What Does Communication with an Overt Narcissist Look Like?
It wasn’t all bad. I remember the good times, when he gave the kind of love and affection I’d always dreamed of. We had those magical date nights where everything felt perfect. He made me feel special, like I was the only person in the world who mattered to him. I was madly in love, and I would have done anything for him. In fact, I DID do everything for him — sacrificing myself over and over again because I thought that’s what love was supposed to be.
But there was always an undercurrent I couldn’t ignore. Many date nights revolved around drinking, and what started as fun would turn into arguments by the end of the night. The alcohol brought out two different sides of him — the fun loving husband who doted over his adoring wife, then the pressofure doing things to please him, with my own needs and feelings taking a back seat. I began to lose sight of myself. He was so good at making me feel like HE was the priority, and I convinced myself that putting him first meant I was being a good wife.
The worst part was when things were good, they were really good. It’s what kept me hanging on and loving him unconditionally. The affection, the compliments, the intimacy — it was all so intoxicating that I didn’t realize how much I was giving up. I couldn’t tell the difference between gaslighting and control vs loveboming and security. He was a master at twisting my words and making me feel like I was the one in the wrong. I started questioning my own reality. Was I too sensitive? Was I imagining things? He made me doubt everything I felt.
Over time, I became so conditioned to avoid conflict that I stopped speaking up for myself. Every time I tried to express how I felt, he’d turn the conversation around until I was the one apologizing. I even learned not to raise my voice because he had conditioned me to believe that if I did, I was disrespecting him. The gaslighting was so intense, filled with arrogance and demanding authority that I began to believe it.
In social situations, I became silent. I’d watch him rile people up, starting debates just for the thrill of arguing, while I sat quietly, relieved that at least this time it wasn’t directed at me. I made myself invisible because at least I wasn’t being manipulated. I played the role of the “perfect wife,” the one who didn’t argue, who didn’t make waves, who just supported him, and made him look good.
The real turning point came when I realized the only way to survive was to stop caring. I stopped caring if he “won” every argument. I stopped caring if he didn’t agree with me, or if he refused to validate my feelings. Instead, I stopped needing him to see my worth. I let him have all the attention he craved because I knew the only way to ”win” was to get out. I was done fighting for his approval, done trying to get him to love me the way I deserved.
Once I was able to emotionally detach, everything became clear: He wasn’t capable of giving me the love or support I needed. Accepting this hurt deeply, but it also freed me. I didn’t need his love or validation anymore. Instead, I started to focus on my own needs, my own healing. I stopped sacrificing myself for him and began to practice self-love. That’s what ultimately gave me the strength to leave.
Looking back, I see how much of myself I lost in trying to make the marriage work. But today, I feel free. I’m no longer living for someone else, and I’m no longer afraid of being misunderstood or manipulated. I can live my life fully, confidently, and unapologetically as me.
I now know that my feelings are valid, and I deserve so much more than what I was conditioned to accept. The road to freedom starts with detaching from the narcissist’s control and choosing to love yourself first. It’s not easy, but it’s possible — and you CAN break free!
