There’s a moment in almost every conversation – at work, over dinner, in a queue – when the tone shifts. Someone starts explaining why things aren’t working out. The boss, the economy, their upbringing, bad luck. It’s rarely dramatic. It’s familiar. And if you listen closely, it reveals something deeper: a quiet, pervasive habit of giving away responsibility.

A simple definition of a victim is a person who, no matter the situation, believes it is always someone or something else’s fault. Victims do not take responsibility for their own lives.

Being a victim gives you an immediate reason to be depressed – it elicits an “Oh, woe is me…” response in your psyche. To take back control of your life, you have to stop being a victim. But until you acknowledge what you believe you are a victim of, you can’t do that.

A victim is not to blame for anything that is happening, has happened, or might happen to them. It is always someone or something else’s fault. It might be the planets, their parents, friends, the government, the economy, their pets, the weather, their health, their age, their sex, their looks, or their luck, but it is never their fault.

We all know victims. They are everywhere. Victimhood is almost a national pastime.

How many minutes has it been since you heard someone complain about something that wasn’t, of course, their fault?

Everything that doesn’t work out the way a victim wants is caused by outside forces or other people. For example, the reason they can never get into shape is that:

• It is too cold/hot.
• It is raining/dry/snowing.
• They have the wrong genes.
• They are too tired/poor.
• Their health is suspect.
• They are too old/young.
• There is never enough time.
• They are too out of shape/hate exercise of any kind.

Or the reason they aren’t making enough money is:

• They are too honest.
• Everyone they deal with is a crook.
• It’s their company’s/boss’s/parents’ fault.
• The economy is bad.
• Their skin is white/black.
• Favouritism, nepotism, and lack of opportunity.

And a hundred other reasons.

It is never because they:

• Don’t work hard enough.
• Won’t apply themselves properly.
• Avoid uncomfortable tasks like cold calling.
• Waste time like standing outside smoking for an hour a day.
• Refuse overtime.
• Show no interest in their job.
• Won’t take responsibility.

Listen to people’s conversations. Inevitably, and sadly, they often become diatribes about what has been done to them or their families. Others then try to outdo those complaints, recounting even worse injustices. It becomes a competition over who has had the worst luck.

Victims often hold onto irrational beliefs such as:

• You must be nice to everyone, even if they are not nice to you.
• Life is supposed to be filled with unhappiness and uncertainty.
• The small guy never wins.
• This is just the way things are.
• There must be a loser in every interaction.
• Most people are selfish, mean, and disrespectful.
• You should never complain/always complain.
• Take it “like a man” or “like a woman”.

They also avoid standing up for themselves because of fears of: disapproval/rejection/conflict/risk/the unknown/change/confrontation/being overwhelmed/loss of self-respect/making a mistake.

It is rare for someone to admit, “I got myself into this mess, and I will have to get myself out of it,” or simply, “It’s my fault.”

For a long time in my thirties, my stock phrase was, “They just don’t get it.” People were so stupid. Their arguments were illogical, their decisions ridiculous. Why didn’t they just do the obvious and ask me?

Until one day everything came crashing down, and in a moment of clarity, I realised: I just don’t get it. I had been blaming other people, external factors – anything but my own attitudes and actions.

While doing national service in the South African Navy, I had to drill a squad of civilians for a parade. After much frustration, yelling, and repetition, they finally looked presentable. During a final march past, I noticed one man in the back rank completely out of step. Before I could shout, he glanced at me and said, “Officer, can’t you do something about these bloody people? I’m the only one in step ….”

It was an eye-opener. I realised I was the one out of step. Like that marcher, I believed everyone and everything was misaligned, except me.

Being a victim is seductive. It earns sympathy. It removes blame. It gives you an excuse for everything you haven’t achieved—and everything you “would have” achieved, if only circumstances had been different.

But let’s not pretend there are no real victims. The world is full of injustice, and many people suffer genuine harm.

The problem is this: staying in a victim mindset stops you from finding solutions. If everything is someone else’s fault, then there is nothing you can do – and that belief quietly absolves you of responsibility.

“It’s not my fault” – so that’s it, then?

And parents

After all this time, continuing to blame your parents (who were usually doing their best) is often a cop-out. Parenting was a first for them, too.

Your upbringing does shape you. Your opinions, choices, ambitions, and attitudes are influenced by those closest to you – parents, siblings, teachers, and friends. But you always had a choice in how you responded.

Consider identical twin boys raised by an abusive, alcoholic father who beat their mother and neglected the family. Years later, one became a successful businessman; the other became a mirror of his father – violent, drunk, and broken.

A researcher asked them the same question: “Why have you become what you are?”

They gave the same answer: “With a father like mine, how could I not?”