Grieving the Narcissist: It’s Complicated

I sat in my quiet office one evening, a warm glow from the lamp casting a soft light over my desk. I had just wrapped up another fulfilling day, guiding clients as they navigated their own paths through narcissistic abuse recovery — a journey I know intimately. Three years ago, after thirty years in a marriage to a narcissist, I made the hard decision to walk away, choosing myself over a relationship that had drained me of so much.

At first, the silence felt heavy, and every room in my home felt strangely empty. I realized that I wasn’t just grieving the end of a relationship — I was grieving a whole life I had imagined. I was mourning the love I thought we shared, the future I’d envisioned, and the years I’d spent believing that, somehow, we could make it work.

These days, I’ve found a new freedom and joy in life. I’ve built a thriving private practice supporting the journeys of other survivors of narcissistic abuse, I’m surrounded by incredible friends, and my home feels like a peaceful retreat. But grief has a funny way of showing up, sometimes without warning. Most days, I feel completely content — I can go about my day, laugh with friends, enjoy my work, and feel grateful for the life I’ve created. Then there are other days, when old memories creep in, and I find myself wondering if he’s changed or feeling a strange urge to check in, just to say “hi.”

I know deep down that reaching out would only lead me down a familiar road I’ve worked so hard to avoid. So, instead, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and let the feeling pass. I meditate, focusing on the present, and remind myself of the peace I’ve found. I’ve learned to let the grief wash over me when it needs to, trusting that it’s part of my process. I know healing isn’t always straightforward — it’s complicated. And I accept that.

One evening, after a particularly emotional day, I picked up my pen and started to write down everything I’d learned, hoping to share it with others on this journey of healing from narcissistic abuse. I wanted to reach out not just as a therapist but as someone who is also working through the grief, alongside them.

What I Want You to Know

Grieving a relationship with a narcissist is unlike anything else. When we end these relationships, we’re left with a tangled mess of feelings — loss, confusion, and maybe even relief. In relationships like these, we get caught up in a trauma bond, a powerful attachment that grows from the constant highs and lows. This kind of bond makes it incredibly hard to let go because it ties together good memories with painful ones, making it hard to separate the two.

After leaving, the grief often feels overwhelming because we’re grieving both the person we loved and the person we hoped they would be. Even if we know, deep down, that ending things was for the best, our hearts may still cling to the “what-ifs” and the hope that things could have been different.

But here’s what I want you to know: healing doesn’t mean erasing or forgetting what happened. Healing means letting yourself feel all of it — the sadness, the relief, the confusion. It’s allowing yourself to move forward without having to push those feelings away. On days when the urge to look back feels strong, trust yourself. Use grounding practices that help you stay connected to the present, and reach out to the support systems around you.

Healing is a complicated journey, but it’s worth every step. Remember, on the good days and the tough ones, that you’re not alone. Grief may be part of the process, but it doesn’t define your progress. Embrace each day for what it is, and know that you’re exactly where you need to be.