I have a lot of experience dealing with martyrs because I am one. I am that mum who takes on too much and then self-flagellates by taking on even more. I am the mum who says, “oh, it’s no bother” when clearly it is very much a bother. I am a martyr mum.
Does this sound familiar: “OH, don’t worry, kids, MUM will pick up your shoes, seeing as it’s the maid’s day off and all.” Or how about this: “Yes, I sympathise with your lack of sleep, I haven’t slept since 2004 and even then I had to drug myself with five chardys, half a bottle of port and a Baileys.” Or even this: “Enjoy your night out with the boys, honey… you always do!”
The shrill “I’llllll do it”, the wounded, “Am I the only one around here who….”, the bitter, “I must be mad to have taken this on!” Martyrs are everywhere you look, flogging themselves tirelessly in the mines of self-sacrifice.
Historically, martyrs are amazing, but everyday martyrs are so annoying, right? They drip passive-aggressiveness and leave steaming blobs of self-pity wherever they go. Their mouths are fixed in a sadly-not-silent scream for help, but don’t be fooled: you can’t help them. They simply won’t be helped. They are too busy falling face-first into the giant hole they’ve been busy digging when nobody else will.
So, if we can’t help them, at least we can help ourselves. Here are my best tips for managing the martyr in your life (maybe it’s you?).
1. Take back your power
Martyrs do what they do because they believe that no one will like them if they are not willfully sacrificing themselves for the good of others. Once people cotton onto this fact, they stop letting the martyr in and this proves to the martyr that no one will like them if they aren’t doing things for others. It’s kinda sad, but that’s the pickle they are in. The key here is to take back your power right from the beginning. If I were my kids, I’d pick up my shoes so I’m not giving the martyr mum the fuel to flagellate. If I were the sleep-deprived mother of a newborn, I would begin every sentence with, “I know you’ll understand me when I say…” and if I were the husband heading out for a night out I’d say, “I’ll go this time, then you go next time.”
2. Rip off the band-aid
If you’ve got a friend you really like who just can’t stop doing the martyr thing, you need to rip off the band-aid. Tell her, “I really love you, Myrtle, but I don’t love the way you keep doing things you don’t really want to do.” Myrtle needs to get off the bus and let someone else do the driving. Challenge Myrtle to a week of no self-sacrifice. Instead of picking up the shoes, encourage her to say, “Please pick up your shoes, kids” and to her friend, she’ll say, “I know what it’s like to be sleep-deprived, how are you coping?” and to her husband she will say, “Have a great night out, honey.”
3. Praise them, but not their behaviour
The last thing you want to do is make a martyr think that being a martyr is rewarding. It’s not. It’s a toxic bomb of untold destruction. But here we are dealing with a person who wants to do well. No matter that they are going about it in a frustrating, manipulative way, unlike our terrifying bullies, rude bastards and newborns, martyrs really do mean well. So find good stuff about them to praise – stuff that has nothing to do with the thing they are martyring over at the time. So Myrtyle is bleating on about staying up until 3am to make cupcakes from scratch with flour she milled herself for the school morning tea again and rather than say, “Oh Myrtle, you do so much, you shouldn’t do so much, poor, selfless Myrtle!”, you say, “For a gal operating on 3 hours sleep, you look great, Myrt!”
4. Do not, under any circumstances, try to fix the problem
I mentioned this upfront, but I’ll say it again because it’s very, very important: the martyr does not want your help. They want your sympathy, they want your validation, they want your undying devotion, they do not want your help. Martyrs crave recognition, not solutions. Remember, they actually feel superior to you because they are doing life so much harder and better and more. They have researched every article, read every book, experienced every experience and tried every damn thing. Trust me, they don’t need your help.
5. Steer the conversation away
If Myrtle just won’t shut up about what a fool she is for taking on an extra project because she’s already doing too much on her current project that she took on because Bernard couldn’t handle it, shut that shit down immediately. “Project? I watched The Project last night and they had on this little lamb riding a bicycle. I loved that lamb. The bicycle was red. Oh look, there’s Bernard, gotta go.”
6. Better yet, steer them away
Really, the best way to help a martyr is to give them something worth martyring about. Something that benefits the greater good. Since the martyr truly believes that they can endure more hardship and effort than ordinary folk, gently suggest that that’s exactly what they should do. “I know who would be awesome hosting the annual fundraiser: MYRTLE! She’s so good, she can do it all by herself! No, REALLY, SHE CAN!” and “Only you can do the proper job here, Myrtle, we’re really relying on you to bring this aircraft home.”
Got a martyr in your life? Any other strategies for coping?
[Image and softies by the marvellous Suse from Revoluzzza. Suse’s pics of her softies have been illustrating the Difficult People series since 2010. Thank you, Suse.]
Corinne says
I think I was really lucky because at a very young age, someone I really trusted and respected gave me the best piece of advice I’ve ever received. “If someone asks you to do something or go somewhere and you don’t want to, just say ‘No, thank you’, don’t give a reason or an explanation. People will always accept this and it will save so much grief later on.” And it’s so true, it’s so much easier to say No and move on, then do something you don’t want to do or try and get out of something you’d said you’d do later.
The other piece of great advice I was given a little later is that people often want to help but don’t know how to help. If you need help, reach out, because there is usually someone who is not only willing but HAPPY to help. This piece took a little longer to sink in with me, but it’s so true. I’ve made some wonderful friendships by reaching out to people when I’ve needed some help.
I think these two pieces of advice have stopped me turning into a martyr!
