all together, something remarkable happened.
Less than two weeks into her leave, she was unrecognizable. The woman drowning in despair was now calm, centered, and radiant. She was sleeping. Moving her body in ways that felt good. No longer running on fumes. Her health had already started to improve.
Space opened. Clarity emerged. She saw how fear had been dictating her every move. The discomfort that became unbearable catapulted her towards change.
She quit her job. She found a new living situation with ease. For the first time, she honored a boundary with her brother.
Witnessing her transformation reminded me of my own, years earlier. Once I allowed my victimhood, I too shifted—far sooner than I expected. Not to force a fix, but to choose a new way of being with it all, exactly as it was.
The moment I stopped resisting my own victimhood, I saw it for what it was: a natural, human response to a life that had become unsustainable. And in embracing it and giving myself grace, I finally stopped fighting reality and started creating something new.
Suddenly, I saw solutions I hadn’t seen before—real solutions. The path forward became clear.
The collapse of my world brought freedom. It was a painful route, but looking back, I hold nothing but gratitude for the reset it gave me. Once the collapse happened, there was nothing left to brace against. The collapse didn’t destroy me—it set me free.
The Practice
Letting yourself admit you feel like a victim doesn’t mean you’re giving up—it means you’re simply acknowledging what’s true for you. It’s what allows your nervous system to exhale, your heart to soften, and your mind to see clearly. This kind of self-honesty is a critical skill. It takes maturity to stop denying or overriding, and to instead meet yourself exactly where you are with compassion. That’s not weakness. That’s wisdom. And it’s often the very move that sets real change in motion.
Try it now
Take a moment to think of a current situation that feels hard or overwhelming—something you might even wish you could escape entirely. Now ask yourself: Are you willing to simply acknowledge that you feel at the effect of this person or situation?
If yes:
- Are you willing to embrace just how deeply you feel at the effect, without judgement or resistance?
- Check: Is approval, security, or control feeling most at threat?
- And finally, are you willing to offer yourself some loving compassion—for being human, having a human experience, and feeling exactly as you do?
If your answer to any of these questions is no, that’s okay. Just take a moment to acknowledge the resistance and recognize the story you’re telling yourself about why it’s not okay to feel what you feel.
Further Resources
- The Change Formula – This is a formula originally created by Richard Beckhard and David Gleicher, refined by Kathie Dannemiller. Learn about how vision, dissatisfaction and resistance play into your relationship with change.
- The Drama Triangle cards – These cards are indispensable for playing with the drama triangle’s roles of hero, victim, and villain. Print out the “bases” to enact your drama patterns.
- Are You Willing to be Undone? Conscious Leadership Group Blog
