We sat at a big table...eight middle-aged professional men with egos as dominatinating as the storm clouds that brought us there. Despite extensive education, successful careers, financial rewards and notoriety we came to this place with demons and dragons which threatened to destroy everything in their path. We each shifted nervously or restlessly while waiting for our counselor to pose the next probing question. He was a crusty old professor from University of Georgia, who had not only witnessed, but also had been through it all. These group sessions were never easy. He cleared his throat and said; "Each of you has told us about terrible things that have happened in your lives. Now I want to know this. What is your part in it?" Something sucked all of the air out of the room. My mind was racing. What was my part in my tragedies? Well nothing. I was a victim. Anger tied my stomach in knots and rose up as burning blood to my face. How can that question do anything but take us back to self destructive patterns that were tearing us apart? But I got an answer when the second member of the group growled his response saying; "I was sexually abused by my cousin from the time I was six until I was thirteen. What the hell was my part in that?” Tom, the counselor, sat back in silence for a minute and then said; "No child is responsible for being molested Jerry. They are innocents. I was also abused as a boy." We all looked sort of vindicated until he added this. "Your part in it was that you have been drinking about it to kill the pain for thirty years." An Ah-Ha lightbulb clicked on in my head.

Even though I had spent most of my adult life as a therapist for abused boys and relapse prevention specialist for people suffering with substance abuse disorders, it never occurred to me that victims, including myself, had to own a part in whatever happened along the way. Nobody is a helpless bystander for long. That's not so easy to swallow. When you have been hurt through no real fault of your own, it's hard to abandon victim status. The fact is that intense feelings drive behavior. They originate as survival tools and then become default responses as the feeling intensifies. What once helped us to endure trauma now hangs on as a potentially destructive pattern which seems inescapable.

The best news is that we are not prisoners of learned behavior. Feelings come and feelings go, triggered by some stimulus to the five senses. With diligent work, we can change the way we respond to those feelings. It all starts with owning your part in the problem. This is universally healing, and removes us from the victims chair. If I had a part in it then I can do something about it. And like my friend, Jerry, even carrying around trauma and easing the pain with drugs and alcohol can be the part that we play.

Here is what I've learned and what I practiced in my role as a counselor after that Ah-Ha moment. It is my job to do the next right thing here and now. This allows me avoid resentment and depression. I am no longer in denial of my wounds. In fact, I discovered that it is the wound itself which has helped to form me. Instead of being governed or poisoned by it, I find an element of gratitude. For now I am authentic. I am valued not for what I have done, but for who I am. My worth and validation does not come from performance, success, or achievement and it doesn't hinge on your opinion of me. Though a classic Two/Three on the Enneagram, I now fully accept that I'm not Bob the addiction specialist, Bob the trauma expert, Bob the author, nor Bob the father, son, husband or friend. I am just Bob, another Bozo on the bus. I love life and life is good.

So let the healing begin. Own your part in any resentment you have. Whether it surrounds major disagreements at home or work, lurks in the shadows of childhood trauma, or nightmarish experiences that just won't disappear, the only way to disempower them is by taking some form of responsibility. See a trusted mentor or counselor for help. You will be amazed before you are halfway through. Soon you will find that you have the strength to get yourself up, dust yourself off and start all over again.