In some ways suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning.

Victor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning

I first read Man’s Search for Meaning for a psychology class in college. Frankl chronicles his experience being imprisoned in a Nazi concentration camp during World War II. Its influence extends well beyond the world of psychotherapy. With millions of copies sold in dozens of languages across the world, Man’s Search for Meaning has been hailed as one of the most important books ever written.

Frankl examines the horrors inflicted upon his fellow concentration camp inmates, noting that those who were able to ascribe meaning and purpose to their lives often persevered in the face of unspeakable evil. As I recall, Frankl describes the survival of those who sought to share their meager rations of food with others. Despite this severe reduction in caloric intake, many of these individuals survived — either altogether or at least longer than what could be reasonably expected. Frankl concluded that this was due to an ability to strive for meaning in the midst of the suffering.

Frankl’s work is not without critique, but his central thesis has remained with me for nearly thirty years. It seems that we are capable of bearing up under the worst of conditions. And though my own suffering pales in comparison to the extreme conditions Frankl describes, his thesis rings true to my own experience. The intrinsic search for meaning — the meaning for our suffering or, at the very least, the search for meaning in our suffering — is an essential element in reframing the story of our suffering.

This helps us to see ourselves, not as victims, but as survivors.

We need not turn away from the victimhood we experienced — at least not completely. In reality, sometimes we are victims — victims of someone else’s evil choices. But I think Frankl’s point is that we are not exclusively victims. By retaining our search for purpose, we become more than victims; we become survivors. Yes, this awful thing may have happened to us. But by self-ascribing purpose to our existence, we find the strength to live a different story, one of resilience and meaning. We reject the way in which suffering seeks to define us. Instead, we exercise agency over our lives in full, crafting a new narrative out of the suffering — a story of survival. This may take time, but I believe Frankl is right.

Suffering doesn’t have to be the defining feature of my life.

I choose to survive.

This gives my life meaning.

This becomes my story.