Rising from the Drama Triangle
Last week I stumbled upon Hank, my lovable loaf of a hound pouncing on a tiny baby bird that had fallen from the nest in our backyard. Circling around Hank was the momma bird, chirping away in distress. Horrified I jumped to the rescue, yanking Hank off the baby bird and scooping the fledgling into my hands. The bird settled immediately. I tried to convince Ben to help me stand on a stool in sinking mud to get the bird back to the nest, only to realize the bird had promptly died in my hands. This is a scene that is familiar in my household: me running through the house frenetically trying to rope my husband into helping me rescue my latest baby animal. Here in lies the drama triangle, the entangled dynamic of rescuer, victim and persecutor; a sneaky trio that when ensnared in one, can be all three. Hank, once the victim of my rescuing as a foster rescue dog, became the persecutor in this drama.
In the late 60s psychologist Stephen Karpman introduced the concept of the Drama Triangle, a dynamic triad of three archetypes, the victim, the persecutor, and the rescuer. As a culture, we are enamored, even obsessed, with this triangle, which features in most acclaimed series and films. The dynamic consists of three main players:
The victim, who tends to yield to the pressure of the rescuer or persecutor, taking a stance of “woe is me” and offering excuses over seeking out creative solutions.
The persecutor, who often engages in a blame/defense communication strategy, deflecting blame from themselves onto others.
The rescuer, marred with guilt if they see suffering of the victim and don’t step in; they also may subconsciously feel rewarded or validated for efforts to help.
Archetypes are historic forces, an amalgamation of our own individual and familial histories woven with stories of the broader culture. When we get swept into the archetypal energy of a force much bigger than ourselves, it can be dehumanizing, as we play a role, losing the nuance of our complicated inner life. If we lose sight of our conscious awareness in the present moment, we can also surrender our ability to create a liberated existence. Some people are meant to resurrect themselves. If we jump in and rescue, we can interrupt their journey. As a therapist once told me, “If I didn’t cause it, can’t cure it, can’t control it, but I can contribute to it.” My responsibility is to not be a collaborator in cocreating a subconscious dynamic that is toxic, or codependent.
If we are not conscious of our actions, we can be destructive. If I try to rescue someone else that I see as a victim and deplete myself in the process, I may end up resentful later. Where they once were the victim, now they become the persecutor. Vice versa, if I set a boundary to no longer rescue when I once did, now I may become the persecutor. A person might bounce between two of these roles, or all three; when I play one role, I have the propensity to play all three, and often do.
To break free of the dynamic, we must notice it. Once we stand outside of the dynamic, we are no longer actively participating in cocreating it. Cultivating awareness is key, and choosing to consciously withdraw and rewrite our roles becomes important for stepping back into conscious creation of our reality.
It’s not to say we can’t help others in need; we just want to invite a conscious awareness to our decisions and choices. David Emerald offers an alternative to the drama triangle, in the Empowered Dynamic, which is outcome-focused, versus anxiety-driven. He invites us to shift to the following:
The victim to a creator, in which we consider our strengths and draw on inner resiliency to take responsibility for our actions and seek creative solutions.
The persecutor transmutes to an assertive challenger, where we can voice a discerning opinion without blame or aggression and seek win-win solutions. We can offer and receive constructive criticism in a regulated way.
The rescuer moves to the coach, acknowledging when we engage in rescuing tendencies, we are subconsciously contributing to a dynamic that keeps another trapped in victimhood. We can be a supportive encourager without trying to take on another’s suffering or collaborate in a codependent relationship.
Often when we leave the drama triangle, we are made to be the persecutor of the others still in the triangle, but knowing your truth and operating from a boundaried place for yourself can set you free. Most people want to be acknowledged as a human, full of a complex and rich history, not organized in a binary role of an archetype that loses the nuanced grey.
Inside each person is a roadmap to healing. Our bodies are vehicles that already carry so many tools to help us to be able to tolerate pain and move towards ease. Supporting clients in remembering and accessing those tools means I don’t take on the suffering of another. Rather I move through it with them as we seek the empowered places, embodying our own authority, directing towards resiliency.
Take the example of birth. As a doula supporting a mama through a birth, there is nothing I can do to make that baby come out of my body instead of another’s. The baby comes out of the mama, period. However, in being grounded in my own nervous system, in my own knowing of the way of life, in my own ease, I can help. Literally just by being present to the pain, holding space for the pain, life bursts forth. It’s the same with another’s grief, with another’s divorce, another’s broken arm, another’s job loss, part of being able to truly help, starts with your own being. If we cannot sit with suffering, if we cannot sit with being uncomfortable, it is hard to truly help.
I carry a strong rescuer archetype. My parents have ended up with many of my “rescue animals” and my husband has sat through my distress as finding baby animals and trying to get them into wildlife supports. Now I work to be more conscious and regulated in my decision making, noticing if it’s mine to step in with or not. Recently I heard a Ram Dass talk in which he described doing his morning meditation while his beloved cat brought a lizard to his lap, eating it alive. Ram Dass reflected on his mutual love for the cat, and horror on behalf of the lizard, acknowledging in that moment the perfect circle of life. The cat is just doing cat things. The lizard is doing lizard things. Both are unobstructed by the inner narration of binaries of “good” and “bad,” they are just being themselves in the natural order.
Addressing these archetypal forces within myself has forced me to confront my own dysregulation around sitting with suffering. Suffering is a part of life. Our distress around it can either contribute to making it worse, or help. Part of jumping into a rescuer mode (outside of true trained rescuing professions of crisis hotlines, fire fighters and EMTs, etc), is about trying to restore the calm externally versus internally. Our attachment to comfort, of ourselves and others, can impede our ability to be present to life. If we are so afraid of discomfort, it might impair our ability to exhibit true empathy, without trying to jump in and save or fix. Trying to be good, or striving not to be perceived as “bad,” is a problematic driving intention, because it forgets the fact that we are already inherently good just by being. If a fear of being bad leads me into a rescuer complex, I am forgetting my inner goodness. Being good inside is a birthright, not something defined by our actions.
Here is an invitation. Be at ease within yourself. Allow people to be themselves. Be conscious if you feel called to jump in and help, putting space between the impulse to react and the choice to respond. Don’t take it personally if someone isn’t healing the way you think they should; every creature and person makes it up the mountain in their own perfect time.
Resources:
https://karpmandramatriangle.com/
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jVpfwEg-5bA
