It’s like,  if there’s someone to blame, you have “blame me” written across your forehead. And over time, you start trying harder, explaining yourself more, and quietly wondering, why does this keep happening to me?

Here’s an example: my youngest brother did something, I can’t remember what right now, but I clearly remember what happened afterward. My mother blamed me, using the excuse, "You are the oldest, you should know better.” As much as I tried to explain to my mom that it was my brother, I still got blamed.

Years later, when my brother was older, he confessed that he was responsible and that he had caused me to get the blame. 

Understanding the Scapegoat Pattern

One of the biggest challenges with scapegoating is that most people don’t recognize it as a pattern of behaviour. Instead, they experience it as personal, as flawed, as something wrong with them.

When we hear the word scapegoat, we often picture something like outright bullying or obvious cruelty. But in families and relationships, scapegoating usually goes unnoticed. It’s subtle. It’s normalized. And because of that, it can take decades for a person to recognize that pattern.

At its core, a scapegoat is the person in a family system who gets unconsciously blamed whenever something goes wrong, or someone needs to point a finger." Instead of addressing what’s actually happening, the blame gets put onto one person who is sensitive, aware, honest, or different in some way, usually empathic.

And here’s the tricky part: scapegoats are rarely the “problem” people. More often, they’re the ones who notice problems, name them, or react to things others would rather turn a blind eye to.

So here’s the challenge: how do you tell the difference between someone who makes honest mistakes and someone who gets blamed no matter what? Because everyone messes up sometimes. Everyone says the wrong thing or has a bad day. But scapegoating isn’t about occasional conflict. It’s about patterned responsibility

You might notice that when something goes wrong, eyes automatically turn toward you. Or that your reactions are examined more closely than anyone else’s. Or that you’re expected to explain yourself, apologize, or smooth things over, even when you weren’t the one who caused the issue.

Over time, this creates a deep sense of confusion. You start replaying conversations in your head. You question your tone, your intentions, your memory. You try harder to say the right words, be kinder, stay small, and be more agreeable in the hope that this time it won’t land on you. But instead of resolving the tension, your efforts reinforce the role.

And that’s what makes scapegoating so difficult to recognize if you are the one. Because the very traits that get someone assigned the scapegoat role, such as empathy, responsibility, and self-reflection, are the same traits that make them ask themselves, What am I doing wrong?

If you see yourself as a scapegoat, this isn’t about diagnosing anyone in your life or pointing fingers. It’s about learning to recognize the patterns of behaviour you have been living with in your relationships, so you can begin separating who you are from the role you were given.



Here's the thing about scapegoat patterns—even when you start to recognize them, they don't just disappear. I'm 68 years old, I've done years of healing work, and this week I still felt my heart break when I chose myself over family expectations."

When Saying No Feels Hard

My one grandson had a hockey game Sunday night, which was out of town. I'd already been to back-to-back, late games Friday and Saturday night, plus one earlier that same day. I was exhausted. I had work to do on my business. I needed rest. And honestly, I needed some space.

So I said no. I'm not going. But my husband, their grandfather, was going.

And immediately, the voice kicked in: "They'll think you don't want to be around them. You're the bad grandmother. You're being selfish."

My heart broke. Not because I was doing anything wrong, but because the old wiring was still there, telling me I only have value when I'm performing for others, when I'm saying yes, when I'm putting everyone else's needs ahead of my own.

But here's what I'm learning about that heartbreak? That guilt? That's not proof that I did something wrong. That's the scapegoat pattern trying to pull me back into a role I've been carrying since childhood. Because the truth is, I couldn't do both. I couldn't take care of myself and meet everyone else's expectations. And for the first time, I chose me—even though the possible consequences of that decision scared the heck out of me.

That voice that told me I was being selfish? That fear of becoming 'the problem'? Those are scapegoat patterns. It took me decades to recognize them in myself, and I wish I had learned about them when I was younger. So if you've felt them too, here are five signs that might help you see what's been happening.

5 Signs You're The Scapegoat in Your Family Relationships

1. When something goes wrong, the finger gets pointed at you first, no questions asked. 

You're expected to explain yourself, fix it, or make things better—even when you weren't the one who caused the problem.

