Narcissistic partners
Breaking the Chains of Confinement and Abuse From a Narcissistic Lover
I didn’t look out for the red flags and then it was too late
He still had me by my hair and, physically, I was trapped.
Mentally, the jury was still out on who would cave first but I knew this was my only chance. To wait patiently for my opportunity, trusting that it would come eventually.
Breathe. Slow and steady. In…hold…out…in…hold…out…
Centring myself, despite the panic doing its best to rise and overcome me, I kept control and believed.
I believed it would all be okay. One day…
On that occasion, I did it. I got out.
Remaining still and patient. Waiting for him to give up. I didn’t try to get away until I knew I had a real opportunity to escape without him managing to catch me.
I’d had long enough to look for an escape route — the window, open just a crack, was exactly what I needed. I was fit and nimble and would climb up in no time. I needed just long enough and I would push it open, leap out the other side, and run to my car.
When that moment came, I went for it. He tried to grab me to pull me back but I was gone before he could get a good hold.
Determination speaks for a lot.
The fall from grace
Our relationship had begun in the same way so many others did. Deep attraction, passion, and a belief that this love was meant to be.
Tom fell headlong too. It wasn’t that he had no feelings. Far from it, he had too many, it seemed. Too many to be able to control, anyway. Too many to be able to have a handle on how he processed them.
And, it seemed, he had no desire to take responsibility for processing them. That is where we differed, and where he differed from a normal, healthy human being. The compassion and empathy that comes with seeing the effect of one’s behaviours on another, followed by self-reflection, reflecting on actions taken and choices made — that is how healthy relationships grow.
The problem comes when the actions and behaviours of one are blamed on the other party. That never works, no matter what the actions or behaviours are. And when those actions and behaviours are intimidating, threatening, and frightening for the other party, combined with the shirking of responsibility, it becomes complete manipulation.
That, in all its essence, is narcissism.
Let’s talk about narcissism.
For a long time, I believed that Tom could not be labelled a narcissist since he didn’t fall entirely under the definition you may find in Google.
However, what I came to realise over time was that narcissism is not one single definition. It cannot be categorised and placed in a box.
Many people can exhibit aspects of a narcissistic personality without ever coming close to being seen as an actual narcissist. We’re human, after all, and we are not perfect. However, when more aspects of the narcissistic personality show up in a person’s behaviour, a pattern can become noticeable. And that is when we see someone who is, undoubtedly, on the narcissistic spectrum.
No one has to have all the traits of a narcissist to be on the spectrum. Chances are that if you are experiencing any of the following from your significant other, you are likely to be in a partnership with someone with pronounced narcissism:
- Outbursts that can come out of the blue.
- Reasoning from your partner that convinces you that you were responsible for that outburst, despite not knowingly doing anything to trigger it at the time.
- Conversations that centre around your interactions with others — narcissists always compare themselves to other people, leading to…
- Extreme jealousy of how you treat others, and believing you are developing romantic feelings for others.
Back to Tom and my relationship…
I fell in love and the feeling was overwhelming.
But when I think back to that time, the heyday that normally comes with falling in love was very short-lived.
The excitement was interrupted by feelings of doubt. This doubt was caused by actions and behaviours Tom displayed that made me question this relationship from a very early point.
Sometimes Tom said things that sounded worryingly unintelligent. Rather than see these as the red flags that they were, I berated myself for having feelings of superiority and considering myself better and more intelligent than him.
I believed it was wrong to feel this way. The fact was, however, that I thought and behaved in more intelligent ways. I took more time to consider my actions and their consequences. I took more time to consider how I might respond in a way that doesn’t upset another or cause conflict. And I took time to consider how another might interpret the words I said.
My mistake was thinking that I was assuming myself to have a superior mind to Tom, yet failing to see that it was okay to judge unintelligent behaviour and reconsider my own position with someone who behaved in this way.
