When Accountability Gets Turned Upside Down: Understanding DARVO
- Aug 4
- 6 min read

There is a psychological pattern I have become increasingly aware of, and once you recognise it, you start seeing it in certain relationships and situations more clearly.
It is called DARVO.
The acronym stands for Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender.
The concept was developed by psychologist Jennifer J. Freyd to describe a response that can occur when someone is confronted about harmful behaviour. Instead of taking responsibility, they deny what happened, attack the person who confronted them, and then position themselves as the victim while making the actual victim appear to be the offender.
What makes DARVO so confusing is that it can completely turn a situation upside down.
The person who raised the concern suddenly finds themselves defending their character.
The person who was hurt suddenly finds themselves apologising.
The person who caused the problem suddenly becomes the one demanding sympathy.
And before you know it, the original issue has disappeared completely.
First comes the denial
The first part is Deny.
“I didn’t do that.”
“That never happened.”
“You’re remembering it wrong.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“That’s not what I said.”
Sometimes denial is very direct. Other times, it is much more subtle. The details may be changed. The context may be rewritten. The conversation may be presented differently. The person may acknowledge a tiny part of what happened while completely denying the larger issue. And this is where I think people can become very confused, particularly when they are dealing with someone who is extremely articulate. You can walk into a conversation knowing exactly why you are upset and walk out questioning your own memory.
Then comes the attack
When denial doesn’t work, the next step can become Attack.
Instead of addressing what you raised, the focus suddenly shifts onto you.
“You’re always like this.”
“You’re too sensitive.”
“You’re the manipulative one.”
“You’re unstable.”
“You have your own issues.”
“Look at what you’ve done.”
Suddenly, the conversation isn’t about what happened anymore. It’s about who you supposedly are as a person.
And I think this is one of the most effective ways to derail accountability. Because once the discussion becomes about your character, you can find yourself spending all your energy defending yourself instead of discussing the original behaviour.
You are no longer asking:
“Why did you do that?”
You are now trying to prove:
“I’m not the person you’re saying I am.”
And the original issue gets lost.
Then comes the reversal
This is the part of DARVO that I find particularly powerful. The Reverse Victim and Offender part. The person who was confronted about their behaviour suddenly becomes the victim.
They may talk about how hurt they are.
How unfairly they have been treated.
How nobody appreciates them.
How they have been attacked.
How much they have done for others.
How they are the ones who have been mistreated.
And suddenly, the person who originally came forward with the hurt is now being portrayed as the aggressor.
The roles have completely reversed.
The person who was hurt is now apologising for upsetting the person who hurt them. And the person who caused the original harm is receiving comfort and sympathy. That is the part that can leave people emotionally exhausted and incredibly confused.
Why DARVO is so effective
I think part of the reason DARVO works is because most decent people don’t actually want conflict. When someone tells us that we have hurt them, many of us naturally stop and think:
“Did I do something wrong?”
“Did I misunderstand?”
“Was I unfair?”
“Should I apologise?”
We have empathy. We are willing to examine ourselves.
So when someone responds to our concern by becoming extremely upset, angry or hurt, we can instinctively move into comforting them.
And before we realise what has happened, we are comforting the person we originally approached because they hurt us. That is the reversal.
DARVO can make accountability feel impossible.
One of the most exhausting things about this pattern is that there doesn’t seem to be a productive way to have a conversation.
If you raise an issue, you are attacked.
If you defend yourself, you’re accused of being defensive.
If you become upset, you’re called emotional.
If you withdraw, you’re accused of punishing them.
If you try to explain yourself, the conversation becomes even longer.
And if you finally apologise just to end the conflict, that apology can become “proof” that you were the problem all along.
Eventually, you begin to realise that the goal of the conversation may never have been resolution.
It may have been avoidance of accountability.
Not every disagreement is DARVO
I think this distinction is important. Not every person who becomes defensive is engaging in DARVO. Sometimes people genuinely misunderstand each other. Sometimes someone is falsely accused and naturally becomes defensive. Sometimes both people have contributed to a conflict. Sometimes emotions get out of control. And sometimes a person genuinely needs time before they can acknowledge that they were wrong.
DARVO is about recognising a pattern, not labelling someone based on one argument.
The question isn’t:
“Did they defend themselves once?”
The question is:
“Does this repeatedly happen whenever they are confronted with their own behaviour?”
Do they consistently deny?
Do they attack?
Do they redirect the conversation?
Do they make themselves the victim?
Do they make you the offender?
And does the original issue somehow never get addressed?
That pattern is what matters.
The importance of staying with the original issue
One thing I have learned is that sometimes the healthiest response is to keep bringing the conversation back to the original issue. Not every accusation needs to be defended. Not every insult needs a response. Not every psychological analysis of you needs to be disproved.
Sometimes you simply need to say:
“We can discuss my behaviour separately. Right now, I am talking about what happened here.”
Because there is always going to be something else that can be brought into the conversation. There is always another mistake from five years ago. Another person who supposedly did something worse. Another reason why you shouldn’t be raising this particular issue.
But accountability doesn’t work that way. Someone else’s mistakes don’t erase yours. And your mistakes don’t erase theirs. Two things can be true at the same time.
Accountability isn’t an attack
I think this is something we have forgotten.
Being held accountable isn’t the same thing as being attacked. Someone saying, “Your behaviour hurt me” isn’t necessarily an attack on your character. It can simply be an invitation to take responsibility.
A healthy response doesn’t have to be:
“You’re wrong.”
It can be:
“I didn’t intend to hurt you, but I can understand that I did.”
There is enormous emotional maturity in being able to separate intent from impact.
You may not have intended to hurt someone. But if you did, you can still acknowledge their experience. You don’t have to agree with every detail of their perspective to recognise that they are hurting.
What real accountability looks like
Real accountability is actually quite simple.
It sounds like:
“I was wrong.”
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I understand why that hurt you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ll try to handle it differently next time.”
And importantly, there doesn’t always need to be a “but.”
“I’m sorry, but you…”
“I’m sorry, but you made me…”
“I’m sorry, but look what you did…”
Once the apology becomes an explanation for why the other person is actually responsible, it isn’t really accountability anymore.
Don’t lose yourself trying to prove your reality.
Perhaps the biggest lesson I take from understanding DARVO is this:
You don’t have to win every argument in order to trust your own experience.
You don’t have to convince someone that they hurt you before your hurt becomes legitimate.
You don’t have to accept someone else’s version of events simply because they explain it more confidently.
And you don’t have to allow every conversation to become an examination of your character.
Sometimes the healthiest thing you can do is step back and recognise the pattern.
Not everything needs to be argued.
Not everything needs to be explained.
And not everyone is genuinely interested in resolution.
Some people are more interested in being right than being accountable.
The real measure of a person
Ultimately, I don’t think someone’s character is measured by whether they ever make mistakes.
We all do. I think it is measured by what they do when their mistakes are brought to their attention.
Can they listen?
Can they reflect?
Can they apologise?
Can they accept that they may have caused pain?
Can they change?
Or do they immediately deny, attack and turn themselves into the victim?
Because mistakes are human.
Refusing accountability is a choice.
And perhaps the greatest thing we can learn from understanding DARVO is not how to label other people. It is how to recognise when a conversation has stopped being about resolution and has become about reversing responsibility. Once you recognise that pattern, you become less likely to lose yourself trying to defend against every accusation. You can simply return to the truth of the original issue.
Accountability does not require humiliation.
Acknowledging that you were wrong does not make you weak.
And being the person who was hurt does not make you the offender simply because someone else has become better at telling the story.





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