On Victimhood and Being a "Have To" Guy

I am a "have to" guy.  I have always been a have to guy.  In fact, I think I was born a have to guy.  Many of you are have to people as well.  Those who are have to people need no further explanation as to what this means, but for those of you who are not have to people, here is a little primer.  Have to people do what they have to do, no matter what, always.  Or, at minimum, they do what they believe (or are told, or convince themselves) that they have to do.  They do this irrespective of their personal feelings, goals, or aspirations.  They take on jobs, responsibilities, and obligations not through a rational thought process or by matching their talents and abilities with those jobs, but because they feel that they are compelled to do so for the good of someone else.  

There are have to people everywhere.  Even if you are not a have to person, you certainly know have to people.  The woman who drops out of college to care for her children, the aspiring writer who becomes an insurance agent to pay the bills, the people who take your order at the fast food restaurant, the customer service agent on the other end of the phone, and the sanitation worker who picks-up your trash from the curb are all have to people.  People doing what they believe, or were told, that they have to do to get by, to pay the rent, to eat, to live.  Not everyone who works a mundane job is a have to person.  Some of these people have found their calling and get terrific enjoyment from their work, but for many of us the driving force behind all of our decisions is simply doing what we have to do to survive.

Have to people often start young.  We are the "responsible" sibling who looks out for our brothers and sisters.  Many of us grow up in economic circumstances that encourage, if not force us shoulder responsibility at a young age. We don’t blink an eye at working 70 hour weeks.  We are the people who feel guilty when we indulge in little pleasures like eating out or going to a movie.  We are the people who study geography and culture but do not have a passport because oversee travel is “just not something that people like us do.”  We are knowledgeable about the stock market and investing, but have no capital.  We recognize the world around us is a large and interesting place, but feel limited to our small little corner of it—working menial jobs and just hoping that the rent check does not bounce. 

This “have to” mentality allows us to survive and even thrive in difficult circumstances.  We do not spend time questioning why we have to do what we have to do, we simply do it.  No complaining, no whining, and no shirking of our perceived responsibilities.  Instead, we forge ahead, working jobs we hate, taking care of family or friends who do not appreciate our time or effort, and putting off our goals and dreams (or failing to ever establish such goals and dreams) until a later time when we believe that we will no longer have to do what we do.  We are low maintenance and reliable, but rarely ever happy.

Then one day something happens: we realize that we have actually chosen to be have to people.  This realization, that being a have to person is a choice, blows away all of our prior notions about ourselves and the role we play in the world.  We realize that there is no external force pressuring us to be have to people, and that we actually have something that we never thought we had before: a choice.  Suddenly the world is at once an amazingly exciting and amazingly terrifying place.  Suddenly we realize that our entire identities, including the pain, frustration, and disillusionment at our core need not be permanent.  In fact, those horrible feelings need not exists at all, it really is all a choice.  

For me, this realization came slowly.  I grew up poor.  Not outhouse, dirt floor, no running water poor—but American minority poor.  Food stamp poor.  Government cheese poor.  Shopping at Goodwill was a treat poor.  I started working at Taco Bell when I was in high school and have worked ever since.  I spent years managing retail stores, building sales teams, and managing real estate—all jobs I hated to various degrees.  I took these jobs not because I was interested in the industry or saw a potential career path, but because each progressive job paid more than the last, and as a have to guy, it was always about more money.  Money was the barrier between my current life and the one I sought to leave behind.  As a have to person, I did not care if I found satisfaction in work, it was simply a means to an end, a way to provide for those I cared about and to be “independent” from the government and church aid that dominated my youth—it was a way to do what I had to do.  

Once you step beyond the looking glass you realize that being a have to person means choosing to be a victim.  A victim of circumstance, of expectation, but most of all a victim of your own mind.  Victimhood—and its alter-ego entitlement—is an alluring mindset, because once we take on the mantle of victimhood, we have a builtin excuse for not achieving our highest purpose.  We have a built in excuse for our own bad choices, for not improving ourselves, and for living life under someone else’s terms.  It is the ultimate “get out of jail free” card for life.  I cannot count how many times over the past decades have I said, “no I can’t do [fill in the blank] because I have to work.”  I cannot take that internship because I have to make money to help my mother.  I cannot travel because I have to be there for my kids.  I cannot change industries or jobs or seek out a career I enjoy because I have to put food on the table.

In so doing we take on a martyr mindset.  We tell ourselves that our own sacrifice is a worthy pursuit, while at the same time secretly resenting those who we profess to be so selflessly helping.  The longer we parlay this cycle, the more attached we become to the vision of ourselves as selfless martyrs, and the more resentful we become of our supposed beneficiaries.  Eventually, the grind of doing what we have to do, or the resentment that accompanies it consumes us, and we are left bitter and angry at the world.  But there is a better way.

As kids, even poor kids, we are told that we can be whatever we want to be when we grow up.  But, no one ever tells us poor kids that we can also be who we want to be when we grow up.  We don’t have parents who ask us about our hopes and dreams.  Instead, we have an educational system that teaches us that there is an established path we must follow to escape poverty—and, that despite our best efforts, only a small percentage of us will ever make it.  We are told to go to school and get good grades.  To go to college and study hard.  And maybe, if you are gifted, to get an advanced degree.  We are told to be humble, start at the bottom and work our way up.  We are told to sacrifice and work hard and eventually we will “make it.”  But what we are never told is that we—and no one else—control our own destiny.  And not a hokey, science fiction way, but in the real, truest meaning of the word destiny. 

Over the last five years I have come to the realization that I chose to be a have to guy.  I came to see that there was only one thing separating me from those who chose to pursue their dreams and passions.  Those on the other side were not smarter, more driven, or more talented than I was.  The only thing that separated us was that they made a choice to pursue a life path they found interesting and challenging, and I simply did not.  They had the same bills and responsibilities (to a greater or lesser degree) as I did, but they refused to be held hostage by those responsibilities.  In short, they chose to fulfill their obligations by chasing their passions.  They chose to live by creating a world they enjoyed.

I have learned much in those intervening years.  I have learned that despite everything I was taught, life is not a zero sum game.  I learned that I can be driven and compassionate, competitive and collaborative, wealthy and generous all at the same time.  I learned that by choosing to be more than a have to guy, I can improve not only my life, but the lives of those I care about.  Choosing to state loudly and publicly your goals, putting aside everything that stands in the way of those goals, and deciding to devote yourself to chasing your dreams is scary as hell.  I know that I do not “have to” do it, but I do not think that I have ever wanted anything more in my entire life.