'I discovered every family has 6 distinct roles in it. It explains a lot.'

As a kid, I was determined to be one of the few people to achieve EGOT status (win an Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and a Tony).

Of course, I didn't have the talent to back me up.

But I did have the misplaced optimism of a kid who put on concerts for her teddy bears.

My big break came at the age of six. Image: Supplied.

Then, at age six, I booked the role of a lifetime! The one that was sure to kick-start my illustrious career!!

… Elf Number 2 at my local community theatre.

Is that Broadway calling??

Sadly, Elf Number 2 didn't end the night surrounded by casting agents. No, she ended it with a face-plant on stage (right before receiving a "most improved" award).

After the (very few) audience members and Elf Number 1 had finished gasping and suppressing their laughter, I stood up and accepted my red ribbon (a hue which now matched both my costume and burning cheeks).

The crowd roared in encouragement for the embarrassed elf (who wondered where that enthusiasm was when she delivered her line to the magic tree??).

I always thought Elf Number 2 was my first and final role… but I may have been wrong.

It turns out, I have been unknowingly starring in a production since I was born. Just not on stage… in my own home.

'I thought I understood my family dynamics, then I discovered the "six roles" theory.' Image: Supplied.

On a recent subscriber episode of Mamamia Out Loud, Jessie Stephens pointed to a theory that there are six roles within every family.

Jessie discovered the theory from American author Glennon Doyle. Speaking on her podcast, We Can Do Hard Things, Doyle likened roles within a family to roles within a play.

"It's like the whole family is in a production, and everybody is issued a character," Doyle said.

Doyle credits the idea to psychotherapist Virginia Satir, who is known as the Mother of Family Therapy. Satir noticed a pattern of personas (or characters) among families, while working with parents dealing with addiction.

There were six in total: The Hero, The Scapegoat, The Rescuer, The Lost Child, The Mascot, and The Identified Patient.

Further research found that these personas don't just show up in circumstances of addiction, but in any family dynamic (particularly in moments of high stress or dysfunction).

How we react in these circumstances, theoretically, determines which 'role' we fall into.

But what, exactly, are these roles? And how do they manifest in family situations?

Let's break it down.

The Hero.

First up, there's "The Hero" of the family.

"They see themselves as the leader, and make sure everyone is taken care of," Jessie told co-hosts Holly Wainwright and Em Vernem.

The Hero is often perceived as a "high achiever, highly competent, very driven" and gets a lot of positive reinforcement from their parents.

"The downfall is that they expect that from everyone else," Jessie added.

"They can be very critical, and they are looking for approval. They believe that if their success is big enough, everything will be okay."

The Scapegoat.

The second role is "The Scapegoat" or "The Black Sheep."

"This is the most honest [role] within the family," Jessie explained. "They externalise the family's problems. They identify the truth; they are fearless, and they are leaders."

The downfall of The Scapegoat is their tendency to "isolate themselves."

"They automatically want to differentiate themselves from the family unit, they see themselves as an outsider; they're very rarely at ease, and they are looking for something to explode about."

Watch: The family favouritism quiz that can help you understand your 'role'. Post continues below.

The Rescuer.

The third role is "The Rescuer" or "The Martyr."

"This person feels a personal responsibility to mediate and make peace," Jessie said, theorising that this is "often the middle child."

"They're protective, they're compassionate," she continued.

"Their downfall is they will often excuse or enable bad behaviour because they just want peace; they're attracted to people who need fixing, and they love being needed."

The Lost Child.

Number four is "The Lost Child" or "The Easy One."

"Interestingly, in terms of birth order, this type is often the youngest," Jessie said.

(As the youngest of two girls, I doubt my parents would describe me as "the easy one" — but I digress).

"They're a bit more quiet, they don't want to be a burden, they're risk-averse. Sometimes they're lacking social skills," Jessie continued.

"Their gift is that they're adaptive and independent, but their downfall is that they struggle to ask for help."

The Mascot.

That leads us to the penultimate role: "The Mascot" or "The Comedian."

"This person diffuses conflict in the family by being the centre of attention," Jessie said. 

"Again, it is often the youngest child, and they use comedy because it's the only way that they have a claim to power. They can kind of go, this is the way that people can look at me."

The Mascot is "adaptable and can deal with stress, but they're also desperate for approval from others, and they cover up negative emotions."

Listen to the full subscriber episode below. Post continues afterwards.

The Identified Patient.

Finally, there is "The Identified Patient" or "The Struggling One."

"This person is seen as the family's reason for having problems; they are the one that is blamed; this person might bring up family issues," Jessie said. 

"Their downfall is that they become the black sheep if they don't get better, or if the family does not align to help them."

On the plus side, The Patient "can also be really resilient, bring people together, and be a brilliant self-advocate."

So, where do I fall into this?

You may think my desire to be an EGOT winner places me firmly into The Mascot category. I mean, all the foundations were there, and that's the category I identify with most when looking back at childhood.

Growing up, I cannot count the number of times I made my mum film me singing an off-key rendition of Somewhere Over The Rainbow… or interrupting my dad to watch this "really cool dance" (an out-of-time twirl and clunky jazz hand).

"That's nice, honey," my indulgent parents would say.

But those performances (if you could call them that) didn't happen in moments of stress. At least, not to my naive eyes. My parents, though dealing with the pressures of adulthood, humoured my seven renditions of 'The Barney Theme Song' with saintly patience, shielding me from life's messy realities.

Then I grew up, and learnt the confronting truth; parents aren't unflappable, life is complicated, and EGOTs are bloody hard to achieve.

I'm definitely no longer the Mascot, so what is my role? The independent Lost Child? The conflict-avoiding Rescuer?

To be honest, falling neatly into just one role seems a near-impossible feat.

Life is complicated and unpredictable. For all I know, something could happen that lands me into the Identified Patient role by next week.

Jessie also shares the belief that you can "play more than one" role.

"The important disclaimer is that these roles can overlap," Jessie said.

Em agreed, noting that as someone grows, the roles are likely to change.

"I think a lot of these roles manifest when you're a kid, and then you can probably change when you become an adult."

So, while I probably won't get that EGOT, I still have many roles yet to play within my family.

No doubt I will trip up along the way. But hopefully, each stumble is a chance for another "most improved" ribbon (without the torn elf costume… sorry mum).

Feature Image: Supplied.