“The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change.”
— Carl Rogers
Last week, we explored what its like to navigate being ‘the responsible one’; including the weight of others’ labels and expectations, the grief of shedding old roles, and the groundedness that can come with unknowingness. (Thanks so much for the wonderful feedback on the first ‘Letters’ edition - and remember you can submit a situation or query anonymously for me to explore, here.) I want to go a little deeper on one of the concepts we explored this week before we get to another letter next week.
A deeper dive into the Karpman Triangle
Last week, as part of examining our relationship with expectations, I brought up the Karpman triangle, which I’ve been enjoying learning about recently. This drama triangle was first conceptualised by Stephen Karpman in the 1960s, as a framework to identify repetitive dysfunctional roles that people can tend to fall into (and, in many cases, bounce between) in times of emotional turbulence, conflict or stress. The role is often a ‘script’ we’ve adopted in our formative years to help us cope; perhaps it provides some level of comfort or protection for us, to justify ourselves in some way, to avoid change or addressing something we don’t want to address.
Last week, I spoke in particular about the ‘rescuer’ role, which involves a pattern of focusing on fixing and helping others. This person can become fixated with being needed by others, to the point where they deflect and avoid other priorities or issues. If this is a default pattern or ‘script’ for someone, perhaps it manifests in the creation of the ‘responsible one’ expectation across our different life domains. In the context of last week’s letter, I wrote, “Perhaps we convince ourselves that we can’t engage with internal emotional unrest, challenge, grief, or stress, because too many people rely on us to help them instead. We shove our own stuff aside to hold it together for everyone else.”
Thanks so much for reading my newsletter! I hope you like the new format. I don’t know what I’m doing any more than the next person, so for me, it is more about reflecting and exploring a situation or concept together than offering any kind of concrete answers.
Would you like to submit a situation or question for the ‘Letters’ series? Have an aspect of the human experience you’d like to explore in more depth? Submit anonymously below.
However, there are also two other roles present in the Karpman triangle, and they might resonate with you or those you care about. In sum, the three roles are:
The Rescuer.
As discussed, this is the person who is constantly looking after, fixing, and saving everyone else, to the point where they are susceptible to overextending, or consistently avoiding introspection. At the core of the rescuer role is comfort in being needed.
I really wanted to offer some characters from popular culture to help exemplify some of these ideas, but if you know me well, you know I am not very up with recent popular culture. So, the best I can do is Sex and the City (sorry). I think we could consider Charlotte as someone who demonstrates some rescuer tendencies — Always resolute on doing what it takes to ‘fix’ the situation (e.g. with her romantic partners); offering emotional support and reassurance that there were happy endings coming for everyone; and stepping in to do things for others when they were in strife.
In a coaching or development context, this pattern might result in resistance by way of beliefs like ‘I don’t have time to work on myself, I’m too critical to step away from the team’. Self-development and change might feel like more of a luxurious indulgence than an easily accessible pathway. In leadership, the dysfunctional role might also result in an overly controlling approach and a disempowering style where the leader is so involved that people don’t feel like they are developing, being challenged, or building autonomy.
The Victim.
“I couldn’t help but wonder… why does this always happen to me?” The victim role is as it sounds; a default dysfunctional pattern of, when activated, helplessness and powerlessness. Maybe, by disempowering the self in the first place, we can avoid facing those kinds of situations where we might experience the potential for failure or loss of control. I would argue that this is a Big (heh) default for Carrie Bradshaw, who often tells her story as though she’s a passive experiencer of it more than an active agent.
In a coaching or development context, this pattern might present where the person misses the trees for the forest — the issue or task can feel so big and overwhelming that they don’t know where to begin, or how to break a problem down into something smaller and more addressable. In leadership, it might also manifest as passive-aggression, or sympathy-seeking over directness (e.g., every time an issue comes up, a leader talks about how no one understands the kind of pressures they’re under, rather than addressing the issue).
The Persecutor.
This is a default pattern of attack and criticism when threatened. Aggression is the main method for self-protection in this role, perhaps providing some cushioning around vulnerability or the possibility of being seen as ‘less than’ in some way. In SATC, I think both Samantha and Miranda show some persecutor tendencies; snapping back in conflict rather than delving into the problem, and in some cases reverting to intimidation.
In a coaching or development context, this pattern might emerge through blanket dismissiveness (“I don’t need to be here, you don’t have anything to offer me”), criticism and blame. In leadership, maybe it also manifests in leading through fear, being overly demanding, or hyper-critical under the guise of having ‘high standards’.
The many hats we wear
Perhaps it’s helpful to reflect on these hats above, and how and when they might resonate with us. If you’re like me, you looked at the list above and resonated with each of them in some way. While we might be inclined to default into one of the specific ‘scripts’ above during times of uncertainty — perhaps based on dynamics we had or beliefs we otherwise embedded somewhere in childhood — it’s also quite natural that we might bounce around between these. Importantly, while these are dysfunctional roles, they’re also there because at some point, in some way, they served us: They’re strategies we have adopted somewhere along the way to help us cope with tough stuff.
I find them most helpful because they offer a new name and frame of reference to patterns we might experience, and this can be a nice starting point for reflection, understanding, and growth.
Stepping outside of the drama triangle
I spoke a lot last week about change, uncertainty, and unknowingness, and how we might work through some of the new space emergent from shedding an old role or label. I wrote, “It might be that, as we shed an old role, we find ourselves sitting in a new space of self-uncertainty. We have created that, and it’s okay to sit with it. Actually, I think it can be quite powerful. Unknowingness can be grounding — rather than clutching on to familiarity, it gives us a new space to pause before jumping into the next label or expectation. It creates an opportunity for stillness and curious observation and allows a new sense of self to emerge without pressure. New interests, relational dynamics, and dimensions of who we are; what we like, what we’re good at, what we give to the world, and how we connect with it, probably won’t be able to emerge unless there’s some open space for that to happen, right?”
In terms of moving past the triangle, Karpman talks about how we might move from the ‘drama triangle’ into the ‘winner’s triangle’, by embracing a healthier, better functioning version of each role. This means that the Victim draws the power from their default tendencies by demonstrating vulnerability, asking for assistance when they need it and ultimately recognising and owning their power. The Rescuer draws from that powerful inclination to help by supporting others in an empowering and nurturing way, rather than a suffocating one (and becomes the caring person who presumably also has time for themselves). And the Persecutor uses their capacity for strength in a positive, assertive way; helping to challenge others and striving for growth.
Of course, all of these things are easier said than done. Presence, self-observation, and ongoing critical reflection are all really helpful for any change, but perhaps particularly when catching ourselves in or helping others work through some of these dysfunctional patterns. Over time, we can work to step outside of these subconscious and often long-held scripts and, hopefully, expand our ability to engage more meaningfully and authentically with others and ourselves.
Thanks so much for reading my newsletter! I hope you like the new format. I don’t know what I’m doing any more than the next person, so for me, it is more about reflecting and exploring a situation or concept together than offering any kind of concrete answers.
Would you like to submit a situation or question for the ‘Letters’ series? Have an aspect of the human experience you’d like to explore in more depth? Submit anonymously below.
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I mostly write about things I find interesting, and often my writing is a way of clarifying my own learnings and insights. Any views expressed in this newsletter are my own and are not affiliated with any other institution, entity or person. Also, these newsletters contain generalised ideas, and none of this material constitutes professional or specific advice of any kind.