Breaking the Drama Cycle

Wow. Yesterday I was lying in bed and realised it’s June. The middle of the year. How the bloody hell did that happen?

Every week, I reflect on what to share with you, and this week’s theme arrived right on time. I’ve been checking in with my thoughts, and to be honest, it’s been like a bad wardrobe clear-out gone wrong. Cluttered, piled everywhere, nothing fits, and it all feels slightly overwhelming (it’s the moment you ask yourself, why did I decide to do a clear out - now?)

You get the picture.

I caught myself mid-mental argument about the relentless hair on the floor (we have a lot of hair in this family!), the clothes that I should just get rid of but maybe one day would come back in fashion (and fit), and the toys I had to pick up… again and again, with that under the breath whisper “Why is it always me picking them up!” I felt underappreciated, frustrated, on the edge of snapping but holding it together with that slightly too-tight emotional glue we tend to reach for when things feel out of control – you know the one! So, why was it all bothering me so much this week?

Well. Let’s zoom out, shall we?

Both Jorge and Amelia have been sick. Jorge and I have tag-teamed as entertainment crew, midnight medics, and round-the-clock cuddle dispensers all while pretending to be functioning adults. Throw in some solid PMT for me and, voilà: a feature-length domestic thriller, in which I play all lead roles and unfortunately popcorn was not included.

But here’s what struck me: two years ago, this would have totally unravelled me. I’d have spun out in frustration, irritation, maybe a side of self-pity, and topped it off with a good old-fashioned guilt spiral (such a joy, my inner world).

This time, it was different.

I noticed the unease inside and I clocked the mental chaos that was looming. I listened to that little voice (yes, including the odd “bloody hell” and “for f**k’s sake”) but I didn’t buy into it. I didn’t buy into the drama that I was creating, and I knew deep down, I had a choice.

At one particularly wobbly moment, I felt lonely and disconnected from myself, and weirdly, from Jorge, even though we’d been in each other’s pockets all week. You know that feeling? When you’re with people… but still feel far away?

So, I spoke with Jorge and just said we probably need to go out and get some air, no drama, no sweeping statements. No having to think it all and do it all; we just spoke about it and did the simplest thing possible, we took Amelia out to get some sun on her face, some salt air in our lungs, and to spot whales and find seashells.

And what I found was we just needed a moment to step out of the cycle we had put ourselves in through the week. I realised it wasn’t about the chaos, the sleep, or the body wash (we’ll come back to that). It was about the role I’d been slipping into each day. I had unconsciously stepped into the Drama Cycle and once I spotted it, I could choose something different.

So, what is the Drama Cycle?

The Drama Cycle is made up of three classic roles we fall into when things get stressful or messy:

The Victim

The Persecutor

The Rescuer

Soap operas are built on it. There’s always someone hurt, someone blamed, and someone swooping in to save the day – sound familiar? When we’re in this loop, we’re stuck in reactive behaviour. We’re not lifting each other up... no way! We’re interpreting, defending, blaming, reacting, and we're most certainly not connected or calm.

Let me give you a tiny, ridiculous example (you’re going to love this):

Jorge bought a new body wash. It smells, to me exactly like Thai green curry. I adore Thai green curry. I just don’t want to shower in it.

I told him I didn’t love it, and he shrugged and said, “It’s fine. It’s just body wash.”

What I heard was: “You’re being dramatic.”

And just like that, I went from fine to full internal courtroom drama. Six steps up the Woolies aisle, and I’d already written him a monologue, a counterargument, and a closing statement. I was in a spiral over soap, people.

We do this all the time, turning everyday moments into mini-dramas in our heads. We assign meaning, make assumptions, and forget to ask ourselves if there’s another way to see it.

And that’s the thing, if I am honest, it wasn’t about the body wash. It was about my bandwidth. I was tired, touched out, overstretched, and trying to hold it all together. And when I’m in that space, I default into roles I don’t want to play.

But this time, in a week filled with bad night’s sleep and sick people at home, before the spiralling, I noticed it and saw the signs, and so I asked Jorge if we should get some air. He came up with whale watching and we got ourselves wrapped up and just went, no expectations, no saving, no blaming, no shaming we just got up and went.

That is because I was honest enough to ask myself: “What would the Observer do here?”

Yup! There is a fourth role in the Drama Cycle. And it’s the game-changer.

It’s called: The Observer.

The Observer doesn’t jump in to fix, and they most certainly do not parent the other adult in the room, whisper threatening words mid-toy pick up, or spiral when they see a glance (which meant nothing) or believe they heard a displeasing comment. Because, and here is the clincher, the Observer isn’t trying to win some imaginary court case.  They’re trying to understand, and gain perspective. They don’t make everything personal.

They pause and think:

• “What’s really going on here?”

• “Maybe they’re not being dismissive. Maybe they’re just tired.”

• “Maybe this isn’t about me. Maybe it’s just... soap.”

The Observer steps out of the narrative and notices what’s going on, looking at the facts, not feelings dressed up as facts. They put on the big girl pants and give others the benefit of the doubt.

And when you do that, when you observe instead of react, you create space. And that space? That’s where calm lives. This role sounds epic and might be hard at times, and it probably would be easier to sit in the drama – but let’s face it, how long would that take? Plus it's exhausting playing all three roles anyway.  

So how do we become the Observer, especially in the thick of it?

Use the pause.

Just three deep breaths before you respond. It’s simple, and it buys you space. I also like Mel Robbins' 5 second rule – count back from 5 then choose what to do next. 

Name the emotion, don’t become it.

“I notice I’m feeling overwhelmed” is very different to “I’m losing it.” I love the reframe where we name the emotion, as it allows you to recognise that you are NOT the WHOLE emotion. Only a part of you feels this way, right now.

Ask: What else could be true?

Maybe your partner isn’t dismissing you. Maybe he’s just tired. Or clueless about citrus and botanicals. What are the facts? And could you be misinterpreting the situation? Remember perception is projection!

Write it out.

If you like to write, then get it out. Sometimes just writing it on a piece of paper and getting the thoughts and words out helps release their energy around you.

Check the role you’re playing.

I love this, although I don’t like to admit it sometimes, but you need to ask yourself: Which role am I playing right now: Victim? Saviour? Persecutor? Just naming it can be enough to change it.

Listen to listen, not to respond.

Bloody hard, but worth practising. Let your partner or child finish speaking before you prepare your reply.

Use ‘I notice…’ language.

Allowing yourself to speak about what you are experiencing with the person you might be in the drama with. Or gain insights into how you are spiralling in your own drama (been there!). It keeps things honest but non-blaming. It softens the tone.

Zoom out.

If you were watching your day from a bird’s eye view, what would you see? I would probably notice that my day is not that bad and that there are only small moments which really shouldn’t take up that much energy or time. Zooming out gives you the luxury of perspective and sometimes that is all we need.

So, feel free to use one or all of these tools, please for your sanity! Because the drama cycle comes in quick and fast, and we often don’t realise it until we are in it, and we might have already said a few choice words we know were not necessary!

But know this. You’re not the only one who spirals. You’re not the only one who forgets the tools… even when you teach them (guilty!). But the moment we remember, we have a choice of what role we want to play.

And that’s when things start to shift.

The house may still be chaotic and the clothes destined for charity! The toys will still need to be picked up. The soap will still be used up (by Jorge only, I bought my own). But the feeling inside me? It’s all good. It's calm and I know I can handle it all.

Lots of love

Your Observer in Learning

Vikki

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