Brazil Breaks Free: No Longer Victim of Her Own Story

A few years ago, the author met an old friend and mentor, referred to as Ray, at a coffee shop. The author had recently become a director after working as a counselor. The author told Ray about the struggle of moving from a role built on listening and connecting to one that involved managing budgets, writing evaluations, and holding people accountable.

The author said, “I don’t know what I’m doing, and I feel like I’m bothering people every time I ask for help.” Ray listened and said it sounded tough. The author continued, adding that people criticized him for being too nice and not being strong enough on policy. The author told Ray he was not sure how much longer he could continue in the role.

After the author finished, Ray said he noticed something. He told the author that he was seeing himself as a victim, as if life was happening to him and he was waiting for it to stop. The author sat there, hoping for advice, but Ray did not offer any. The author drove home with a headache, telling himself it was not fair and that Ray had not heard everything.

The word “victim” stayed with the author. He could not sleep that night. He turned the word over in his mind. He started to see something true in it. He realized he had been holding onto grievances without expressing them and had been quietly accumulating a sense of being wronged without trying to change things.

The author had a picture in his mind of wearing a wooden sign around his neck with the word “Victim” on it. He knew he was not being punished by someone else. Some part of him was choosing to wear it. That image changed something.

The author started asking himself what word he did want to carry. He ran through words like hero, victor, agent, creator, survivor, and overcomer. None of them were what he needed. Then a word came to him: “Steward.” He looked it up and learned that at its root, it meant the keeper of the house, someone trusted to look after what belonged to a larger story than their own.

The author learned that a steward takes care of what has been given to them, stays present with intention, and recognizes that what they have been given, including the difficult parts, is worth caring for. A victim is defined by what has been done to them. A steward is defined by what they choose to do with it.

Years later, the challenges of leadership remain. A few weeks ago, a staff member asked for a formal meeting. She told the author that the flexibility he was giving others was making her job harder. She said it did not feel fair when people did not follow through and there were no consequences.

The author wanted to respond by explaining that he had been trying to ease pressure. He recognized that this was the victim talking. He decided that a steward does not protect himself from hard feedback. He told the staff member she was right and that he was grateful she came to him directly. He said her feedback would help him hold clearer limits.

The author wrote that the movement from victim to steward is an ongoing process. He still stumbles and feels the sign settling back around his neck. He used to experience the difficulty of leadership as something happening to him. What shifted was the recognition that this season of his life was asking something of him, not punishing him.

The author has thought about stewardship a lot. It means stopping merely surviving life and starting to tend to it. He wrote that Ray knew him well enough to tell him an uncomfortable truth. Sometimes people need the sign around their neck pointed out by someone standing close enough to see it.

The author is not carrying that sign anymore, or at least, he is trying not to. On days when he feels it settling back around his neck, he remembers the word that replaced it: steward. Someone who tends to what they have been given. Someone who asks what life is expecting of them, listens, and answers the call.