exploration of names part II ~ the martyr
We are slowly beginning to enter spring here in the prairies. It feels as though it has taken years for us to get here. It has been a cold, dark, heavy-laden season, with snow piled up around us, and the temperatures staying locked in the deep freeze. The urge to cocoon has been in full effect. As spring approached, we felt no reprieve, it seemed we were hit with even more storms: physical snowstorms and plenty of cultural (global and local) storms to emotionally weather.
It’s a lot that we have been through, and I feel the sense of weariness, the sense of emotional, and spiritual fatigue that is present in everyone I meet. There was a far-off, distant glimmer of hope in knowing that spring would have to arrive eventually, things would have to ease up, eventually, right? But even as we started to feel the small beginnings of spring energy, the thawing of the winter freeze, and the beginning of hope, I was not feeling that energy in my body, in my heart, and in my mind.
It was as though I was still frozen by all the difficulties in my life. On top of the isolation, the global heartbreak, and the winter cold, I had experienced some personal suffering, a death in the family, injustices that needed advocacy, and my own physical health failing, as I was hit with COVID.
As I began to process my sense of deep suffering, my feelings of being downtrodden, it brought up a name that I have come to learn is deeply embedded in my sense of identity.
“The Martyr”
One way that I have learned how to cope with suffering is by clinging to this belief that I am a Martyr. That I am meant to suffer, that I am supposed to take one “for the team”. That I am destined for pain and suffering.
I have made sense of the hardships I endure by believing that I’m meant to suffer, to carry others' suffering, and to sacrifice my own needs for the sake of the common good. I have seen this identity play itself out in work, and in relationship where I have felt that my role was to choose a more difficult path at the expense of my health.
Identifying with this name gave me a way to intellectualize what was happening, a subconscious way to make sense of this confusing world. But at the same time, believing this limited version of the Martyr helps to keep me small, feeling powerless, and expecting the worst to happen. This shadow Martyr believes the only way to feel some sense of recognition is to sacrifice, to stay in difficult situations.
Now, your instinct may be like mine, to try to run away entirely from this name, but what I’m learning is that the healing comes in seeing all sides of this identity. I’ve discovered that most names we may identify with will have their shadow and light sides. I’m learning that the path to loosening those unhealthy thought patterns associated with a name is in discovering the light, in searching out the deepest need or healthy urge.
I’ve learned that this name, Martyr, isn't inherently wrong or bad. Its roots lie in the word witness, to attend or bear testimony. The willingness to act for the sake of a higher cause or truth, despite the risk of sacrifice, must first include a full witnessing. This witnessing will also include the self. The urge underneath this name is to witness myself, to serve myself, to recognize my own life. My martyr want me to see my own power, to validate and attend to myself. When my sense of self feels seen, I can move through any decisions about sacrifice by CHOICE. Healthy martyrdom revolves around a full seeing of the situation, and a choice to receive as well as to give.
My work is to notice when I'm playing out that shadow martyr script and abdicating my power, not truly witnessing the situation to see where I have choice, and to truly see myself and my needs.
I’ve discovered that my Martyr is actually helping me:
To notice where I WANT to step in, and where I feel I am being obliged to
To learn to be in service to myself, to recognize, attend and validate myself
To notice where I have choice to act, and choice to receive
To notice when I’m judging myself for not doing enough for others, and gently come back to witness my own needs
I’m curious, what do you tell yourself? What are the names you call yourself to make sense of what happens to you? What are those underlying scripts that subconsciously guide your reactions to life’s adversities?
Do you believe that you are somehow destined to be the martyr-like me?
Or is it the victim, feeling trapped in your circumstances?
Or the wounded child, feeling silenced, unable to have any effect or power in life?
Or maybe you deal with hardships by escaping emotions, by believing your role is to be the joker, the actor, to avoid pain and emotion at all cost.
Can we take a deeper look at those names to see what light they have to shed? What might be the underlying need, the deep urge be?
And in all of this, to firstly offer ourselves SO MUCH GRACE, that we are doing the best we can!
These names have served us, to help us cope, and it makes perfect sense that we rely heavily on them.
I’d like to offer a guided meditation that has helped me have grace, and compassion for myself, especially when thinking about past suffering in my life. It’s an opportunity to offer love and peace, and to release any suffering that you feel ready to let go of.
Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments below. I’d love to hear what is stirring in you as you think about your names.
- RH