For the martyrs in my life I often just say “I’m really and truly here if you need help” and then leave them to it, because as you’ve said, most martyrs don’t want help!
Sonia Life Love Hiccups says
Oh every kind of yes! I used to mock my mother for being such a martyr and yet I have become one too. I am the martyr in my life!!! You need to sell this as a self help ebook for Martyrs .. actually on second thoughts, invest all your spare time over the next mmm 3 months to write the book and then give it away for nothing… wait… no. NO to martyrdom!!!
Maxabella says
Do you think that being a martyr and being a mum just go hand in hand. Because we do feel put upon, don’t we? And then we insist on taking on more and more…. hmmmm….
Carly says
Gosh I hope not! My mum is the ultimate mummy martyr and it drives me insane, I get it to a point as I too have my days, but overall I look at her endlessly complain about things she can change if she wasn’t so afraid of change and allowed people to do things in their own way and time and I think god I don’t want to be like her…sad to say out loud about my mum but the truth
Carly says
I forgot to add that I’m trying really hard to let hubby and kids do things their way and then if they make a huge mess in the process walk away and ask them calmly to deal with it…otherwise I will always do everything on my own and thus the martyr cycle continues…easier said than done though!
Helen K says
We specialise in a particular form of martyrdom in our family – one that has been passed from generation to generation (on both sides). And that’s the self depreciating martyr. Yes, my grandmother, throughout her 90s might have insisted she made the cake or pudding for ever occasion, but ‘I’m sorry the pudding is so dry – I don’t know, I’m just not as good as I used to be’ (actually it was delicious). Or when she lay at her home for nearly 10 hours with a bad arm / collar bone multiple fracture that turned her whole limb and chest black (phone next to her but refusing to call anyone) because ‘oh well, you’re all so busy I didn’t want to bother anyone). For heavens sake! We’ve all got a but if that – doing things we don’t want to do in a battle for virtuosity and stoicism. The main thing that works is teasing by out martyr-ing (yes, I hadn’t wanted to say anything but really – it’s not your best. Oh well, I might just have to have another piece – forcing it down. Ahem). If course we can do this in a way that we know it is understood / and we all have a laugh (although not the broken arm – that was silly and not fair in anyone – including herself but also us. Guilt shifting is not ok / especially when significant health issues are concerned). And so we’re all learning – not to rely as much on external validation by guilting someone into it / or even doing something you don’t want to do because you ‘should’ (a bought Christmas pudding, when you are 102, is perfectly acceptable!)
Maxabella says
I do think it’s genetic. My mum was (and is) a martyr who can’t stand martyrs, just like me. I think many women are the kind like your grandmother – making excuses for perfectly good work. It’s like we are apologising for not being perfect enough (in our own minds). x
Mel Roworth says
The mutter of self pity under one’s breath is not something I have been able rein in. Honestly, think about 15% of my parenting is shaking my hypocritical head at myself.
Maxabella says
You are so lucky to mutter it, Mel. I have a tendency to announce it to the world. My flatmate who did not suffer fools lightly used to tell me to ‘get down off the cross, Jesus needs to wood’ which made me laugh and cringe in equal parts. x
Kitty says
Love this! I remember asking someone to do something to help out with a project and she just politely said ‘Oh, no thank you, I can’t at the moment’ and it was like PEOPLE CAN DO THAT?! Mind. Blown.
Maxabella says
I’m quite good at saying no when I don’t want to do something. My problem is that I want to do all the things and then it gets too much and I get all martyry. x
Lisa | The Notorious MUM says
Oooo Bron, OUCH, this hits a bit close to home. I am the original martyr mum. In fact, I think I may have the trademark on it. Until recently, I never, ever accepted offers of help, preferring instead to say IT’S FINE, WE’LL BE FINE. But then, when shit really did get real, I let myself say: “Actually yes, I would LOVE you to make dinner and drop it off to us.” “And yes PLEASE, it would be great if you could watch the kids for an hour.” It felt weird and it felt unnatural, but it also felt absolutely necessary. If I hadn’t accepted offers of help, I’d have sunk without trace. Still stung, though. THANK YOU for writing this xx
Maxabella says
Hope it’s not stinging anymore though? Once you start, you realise how NICE it is to allow others to help. x
Robyna | the Mummy and the Minx says
I definitely take on more than I should and I do have a dreadful tendency to think I’m more competent than most. However, I do it all quite joyfully. Is there such a thing as a joyful martyr?
Claire @ Life on Wallace says
I think I’m a joyful martyr too!
Cristin @ Between Roots and Wings says
Oh, mercy, I have a real touch of the martyr mum in me, too. I’m *really* trying to work on letting other people do things, even if it’s not the way I think it should be done (somehow we end up with clean dishes, despite my husband’s unorthodox manner of stacking the dishwasher). And, saying what I really mean – not, passive aggressive platitudes. It’s a work in progress, undoing a lifetime’s conditioning in incredible self-sacrifice. 😉
Claire @ Life on Wallace says
Maybe being a martyr comes with the territory of being a Mum? You’re clearly in good company xx
Breharne says
Love this post, so many times as I was reading this I literally mouthed – this is me. *sigh*
Emily @ Have A Laugh On Me says
Oh shit, you have just written about ME!
Shauna says
Oh absolutely a martyr Mum here but I’m married to a martyr also and number 4 “Do not, under any circumstances try to fix the problem” rings loud and clear. It took 20 years of marriage before I finally figured that one out. We get along much better now! Lol. Him complaining and me ignoring him…in the nicest possible way!