On being a martyr: whose needs do you put first?
The idea that you can prioritise other people over your own needs is so widely accepted that we don't question it. But it's wrong. Your needs always came first...
A super brief word: I’m holding a free talk on how to live and work with less drama on the 25th January at 1.00pm GMT - sign up here
It’s a familiar scenario: I have a list of things I want to be getting on with but I find myself doing something for someone else, instead.
It might be a momentary thing, like when I’m itching to get into my workshop and move a project on, or send an email to a client about some conflict training, but I end up fixing a small child’s lego model.
Or it could seem like a much wider problem - that I’m constantly deprioritising some aspect of my life in service of looking after other people’s needs.
Even if it is something that feels like the right thing to do at the time, sooner or later it transforms into feelings of frustration tinged with confusion.
Why do my needs come last? What’s happening here that means I end up doing what other’s want instead of what *I* want?
It’s something I’d been battling with for years - decades even. Both as a leader in an organisation and as a husband and parent, at home.
“I’m constantly putting other people’s needs first!” I’d remonstrate with myself, both full of bitterness and bafflement.
Despite the difficulty it can cause people, culturally this characteristic is seen as a good thing.
How many times have you heard someone described in this way? They are usually framed as an example to us all - thinking of others before themselves.
But, even when talking about the same person, the same idea is used to criticise or blame someone who is struggling because - in our view - they don’t pay attention to their own needs.
My epiphany on this came accidentally while teaching a group of leaders who were on the Evolving Leadership course with my friend Sally-Anne Airey.
For the past four years I’ve been invited to work with her cohort on the programme she runs out of the French Alps - sometimes in person, sometimes online.
It was during a call about understanding needs that I found a new insight falling out my mouth.
One participant - a senior exec in a big FMCG brand - talked about the frustration they were experiencing in trying to balance their responsibilities as a parent with their desire to focus on their own work and wellbeing.
“Well, no one ever puts another person’s needs first.” I responded.
Everyone paused. The call went silent as we all let that sink in. Me included.
Slowly we unpacked this idea and picked it apart. Rather than the pushback I sometimes get when I offer controversial or counter-cultural ideas, no one could object to this idea that it’s our needs that always come first.
The reason for this is actually very simple.
Every action you take - every thought, feeling and decision stems from a need within you.
That means that even if you drop everything you’re doing to help someone else - and even if what you put aside seems like the most vital or pressing thing in the world - then that decision still came from your own need.
(Incidentally, Sally-Anne also talks about this conversation and unpacks it in her excellent book Mindful Command, which I highly recommend).
While I might think I’m ‘putting their need first’, the choice to put aside my work to help my son with a tricky problem comes from my need for connection - the idea of saying: “Not now” feels like I would be denying him the parental support that I want to provide.
It just so happens that this need is stronger than the one that was driving me to write up that conflict training plan.
When I actively embrace this idea and recognise that every choice I make is an active one - I am taking responsibility for my needs.
It doesn’t mean I suddenly start turning down these requests for help, but instead it allows me to be less knee-jerk about the decisions I make and reflect on how I make the decision.
I can decide that yes, I really do want to work through this maths homework with the nine year-old boy, and I can come to that write-up later.
Or I can calmly agree to sitting down at the table with him but it will have to be later this evening, once I’m done at the computer.
Because I’m recognising that it’s my choice, I don’t feel like I’m being pulled about by other people’s demands or my own martyrdom.
And this is an important aspect of coming to terms with taking responsibility for the decisions I make.
In the past, at some point I would end up very frustrated. I might blame other people for being too needy or uncaring about what I want, or blaming myself for not being better at prioritising my needs over other’s requests.
If I accept that I’m always doing the choosing, then I drop the blame and judgement - of others or myself - and actively engage with the process.
Instead of being the victim, I have agency.
Yes, I might choose to ‘help others’ but I am doing it because it meets a need for me.
Where this becomes critical is when that victim-martyr identity starts to affect our health and relationships.
Personally speaking I’m at my worst when I feel like I’m not in control of my time and attention and that I’m struggling while everyone else gets what they need.
I’m not great to be around and I don’t even enjoy being with myself. It’s just an all-round shitshow.
And constantly, automatically, responding to perceived demands without actively reflecting on how to balance your different needs can also lead to burnout.
This is because our needs are shaped by our unconscious beliefs.
So although I am always acting out my own need in helping others, that tendency might not be serving me in how I want to work and live, but instead is a hangover from my early childhood and later development.
Perhaps a parent or other significant care giver consistently modelled this behaviour, or that there was some kind of neglect or overlook that meant needs went unnoticed and support wasn’t readily offered.
These patterns are buried in our bodies and minds, driving our automatic behaviour. They define what needs show up in reaction to events around us.
I can tell when this is happening because the decisions I make are driven by an accompanying tension that seems to be in response to what’s going on.
But this is also not fixed in stone, and beneath the maelstrom of thoughts and feelings evoked by our everyday interactions with others, we have other needs that we can recognise and hold as equally important.
For me, this process of taking responsibility for my needs and how they shape every aspect of my life is the key to living well.
It allows me to provide support to those that need it, but in a way that feels good to me and doesn’t neglect the other vital aspects of my work or wider life.
If you’d like to understand how to put these ideas into practice, I’m running a free talk on how to live and work with less drama on the 25th January at 1.00pm GMT - sign up here