Who decides who the victim is: you, the world, or the quiet truth within you? How many of us suffer not because of what is done to us, but because we do not yet see? And if awareness arrives, do we still get to call it victimhood, or does responsibility take the throne?
Every day, we scroll through social media like courtroom jurors. A headline here, a clip there, and suddenly we know who is oppressed, who is foolish, who deserves sympathy. But what do we really know? Usually, nothing more than crumbs of a life we have never lived.
And still, we judge freely. When you cannot explain your own patterns, when your decisions confuse even you, when life steers you like an untamed wind, then yes, you are a victim. Not of people, but of unawareness. Victimhood begins where awareness is absent and ends where the mind wakes up.
But awareness? Awareness is a revolution. It is the light in the dungeon, the name of the monster, the sudden understanding of why you bleed in the same place repeatedly. Once you recognize the pattern, innocence dies. Pain may stay. Fear may tighten its grip. But the question changes not from why is this happening to me, but why do I remain? Awareness does not free you from pain. It frees you from the illusion that you are powerless. Even ancient history agrees
Take the story of Sisyphus, the ancient king condemned by the gods. We were told he was cursed to push a boulder uphill for eternity, only for it to roll back down each time. A hopeless victim, yes? But in Greek philosophy, a different reading emerged: Sisyphus became aware of his condition. He understood his curse, saw its structure, recognized its meaning and in that awareness, he defied it. His suffering stopped being punishment and became choice, endurance, identity. The tragedy wore a new face. So then we must ask. Was Sisyphus still a victim, or did awareness make him powerful in his own misery?
Sometimes the people we pity know exactly what they are doing. They stay not because they are trapped, but because leaving demands a courage they have not yet befriended. Meanwhile, others who look careless, reckless even, may be victims in the truest sense, are unaware of the chains they drag behind them. Awareness separates helplessness from participation. If you see the fire and remain in the burning house, is it still fate or is it a decision by another name?
What you refuse to change, you are quietly choosing. Not every prison has visible bars. Not every victim is innocent of their own staying. Not every survivor is healed; some are merely conscious. So before we narrate our pain to gain sympathy, before we appoint ourselves martyrs of circumstance, we must ask. Do I truly not know what is happening to me, or do I know, and simply lack the courage to move? Because victimhood ends where awareness begins. The moment you wake up, your story becomes your responsibility. Awareness is not escape; it is the doorway to it.