2. You feel watched and judged more than others. 

People pay close attention to your tone, your reactions, and the words you use. You say something casually, and later it gets brought up as evidence of you having an "attitude" — while someone else can say the exact same thing and it's no biggie. In other words, things you say get remembered or brought up later, while similar behaviour from others is overlooked.

3. You're expected to be the understanding one. 

You're supposed to let things go, be the bigger person, or keep the peace — even when you're the one who's been hurt. And when you don't do that, it feels like you've broken some unspoken rule.

4. You second-guess yourself constantly. 

You replay conversations in your head over and over and wonder if you said the wrong thing or came across the wrong way. Instead of questioning what actually happened, you end up questioning yourself.



5. You are damned either way. 

Saying no feels like letting people down, and saying yes feels like abandoning yourself—because you've been taught you're supposed to be everything for everyone, including taking care of your own needs somehow. You're damned if you do and damned if you don't—say yes and lose yourself, say no and become the problem.

Why These Signs You're The Scapegoat Don't End in Childhood

If you recognized yourself in these signs, you might be wondering why this still shows up in adulthood. That's because scapegoating isn't just something that happens to you — it quietly teaches you the role you were conditioned to play.

When you grow up in a role where you're blamed, watched, or expected to keep the peace, your nervous system learns that safety comes from explaining, fixing, and not rocking the boat. That doesn't magically disappear when you grow up. It follows you into your friendships, workplaces, and even romantic relationships.

You may find yourself becoming the responsible one at work. The one who smooths things over. The one who takes the hit when there's tension on a team. Or the one who feels uneasy saying no, even when no is reasonable.

This isn't because you're choosing the role. It's because it feels familiar. Familiar doesn't mean healthy — it just means well known.

And here's something else: if you were scapegoated, there's a good chance your parent was too. These patterns don't start with us, but they can end with us.

So if you're thinking, This explains so much about my adult life, there's nothing wrong with you. You adapted early, and those adaptations helped you survive. The work now isn't to judge yourself for them but to notice them with compassion and start choosing differently, one small moment at a time.

And that brings us to how this shows up for our kids.

How to Model This for Your Kids

The most important thing you can teach your kids, even adult kids, isn't how to avoid being scapegoated—it's how to recognize it when it happens.

Because if you grew up as the family scapegoat, there's a chance your kids are watching similar patterns play out. And the best protection you can give them isn't shielding them from every hard situation. It's teaching them self-awareness.

When you start recognizing the scapegoat pattern in yourself—when you notice the automatic guilt, the blame that lands on you first, the feeling that you're always the problem—you're modelling something powerful. You're showing them what it looks like to trust your own reality.

Kids learn by watching. When they see you pause and question whether the blame actually belongs to you, they learn to do the same. When they hear you say, "That's not fair" or "I didn't cause that," they learn that noticing unfairness isn't disrespectful—it's honest.

Self-awareness is the skill that lets you see the pattern without drowning in it. And when your kids see you practicing that, they learn they don't have to accept every label, every bit of blame, or every story someone else tells about who they are.

You don't need to have it all figured out. You just need to be willing to notice, name it, and trust what you see.

That's the lesson

Conclusion: Putting It All Together

If this made you stop and think, perfect, because learning about scapegoating isn't about blaming yourself or blaming your family. It's about understanding why so many situations over the years just didn't make sense to you.

When you've spent years being the one who explains, fixes, or keeps the peace, it's easy to start thinking you are the problem. But the roles you play aren't the same as the person you actually are. A role is something you learned to act out. And anything learned can be unlearned.

Nothing we discussed today means there's something wrong with you. Instead, it validates what you learned about the ways to get through tough situations that felt confusing or unfair. Those ways helped at the time. Now, you can start to notice them.

Awareness doesn't mean you have to change anything. It means you can step back and see the pattern playing out: There it is — that's the blame landing on me again. That's the guilt trying to pull me back.

Once you can see it, you realize it's not about who you are — it's about a role you learned.

"Remember, change begins with ourselves.

Put your knowledge into action and reach your full potential ."

Wishing you heartfelt warmth 



Kate/Gramma Kate