The Age of Victimhood

Once upon a time, there was a time where victimhood was simply a circumstance. It was something that happened to you through a particular circumstance. Roll the clock forward a couple of decades, and we are now firmly ensconced in a place where victimhood is something a person is.

Modern culture has quietly reshaped how we understand victimhood. While its true definition has never truly changed, the way we relate to it has. What was once ‘a state of harm that called for compassion, care, and meaningful remedy’ has increasingly become something else entirely.

Today, victimhood is often treated as a social identity — a moral shield that can deflect criticism and, in some cases, it can give the user a source of influence or power. This shift carries major consequences. It risks overshadowing the voices of those who have genuinely suffered and weakens our collective ability to heal, to debate honestly, and to move forward together.

We must always remember that victims exist. We cannot and should not ever deny that. Trauma is real. Injustice is real. Abuse and violence are real. Financial injustices are real. I could go on. Real life trauma is etched into humanity. If we were to deny that it would not only be cruel but inhuman. However, victimhood is used by some to build their entire identity. When it becomes a badge to wear continually as opposed to a chapter in life, the very pain that the “victim” is trying to escape may trap them.

At its core, victimhood is about a lack of power. Our instinctive response to victims is empathy—but somewhere along the way, that empathy became something that could be used. Suffering stopped being something to be understood and became something to be leveraged. It turned into social currency. A badge of moral superiority. A loud, performative ‘look at what I’m enduring.’ And anyone who dared to question it—no matter how reasonably—was swiftly branded cruel, heartless, or lacking compassion, regardless of context or truth.

In a climate like this, this claimed victimhood gained a badge of honour and became untouchable. It would end a conversation. Behaviour that would normally be criticised would be excused. There would be no accountability. Personal responsibility for a situation would be reframed as blame to another person. The victimhood status is preserved, polished and rolled out to be repeated every time something doesn’t go the right way.

While everyday society makes the claim to more compassion, it is actually less resilient. Anyone that disagrees with the ‘victim’ is recast as an oppressor, someone dangerous. Trauma language is applied in such broad brushstrokes that the meaning is lost. Social media has accelerated this. Platforms are a constant visual of emotional intensity as someone disagrees with something or someone. Personal disclosures and vulnerabilities are posted in such a way that pain becomes a performance. The greater the performance, the greater the clicks and likes. The greater the clicks and likes, the more attention the “victimhood performer” gets. Victimhood becomes content. Content becomes identity. This takes away from the genuine victims in life. It diminishes their suffering.

When an online identity is built on victimhood, letting go of the “pain and suffering” changes an identity. Who am I without my story of harm? What happens when sympathy fades? What if recovery means no longer being special, seen, or validated? These questions can keep people emotionally anchored to their wounds long after the danger has passed.

In victimhood language matters. “Triggered,” or “unsafe” are just two. While once used to describe a specific psychological reality, now they are used almost as punchline. Why? To shut down any discomfort that the person displaying their victimhood might face. A person displaying victimhood may want to shut down awkward questions about something that would ruin their narrative so they will tell you they are “triggered.”

This blurring creates confusion, especially for those with genuine trauma who now find their experiences diluted or disbelieved. When victimhood is everywhere, actual victims struggle to be heard. When victims struggle to be heard, help cannot get to them.

There is also an uncomfortable truth rarely acknowledged regarding victimhood. It is very often weaponised, used to manipulate and control a narrative into something that the ‘victimhood performer” requires. Imagine your best friend positions themselves as perpetually wronged. You will by default be on the cast list as an oppressor. It doesn’t matter what you say. It doesn’t matter what you do. It doesn’t matter what your intent it. There is no context to anything. The nuances of every situation are simplified. Wrongdoer v wronged. Victim v oppressor.

A weaponised victimhood relationship has the potential to damage everything it touches. It erodes trust between people that may have been friends for many years. It turns conversations into competitions, over who had the worst life or suffered more. Weaponised victimhood becomes its own tribe, a group defined by wounds and not by values.

With every conversation about victimhood, we must remember always that none of these conversations lessen the reality of suffering. It does challenge a part of it though. I ask this question. “Is remaining a victim the same as being consistently honoured for it?” This is a deep question and one with many answers that must be sorted for yourself. But I will say this, think about compassion. True compassion given by someone does not keep people in their worst life experiences. It aids them in moving past them. Empathy should equal empowerment.

Look through history books and you will see how societies have survived great trauma. Loss in war is noted by balancing an element of a somber remembrance with forward motion in life. Injustice and loss are acknowledged without making them an identity. When you look at today, it is not that we have forgotten how to care about harm or that we care too much, it is that we have forgotten how to surpass it.

There is courage in refusing to be defined by what has hurt you. Does it mean forgetting or minimising the past? No, of course not. It just means that you have recognised that what has hurt you is part of your life, not the sum of your life. It is about reclaiming your life. There is an old saying that says something about “life being like a book. If a bad chapter happens, turn the page.” That is the way I look at life.

If something bad has, or is happening in life, it is good to remember that healing is never linear. The perfect analogy for this is the loss of my husband. It involved sadness, anger, grief, tears, exhaustion, forgetfulness, and complete lifestyle changes. I had to think to myself, ‘Will I live from this?’ or ‘Will life continue past it?’ Victimhood is the first one. Growth and acknowledgement are the second ones. Of course, my life continued past it.

We need to learn to make a space for recovery, the narrative of it. We need to understand the language that says, “it happened, it mattered, but I’m moving past it.” We need to ensure that victims are allowed have their strength valued without their vulnerability being criticised.

Victimhood should not ever be defined as a life sentence. It isn’t that. It should be defined as recognising harm and a jumping off point for repair of a life. When society confuses compassion with permanence, it risks trapping people in identities built on pain rather than possibility.

The most radical act in an age obsessed with victimhood may be this: to honour suffering without worshipping it, to acknowledge wounds without wearing them as armour, and to choose a future that is not dictated by the worst thing that ever happened.

Because while pain shapes us, it does not have to own us.