What Does a “Victim” Look Like?
For as long as I’ve been writing about my life, I’ve been accused of “playing the victim.” The phrase gets tossed around like a weapon, meant to silence, to shame, to make me second‑guess my own voice. But what does a victim actually look like? And why is the word so often used to dismiss rather than to understand?
The Stereotype vs. The Reality
When people say “victim,” they often imagine someone weak, helpless, or defined only by their wounds. They picture someone who refuses to move forward, who clings to pain as an identity. That’s the stereotype.
But the reality is more complicated. A victim is simply someone who has been harmed, wronged, or mistreated. That’s it. Being a victim is not a personality trait—it’s a circumstance. And circumstances can change.
“Being a victim is not the same as living in victimhood.”
What I Refuse
I refuse to let the label “victim” be used as a cage. Yes, I have been harmed. Yes, I have been silenced, excluded, and erased. That makes me a victim of those actions. But it does not make me powerless.
I refuse to let others weaponize the word to erase my testimony. Naming harm is not wallowing. Bearing witness is not weakness.
What a Victim Really Looks Like
A victim looks like someone who survived nights of nightmares and still got up in the morning.
A victim looks like someone who lost family connection but still chooses to love fiercely.
A victim looks like someone who was told to stay silent and instead picked up a pen.
A victim looks like me.
And maybe, a victim looks like you, too—if you’ve ever been hurt, dismissed, or told your pain wasn’t valid.
From Victim to Survivor
The truth is, we all carry moments of victimhood in our lives. But what defines us is not the harm itself—it’s what we do with it. I choose to transform my pain into testimony, my grief into resilience, my silence into words that cannot be erased.
So yes, I have been a victim. But I am also a survivor, a witness, and a builder of something stronger than what tried to break me.
Closing
The next time someone tries to shame me with the word “victim,” I will remember this: a victim is not a caricature of weakness. A victim is a human being who endured harm. And when that harm is spoken aloud, when it is transformed into witness and resilience, the word loses its sting.
Because what a victim really looks like is someone who lived through it—and is still here, still rising, still becoming.
The Reframe
A victim does not look like the caricature people use to dismiss or silence. A victim does not look like someone wallowing in self‑pity. A victim does not look like a stereotype.
Instead, a victim looks like anyone who has endured harm — and what matters most is how they rise, heal, and transform beyond it.
Playing the Victim vs. Breaking the Cycle
When people accuse me of “playing the victim,” I have to pause and ask: what does that even mean?
A person who is playing the role of victim usually does not move forward. They don’t go back to school. They don’t show up for work. They don’t fight for good grades, or push themselves to grow. They don’t advocate for change that outlives their own pain.
But that is not me.
A cycle breaker is not a victim. A cycle breaker is the one who goes back to school despite the odds, who works two jobs to stay afloat, who earns the grades no one expected, who advocates for systemic change so others don’t have to suffer the same way.
And yet, cycle breakers are rarely celebrated. More often, they are ostracized, excluded, and scapegoated. They are told they are “too much,” “too loud,” or “too dramatic” — not because they are weak, but because their strength exposes what others would rather keep hidden.
“A cycle breaker is not a victim. They are the proof that survival can become transformation.”
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