You are not a Victim

You have just made very bad choices.

There's a particular type of tragedy I keep witnessing: women who walk willingly into their own destruction and then claim victimhood. Let me tell you about Martha.

In an unexpected turn of events, my friend Martha's sister messaged me on Facebook. Yes, Martha - the same friend who thinks the broke taxi driver, twelve years her senior, who promised her a magical life after knowing her for just one month, is her soulmate. Despite the unified disapproval of her friends and family, she remains with him.

Her sister Constance reached out to check if I'd spoken to Martha recently. As we exchanged war stories about our failed attempts to get Martha to leave, Constance revealed something Martha had conveniently hidden from me: her Prince Charming still lives with his mother. Constance even offered to pay for Martha's flight to Spain, giving her a chance to stay with their aunt and figure out her life. Martha's response? She couldn't possibly travel without him. This intervention wasn't just coming from Constance - their mother, Martha's best friend from college, her pastor, and even her cousin have all begged her to leave. Yet she chooses to stay. She values this man - whom none of us have ever seen or heard from - more than her own life. When she's inevitably abused or left as a single mother, she'll probably spin a tale about being a victim who was coerced or manipulated. No. That's not what's happening here. She CHOSE and is still CHOOSING him. She's actively choosing her own demise.

Speaking of women choosing their destruction, let me tell you about Betty. In my family compound, there are two men: one shorter and developmentally stunted but hardworking, who gets along well with everyone. The other is taller, broke, and has severe anger issues. During my last holiday home, I witnessed the taller one beat up the shorter one twice. Yet Betty, an objectively beautiful woman with options, has decided to attach herself to the taller one. She's performing all the duties of a good wife, even as we speak. I warned her explicitly about his violent tendencies last time I was home. She listened to everything I had to say, nodded along, and here she is a year later - holding my father's hand through his cancer treatment, still determined to prove she'd be a great wife to this broke, abusive man.

Martha and Betty are just two examples from my immediate circle who have laid their lives on the altar of relationships. When it all inevitably collapses, I wonder what narrative they'll construct. Will they acknowledge their choices, or will they wrap themselves in the comfortable blanket of victimhood?

Let's be crystal clear: in the real world, you are responsible for your own life. No one is here to make things easier for you. There's a significant contingent of women who want absolutely no responsibility for their own decisions. They'll soon realize that the men they're running to for salvation are themselves in survival mode, incapable of making better choices. But by then, it will be too late.

The hard truth is that victimhood often isn't something that happens to you - it's something you choose through a series of deliberate, terrible decisions. The hard truth is that victimhood often isn't something that happens to you - it's something you choose through a series of deliberate, terrible decisions. Unless you're a child born from incest in war-torn Sudan, or a victim of circumstances truly beyond your control, most of us are the architects of our own demise. We craft it meticulously through ignorance or poor choices. But here's the thing: once you're an adult, ignorance is no longer an acceptable excuse.

As an individual, you must come to terms with this reality. The path forward isn't through blind devotion to another person's chaos - it's through self-mastery and self-actualization. Every woman must ask herself: am I building my life around my own growth and potential, or am I using a relationship as a substitute for personal development? The women who choose the latter inevitably find themselves playing the victim in a tragedy of their own writing.

The solution isn't complicated, but it requires something many women seem terrified of: taking complete responsibility for your own life. Stop waiting for someone else to write your story. Stop hoping that devotion to a broken situation will somehow fix it. Start viewing yourself as the protagonist of your own life, not a supporting character in someone else's narrative.

Best,
Coffy.