Olalekan Adebumiti
We like to play the victim. It feels safe there. It feels righteous.
We tell the story of our lives where things happened to us, where we were the innocent bystanders in a series of unfortunate events.
But if you want to grow, like really grow, the kind of growth that rips the floorboards up, you have to look in the mirror and admit that sometimes, you were the villain.
Sometimes, you were the one holding the match.
We are the masters of our own misery.
We know where the master key is, but we swallow it because the cage feels familiar.
The most heartbreaking realisation isn’t that people hurt us; it’s that we participated in our own destruction.
We knew we were hurt, but we didn’t want healing; we wanted the comfort of the pain we knew.
To break the cycle, you have to get uncomfortable.
You have to confess these dark, quiet truths to your past self.
1. “I Knew It Was Wrong, and I Did It Anyway”
We like to pretend we were blindsided. But were we?
Or did we hear that quiet whisper in our gut on the very first date, the very first meeting, the very first lie? We did.
We heard it loud and clear.
And we suffocated that voice.
We chose the thrill over the truth.
Confess that you weren’t tricked; you were willing.
2. “I Liked the Chaos Because Peace Bored Me”
This cuts to the soul.
Sometimes, we choose toxic partners or chaotic situations because healthy love feels suspicious.
Peace feels like boredom to a nervous system addicted to adrenaline.
Confess that you started the fight.
Confess that you pushed the good people away because they didn’t make you suffer enough to feel “alive.”
You were addicted to the struggle, and you called it passion.
3. “I Stayed Because I Didn’t Think I Deserved Better”
We say we stayed for “love,” or for the “kids,” or because “it’s complicated.”
The ugly, naked truth is often much simpler: You didn’t leave because you didn’t think there was anything better waiting for you.
You accepted crumbs because you didn’t think you deserved the loaf.
Confess that your lack of self-worth was the glue that held you in hell.
4. “I Used My Trauma as a Weapon”
We act as the jury, sentencing others for not understanding our pain.
But how often did you use your past as an excuse to be cruel?
How often did you say, “I’m just damaged,” to avoid taking responsibility for your actions?
Confess that you let your wounds become weapons, and you cut innocent people with the shards of your own broken heart.
5. “I Could Have Healed Sooner, But I Liked the Attention of Being Broken”
When you are broken, people are gentle with you.
They check on you.
They lower their expectations.
There is a twisted luxury in being the “sad one.”
Getting better means expecting more of yourself.
Confess that you lingered in the sadness because stepping into the light meant you had to stand up on your own two feet again.
We are both the lock and the key. The undoing and the becoming. Admit it. Own it. And then, finally, let it go.
