Without intending to be melodramatic, my working to accept boundaries and time limits that did not fulfill my needs would make schedules and emotions run more smoothly for other people - and since I do not like drama and I avoid conflict, I do get some pay off for that choice. In my mind, I was Spock choosing to die in The Wrath of Khan, confident that his choice would ensure a better life for many people. Despite no longer being Christian, the early training remains. 1 Corinthians 13 taught that love does not keep score, that it goes to any length to serve the Beloved. Like many well-trained enablers, saviors, and martyrs, I knew the literature: my Sunday school teachers and grandmother often reminded me that the last would be first in Heaven (Matthew 19:30, Mark 10:31, and Luke 13:30 - when three of the Gospels say the same thing, it’s a home run homily). If it was a decision that I owned and choose, there was nothing to hold over anyone else. If I was making a decision for the greater good - the good of the many - I was accepting it is logical and fair to do what benefits the most people.
In my experience, garden variety martyrs hold their sacrifice over other people’s heads, expecting acknowledgement that they suffer, or at least take back seat, for the greater good. Not being bitter about my choices has been a priority. I (try to) articulate my needs and make sure I have as much self-indulgence as I do sacrifice, which my mother still cannot do. I had seen first-hand that enabling can grow into bitter martyrdom, and I did not want that to happen to me. My mother, a loving, giving woman, developed a tinge of bitterness in her old age about situations where she made unappreciated sacrifices. Of course not.Īfter years of uncomfortable self-examination, I understand that the “be a good helper” and “do unto others” training of my childhood contributed to my morphing into an enabler, at least for some people in some situations. But being a martyr - no, that was not me. Was I being a martyr? I was trying to do what was best for everyone involved, but I knew it was not what I wanted.
“Don’t be a martyr,” I was recently told during an uncomfortable discussion about time and priorities.
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