Blame. Shame. Spiral. Repeat.

What if healing means stepping off the loop—not fixing yourself?

For years, I thought the goal of healing was to never get triggered.
To be so evolved, so grounded, so “done” that nothing could shake me.
But I’m starting to see it differently now.

It’s not about never being triggered.
It’s about what you do when you are.

The shift started during a tender moment with my partner—not a big blow-up, just a subtle tension that stirred something deeper. I felt my chest tighten. My throat close. That familiar wave of “I’m not being seen.”

At first, I blamed PMS. (Which, let’s be real, is intense and real for me—but later I saw I was using it as an excuse to bypass the deeper discomfort.)

Then came the projection.
I started telling him what he wasn’t doing, how I needed him to show up differently.
Suddenly, I saw myself mirrored in all my past relationships—where my needs always felt too big, too messy, too misunderstood. It hit me—why so many of my past partners felt like they could never get it right. In those moments, I wasn’t seeking connection—I was seeking confirmation of an old wound.

After that, I spiraled into my childhood:
My dad never really believed in anything that came from my heart.
I often felt like what I had to say didn’t matter.
Like I didn’t matter.

I was blaming everyone and everything else and not taking any accountability. I was finding every excuse I could to avoid the shame that came anyway—because I was blaming instead of accepting. My shame monster began again: “What’s wrong with me? Why do I always fall into these cycles? Why do I screw everything up?” Catastrophizing, blind to the truth of the situation.

As I reflected in the days after, I saw my cycle more clearly than ever.
I realized how I’ve perpetuated victimhood for years—blinded by blame and drowning in shame.

Blame. Story. Shame. Repeat.

And underneath it all?
A younger part of me aching to be seen.

The spiral wasn’t healing.
It was just keeping me stuck in an old identity:
The girl who is always too much.
The woman who always screws it up.
The victim of her emotions.

And I suddenly saw it.
I was trying to prove why I felt bad, instead of learning how to care for the part of me that did.
I wasn’t practicing self-compassion—I was practicing self-abandonment through blame.

That realization changed everything.

Not in a dramatic, lightning-bolt kind of way.
But in a quiet, soul-deep way.
Like an inner voice whispering, You’re ready now. You don’t have to do it this way anymore.

So I started practicing something different. And it’s been changing my life.

Before we dive into how to shift from victimhood and feel more ease and empowerment in your life, it feels important to say that, depending on where you are in your healing journey, I do believe there’s value in understanding your deepest wounds and honoring your anger and grief. I believe that feeling the pain of your inner child is a necessary part of the process.

Here’s the new way I’m meeting myself (and my triggers):

1. Pause the stories.
   Stop trying to figure out who’s to blame.
   Blame keeps you stuck. Compassion sets you free.

2. Name what you’re feeling.
   Even if it’s not based in current reality, it’s still real to the part of you that’s hurting.
   “I feel like I don’t matter. I feel afraid I’ll be abandoned.”

3. Validate your experience.
   “It makes sense that I’m feeling this way. This pain has been with me a long time.”

4. Come back to the moment.
   Ask: What’s true right now?
   In my case, my partner wasn’t dismissing me—he was asking questions to support me. But I couldn’t feel that until I stepped out of the old story.

5. Give yourself what you need.
   That day, I placed my hands over my heart and whispered,
   “I see you. You are important. Your dreams matter. I love you.”

6. Do something nourishing.
   Walk, bathe, dance, watch your favorite movie.
   Let your inner child feel held.

When I was able to do this, I was able to see that my partner had actually said in that conversation that he was impressed with my dream and the plan I had to bring it to life. What felt like him questioning and invalidating me was him actually showing support. He was asking questions to help me see how to make this dream a reality.

And by acknowleding these parts of myself and giving them what they needed, I was no longer making him responsible for me feeling like my dreams are valid and beautiful.

Before I reflected and moved through this process, I was ready to run from him, fearing that yet again, I would not be met in the ways I needed in a relationship. But by returning to him after reflection and taking responsibility for my feelings, we were able to move through this hurdle with ease and deepen our connection and commitment, stepping into more intimacy.

I used to think this kind of shift required years of processing.
But sometimes, it’s just one brave moment of presence.

And no, I don’t do this perfectly. But I do it more often.
And that has made all the difference.

This isn’t about bypassing pain.
It’s not about blaming yourself instead of others.
It’s about choosing self-responsibility with love.
It’s about moving out of spirals and into healing.

I’ve spent nearly 15 years on this journey.
And yet, this moment felt like a true beginning.

Not because I stopped being triggered.
But because I stopped abandoning myself when I was.

If you’re caught in old cycles… if you’re spiraling in blame or shame… if you feel stuck, again, despite all the healing work you’ve done.

You are not alone.
And you are not broken.
Maybe, like me, you’re just being invited to take a different kind of step forward.

Not deeper into the past.
But closer to yourself.

Let this be your soft permission slip to meet yourself with more gentleness.
To stop proving your pain—and start tending to it.

You deserve that kind of love. Especially from yourself.

You are not alone. If you're looking for a space to feel seen, heard, understood and supported, follow my blog to receive an invitation to the Self-Love Sanctuary. A place where you can retreat to the safety of being held in loving compassion.

Love Always,
Becca