How To Stop Someone From Playing Victim In Relationships?

Iris Glover and Stanley Stein shared seven years together—three of dating and four of marriage. Their relationship unraveled when Stanley chose to believe the homewrecker and prosecuted Iris in court himself. The question, "Do you plead guilty?" shattered Iris' heart. She fought fiercely in court, proved her innocence, and exposed the homewrecker's true nature. Upon her acquittal, she told Stanley, "Let's get a divorce." He replied, "Don't you regret it, Iris," believing she was merely throwing a tantrum. When they crossed paths again, Stanley asked, "Have you come to reconcile?" Iris retorted, "Being so delusional is an illness; seek help." Every time she got mad, she always went back to him once she calmed down, but not this time. It wasn't until Iris emerged as a successful lawyer standing opposite him in court that Stanley realized she had changed; she no longer belonged to him. In a moment of desperation, he pleaded, "Iris, I still love you. Please come back to me." Iris, now strong and resolute, replied, "The reason I improved myself is thanks to you, not for you. Mr. Stein, please step aside; don't stand in my way."

My fiance, Wayne Garner, has a rare condition called hyper-empathy syndrome. Yet somehow, I'm the only person he cannot empathize with. When I develop acute gastroenteritis and the cramps become unbearable, I force myself to call Wayne and beg him to take me to the hospital. After listening to me, Wayne simply says, "Andrea has a slight cold. I have to take her to the hospital first. Hang in there." I remember during our first family dinner, Andrea Graham calls him and says she's feeling down, and he rushes off to be with her. I instantly tell him we should break up, but he grabs my hand and keeps promising it will never happen again. After that, he does keep his promise and stops responding to Andrea's requests for help. I secretly rejoice, believing that staying by his side long enough will eventually correct his misplaced empathy. But now, the same thing happens all over again. The pain in my abdomen keeps getting worse, leaving me with no choice but to dial the emergency number with trembling hands. While I'm in the ambulance, an Instagram notification pops up. Andrea has posted a photo of herself with Wayne at the hospital. The caption reads, "It's only a minor cold, yet someone still takes the time to bring me to the hospital. It feels so nice to be someone's top priority." Another wave of sharp cramps passes. I look at the job offer from Warler in my inbox and accept it. Wayne, I'm really leaving you this time.

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.

An amazing soul, trained intelligent speaker is stuck in a relationship that is eating her up yet she refuses to leave. Why? The memories of how the love journey started and perhaps coinciding with the time she lost her mother made it impossible for her to quit …and she couldn’t help but be more obsessed to making the relationship end up in marriage. Love turns to passion; passion turns to obsession and the epic just begun.

To scrape together enough money for tickets home on New Year’s Eve, I took on a part-time job and accidentally entered a livestream where money was being thrown around. The boy on screen had fair skin and wore a high-end knit sweater, with a luxuriously decorated villa behind him. “It’s too boring being kept here. My sugar mommy gives me more money than I can spend. Let’s do some giveaways.” Excited, I grabbed several large cash drops in a row. The money for my girlfriend’s and my tickets was almost enough. Then the boy suddenly leaned close to the camera. “She keeps saying the tear mole under my eye looks like her boyfriend’s. What bad luck, sharing the same feature as some poor loser.” My fingers trembled. I had a tear mole in the exact same spot. A comment floated by: [How could a sugar mommy’s boyfriend be poor?] The boy sneered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s just playing around. Told him she’s a million in debt, and he’s dumb enough to work and help her pay it off.” My heart went cold. My girlfriend was also supposedly a million in debt. “The funniest part is, she just spent three days with me. When she left, I asked if she still had the energy to go be with him. “She said as long as she tells him she’s going to wash dishes at a barbecue place, that idiot will feel bad and go deliver food to make some extra money overnight.” Another big cash drop came in. I had enough now. My phone rang. Wren’s voice sounded tired as she said, “Aran, the ticket money isn’t enough… I made a little over two hundred dollars washing dishes. I’ll head home now.”

I'm a love therapist. My job is to help clients experience what it's like to be in love. One day, a client comes to me, wanting me to serve him in a different manner.