Years later, I see what a brilliant mind Tom has. He has a mind that can engineer pretty much anything, from turning an old push bike into a motorised one, or digitally building an AI assistant for a business.
I can’t do any of that. But I can write anything and grab people with my words. And I can articulate concepts and ideas in ways that he simply couldn’t.
A brilliant mind, however, could not help him to act intelligently at those moments that counted.
That brilliant mind did not govern his relational behaviours. It played no part at all when paranoia set in and he believed anything could be interpreted as an insult to him. And it was that paranoia that made me see a man who lacked intelligence in those unforeseen moments.
Other early red flags included his teenage daughter telling me how her dad was so much less angry since he had met me, and that his mother seemed to be involved in much of his day-to-day life.
When I asked Tom’s teenage daughter to explain what she meant regarding anger, she told me that he was often having fits of anger and shouting at her or at his mother. But, since he had been with me, he had been much happier.
I believe she thought she was complimenting me by saying this but all it did was fill me with angst. Intuitively I knew that this was not a good sign. I may be making him happy right now but, as we all know, the honeymoon period of a relationship won’t last forever and the traits of someone’s personality that have been suppressed by those feelings of happiness will re-emerge.
As for the presence of his mother, while there was something lovely about being able to get to know her so well before Tom and I had even become a couple, I quickly saw conflict arising due to me taking Tom’s attention from her. Over time, I would see the protective mother in her emerge with every fight that Tom and I had; whether it manifested in colluding against me with her son or putting herself forward as the mediator, she was always there. And this was a seriously unhealthy trait in a relationship.
The final red flag I want to mention arose when I was already withdrawing out of pure exhaustion from the intensity of his constant presence in my life and he picked up on it.
Alarmed that I may be having a change of heart, he called me to tell me his thoughts on my desire for space from him.
He shared that he had thought about my past and how he realised that, due to never having had a proper relationship before, I didn’t know how to behave in a real one. He told me that I needed to trust him and let him show me how a real relationship worked.
In other words, if there were any problems arising already, I was the cause. And, if I was questioning anything, that was purely because I was lacking the experience that he already had. Therefore, I shouldn’t listen to my own inner thought processes, and only to him.
I supressed my initial surprise that he was taking this matter so seriously and assuming a role that allowed him to make such judgments about my life before him. That should have been a warning but I let it go because I wanted so much to give this relationship a chance to become something wonderful, and I believed that patience would bring that into fruition.
Meanwhile, the incident had planted a seed of self-doubt that just began to grow and bloom. And so began the long road of self-questioning, and, from then on, I began to always assume responsibility in every single disharmonious moment in our relationship.
If I could go back and change anything, I would have taken notice of those early red flags and trusted my instincts that these were signs to get out early.
No matter how strong the feelings of love can be in the beginning, it can quickly dissipate when a bad taste begins to set in.
It wasn’t love that kept me there when I began tasting something off with Tom. It was guilt.
It was guilt at having wrapped him in the love I felt, only to want to withdraw it again. It was guilt and shame for offering myself into this relationship 100%, only to change my mind this quickly.
It was guilt at having no true justification for ending my relationship other than a bad feeling about him.
But his manipulation and gaslighting were already working to make me question myself and my integrity. My unfounded guilt was the sign that something was off, but I didn’t listen to it.
I saw my change of heart as a personality failure — a fickleness to which I had made him a victim — and it was my harsh self-judgment that was responsible for keeping me there.
I am currently writing a book about how I came through an abusive relationship, in the hopes that it may help others who find themselves trapped in such circumstances. This is a section from my draft so far. I would love to hear from anyone with whom this resonates.
If you are currently experiencing abuse in your relationship, please know that there are organisations in every country that can help you. Please search and get the help you need.
Relationships are not easy, by any definition. But no one should be subjected to the kind of suffering that abusive partners inflict on the one they are supposed to love and cherish. A relationship is not meant to be unhappy or painful.
