In my healing journey, I’ve had to face many truths. But one of the most transformative moments came in 2022. It came not on a stage or in a public success, but in private conversations, therapy sessions, and deep reflection on patterns that kept returning.
At that point, I wasn’t new to healing modalities. I had already written “The Black Foster Youth Handbook,” worked with youth across the country, and advocated for change in the child welfare system. But despite all that, I found myself in yet another emotional spiral which was brought on by unresolved pain in my familial relationships. This wasn’t the first time I’d found myself in a depressive episode tied to relational breakdowns. I began to wonder: Why does this always happen? Why does it always come back to this? What am I missing?
Those questions led me to therapy again. I remember telling my therapist, “There has to be something I’m not seeing. I know there’s a blind spot somewhere.” What she introduced me to that day was something I had never heard of before: the trauma triangle.
Also known as the drama triangle, it describes a cycle that trauma survivors often unconsciously repeat in relationships. The roles, Victim, Rescuer, and Persecutor, create a loop that feels familiar, even when it’s harmful. When I learned about it, it all started to become clear, like when our peripheral vision becomes clearer when we start to focus on something in that vicinity. I didn’t resist the concept; I just hadn’t known there was a name for the roles I kept falling into.
Looking back, I can now see how I’ve unconsciously rotated through all three roles. I often felt like the Victim, someone who is unheard, overwhelmed, or betrayed in my family dynamics. Then, without realizing it, I’d slip into the Rescuer, a rescuer who is trying to hold everything together, fix things, or sacrifice my own needs for someone else’s emotional comfort. And when that didn’t work, and I was exhausted and burned out, I’d distance myself in a way that resembled the Persecutor, someone who executes not in blame or anger, but in silence, shutdown, or deep withdrawal.
The point isn’t that I wanted to stay in any of these roles. The truth is, I didn’t even know I was in them. I had been hardwired through survival to self-sacrifice. That wiring didn’t disappear just because I’d written a book or gained recognition. If anything, those achievements made it easier to overlook the deeper, less obvious cycles still playing out beneath the surface.
What changed wasn’t the pain but my perspective. Once I learned about the trauma triangle, I began to re-examine how it showed up in my life, relationships, and decision-making. I had to ask myself hard but honest questions: Am I trying to earn love again? Am I saying yes when I’m depleted? Am I holding others accountable while letting myself off the hook for neglecting my own needs?
Overcoming the trauma triangle doesn’t mean I never slip into those roles again. It means that I now recognize the signs much faster. I’ve learned that I have the option to say no. I have the option to care for myself, my marriage, and our financial well-being first. I’ve had open, honest conversations with my husband about the patterns I’ve repeated and how I want to move forward differently. I’ve also leaned on conversations with people who’ve built solid boundaries after living with poor ones. And I’ve studied biblical resources like books and scripture that remind me God values wholeness and order, not constant sacrifice to prove our worth.
The process of healing from the trauma triangle isn’t a one-time breakthrough. It is an ongoing act of noticing when I start to slip back into old roles and gently reminding myself that I have other options. The roles may still return from time to time, especially when I feel unsafe, stretched thin, or triggered by old wounds. But now, I don’t have to automatically step into them. I can pause. I can ask better questions. I can choose to show up in a new way.
That’s what healing looks like: not perfection, but consistent presence. It looks like valuing myself and making sure I have a full cup before tending to others’ expectations and needs. It looks like living with more clarity and less compulsion. It looks like remembering that I have agency even when the old mental models and patterns of being try to convince me otherwise.
When I support youth or speak to families and caregivers now, I don’t speak from a place of “having arrived.” I speak from a place of active awareness. I used to see myself as someone things just happened to. Now I see myself as someone who gets to respond with wisdom, clarity, and love.
If you’re reading this and wondering whether the trauma triangle is playing out in your life, I invite you to ask yourself: Am I showing up to fix? Am I shrinking to be accepted? Am I quietly punishing someone because I never voiced my needs? Have I shared my needs and I’m allowing a person to be in an active role in my life who doesn’t really value me?
You don’t have to stay in the loop, and you don’t have to hate yourself for ever being in it. We often create the triangle because we were trying to survive. But once we become aware, we can choose something better. We can heal deeper.
For me, that “better” has looked like boundaries, honest conversations, and grace. It looks like reminding myself daily that I am not here to rescue or be rescued. I’m here to live according to God’s plan and purpose.
And that’s enough.
