A few years ago, the author met an old friend and mentor for coffee. The author had recently become a director and was struggling with the transition. The author told the friend about the challenges of moving from a counseling role, which was about listening and connecting, to managing budgets, writing evaluations, and holding people accountable.
The author said, “I don’t know what I’m doing, and I feel like I’m bothering people every time I ask for help.” The friend listened and then said, “You’re seeing yourself as a victim. Like life is just happening to you and you’re waiting for it to stop.”
The author drove home with a headache, feeling the comment was unfair. But the word “victim” stayed with the author throughout the night. The author could not sleep and kept turning the word over in mind.
The author began to see a truth in the friend’s observation. The author had been holding onto grievances without expressing them and had been accumulating a sense of being wronged without trying to change things. The author pictured wearing a wooden sign around the neck with the word “Victim” on it.
The author realized that some part was choosing to wear that sign. Instead of feeling sorry, the author started asking what word to carry instead. The author considered words like hero, victor, agent, creator, survivor, and overcomer, but none felt right.
The word that came to the author was “Steward.” The author looked it up and learned that a steward is the keeper of the house, someone trusted to look after what belongs to a larger story. The author saw that a victim is defined by what has been done to them, while a steward is defined by what they choose to do with it.
Years later, the challenges of leadership remain. A staff member recently asked for a formal meeting and said that the flexibility the author was giving others was making her job harder. She said it did not feel fair when people did not follow through and faced no consequences.
The author wanted to explain that the goal was to ease pressure and give people room to breathe. But the author recognized that this was the victim talking. A steward does not protect from hard feedback. The author told the staff member, “You’re right. And I’m grateful you came to me directly.”
The author said the feedback would help hold clearer limits and that people who do their work with excellence deserve a leader who protects that standard. The movement from victim to steward is an ongoing process. The author still stumbles and feels the sign settling back around the neck.
The author used to experience the difficulty of leadership as something happening, as evidence of not belonging. What shifted was the recognition that this season of life was asking something, not punishing. The author was being called into service, whether feeling ready or not.
The author now thinks about what it means to stop merely surviving life and start tending to it. The friend knew the author well enough to tell an uncomfortable truth. The author is no longer carrying that sign, or at least trying not to. On days when it feels like it is settling back, the author remembers the word that replaced it: steward.
