Diagnosing martyrdom

While I walked my dog, my next column appeared out of nowhere.

I heard a loud voice.

“How do you expect me to get out?” she complained. “You parked

right next to the tree.”

I looked up. There was a station wagon parked by the curb. An

older man and his grown son were standing next to the car with the

doors still open.

“I’ll move the car,” the man offered.

“No, no, I’ll make it,” his wife groaned.

I looked for the tree. And there it was in all its splendor, all

four feet of it. Anchored by a stake on either side, it looked more

like a willowy bush than a tree.

Both men stood stock still while Mom pushed the front passenger

door open. She was holding flowers, which she had to juggle to

negotiate the exit.

“Nobody has to come around to help me,” she said. “I’ve got it

covered.”

She skipped a few beats and then added: “Too late now.”

Honestly, I am not making this up. I couldn’t make this up. It

would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so pathetic.

So what’s going on here? I’d say, a lot of martyr with a dash of

victim thrown in for good measure. Not an inviting combo.

Both men and women can be martyrs, but there are many more female

ones, given gender socialization and the fact that more women are

caregivers. So to talk about it here, I’m going to use feminine

pronouns.

A martyr sees herself as a good person, trying hard to do for

others. A martyr gives and gives, often at her own expense, and to

the point where she gives out. She then feels entitled to be

appreciated for her gargantuan efforts. Unfortunately, the amount of

appreciation she gets is usually not commensurate with the amount of

effort she feels she put forth, so she ends up feeling hurt and

unappreciated. She then blames the other person for treating her

badly and hurting her feelings even though he or she didn’t ask to

receive to the degree the martyr gave.

The theme is sacrifice and the mantra is: “Look at all I do for

you. And what thanks do I get?”

Giving well is an art form. It means you give with an open heart,

because it feels good, without needing acknowledgment. This requires

constant assessment and reassessment, a shuttling back and forth

between seeing what’s needed and checking in with yourself to stay

with what feels right to you and give within those bounds. It’s easy

to err -- to give too little or too much -- but the martyr always

errs by giving too much.

Martyrs see themselves as selfless, as willing to bend over

backward to do for others. They give way beyond healthy boundaries,

to the point that they give out and then feel taken advantage of when

the other person is not appreciative enough or doesn’t reciprocate

adequately.

When someone gives in this way, it’s not giving. It is not the

selfless act it appears to be. It’s actually demanding because the

martyr is so dependent on the other person’s response. And it is in

this way that martyrs are selfish. It’s real tricky and a paradox,

because it looks one way but is actually another -- the act of giving

appears unselfish and yet the martyr exacts a dear price for her

seemingly generous actions.

What the martyr doesn’t do is take responsibility. She doesn’t

have to give so much. It may not feel like a choice, but it is.

So, back to the overheard conversation. Mom needed to make up her

mind. Instead of complaining and then persevering anyway, she needed

either to ask for the car to be moved or to deal with the

inconvenience without complaining. To complain and broadcast the fact

that she was put out served no purpose other than to highlight the

fact that she was being treated badly by her husband but would

sacrifice anyway. In true martyr style.

And what about the man? Doesn’t he have a part in this, too? You

can bet he does ... and it was payback time. Not in your face

payback. More passive-aggressive payback. I don’t buy for one minute

that he didn’t see the little tree when he parked the car. I’d guess

he didn’t care all that much. A passive-aggressive strategy works

better than a direct approach with a martyr, because then he can just

claim he didn’t do it intentionally and doesn’t know what she’s

getting so upset about. After all, he did offer to move the car.

Heaven forbid, he should ever admit to himself that at times he is

the uncaring lout that she accuses him of being.

As Sonny and Cher sang, “And the beat goes on.”

* MAXINE COHEN is a Corona del Mar resident and a marriage and

family therapist practicing in Newport Beach. She can be reached at

[email protected] or at (949) 644-6435.