Faithful are the wounds of a friend; but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful.
— PROVERBS 27:5-61
Those who live closely with a narcissist—wives, husbands, partners, children, in particular—are required to be false to themselves. They learned in early childhood that it was unsafe to feel and express the full range of their emotions, even to think their own thoughts. People who throw their destinies in with a narcissist have never developed a real sense of self. Deep inside, they feel inadequate and worthless. When they encounter emotion in others, they label these individuals as characterlogically weak.
The capacity to feel deeply requires a psychological sureness and groundedness. When a person can cry freely, laugh heartily, or become justifiably angry, he lives fully; he embraces his humanity. He does not cringe over how others will perceive or judge him. His emotions are clear. They pour forth with unashamed naturalness.
Unexpressed and unremembered feelings cannot be buried. They voice themselves in our thoughts, dreams, sensations, and actions, in the functions of our bodies. Many people become ill as a result of malignant embedded emotions. Disowned feelings are the raw material of future autoimmune illnesses, psychosomatic disorders, cancers, and cardiovascular disease. The body always states the truth. We can delude our minds and close our hearts, but the body reveals our secrets. The body speaks the language of grief, rage, terror, hatred, envy, guilt, resentment, loss, and abandonment. As these emotions pass through the body, they transform the major organs, the hormones, the brain, the skeletal muscular system, the central nervous system.
Besides jeopardizing their psychological and physical health, those who live with narcissists, particularly spouses, rob themselves of vital opportunities to develop their unique creative gifts. They set aside their talents, drives, and dreams to spend huge amounts of time and energy at the disposal of a corporate wife or husband or an obsessive entrepreneur. The corporate culture of meetings, dinners, conferences, seminars, and travel is all consuming. One may wonder if the participant himself is gaining any value from the incessant cacophony of “business speak,” lethal rivalries, and the constant head butting at the center of deadly power games. For many husbands, wives, and children, who are expected to wait through the long weekends and late evenings, the recurrent pattern of making work “the priority” becomes wearying, discouraging, and exasperating. For narcissists who stand tall on the corporate ladder, their identities are tied to their careers as if by an umbilical cord. They are blind to the emotional harm they perpetrate in their eternal search for greater power and acclamation. When challenged, they intone ready excuses: “I’m the only one who knows how to handle this.” “I’m doing it for my family.” Or they utter the very familiar “I’m indispensable.”
For hundreds of years in England, those who worked for the aristocracy in their mansions and country homes dedicated themselves to a life of service, which at that time was considered to be part of a noble tradition. Servants, born of a lower class, were destined to spend their days attending to individuals who, as a result of birth alone, owned large properties and assets. The servants were simply possessions who could be held for a length of time or simply disposed of. They led dreary, predictable lives, unable to earn enough money to become financially independent and therefore personally free. The sweat of their labors was directed toward maintaining the social and economic position of their aristocratic masters. All decisions were made by the landowner or nobleman of the estate. Duties were clearly spelled out; loyalty and hard work were demanded and frugally rewarded. Infractions of the rules were severely punished. In the Western world, this system is formally extinct. Surprisingly, those who share their lives with a narcissist revisit many remnants of this now anachronistic life of service.
Meredith, the owner and CEO of a real estate development company that she inherited from her father, recently married James, her fifth husband. Although the company was very profitable before she became CEO, Meredith took credit for its success as if it had been her invention. James was handsome and debonair. In the beginning, he was flattered by the attention of such an accomplished woman. James was a gifted artist, but because of laziness and lack of ambition, he had never fulfilled his promise. In the early years of their marriage, he was willing to be the errand boy—to do anything that would please Meredith. He overlooked her legendary temperamental outbursts, paranoid accusations, and unreasonable demands. Meredith controlled every detail and decision of their public and private lives. Not the slightest move could be made without her approval. When James followed her instructions to the letter and a mistake was made by someone else, he was blamed and upbraided in front of others. He bowed to these degradations for many years until he became so furious that he could barely tolerate being in Meredith’s presence. James perpetually made plans to leave her, but each time his old terror of providing for himself and living on his own overwhelmed him. He hated this weakness but felt trapped and impotent. As time passed and the emotional fatigue of tolerating his life with Meredith wore him down; his role shifted from adoring, selfless servant to intimate enemy.
There is a psychological term called identification with the aggressor that refers to a syndrome that many kidnap victims and prisoners experience. Put in a life-or-death situation, realizing that he may be killed at any time, the victim begins to react favorably toward his kidnappers. In the shock of being kidnapped, he has lost his own identity and fused with the transgressor to save himself, internalizing his beliefs and values. Those who throw their fortunes in with the narcissist are often emotionally engulfed by him and have identified with their aggressor.
Intimates of a narcissist are trapped in the role of obedient child. They are not sufficiently grown up to experience themselves as separate, competent human beings, responsible for their own lives. They are uncomfortable activating their individuality, afraid of being assertive, of taking the initiative. In exchange for “security” (often economic), they surrender the intrinsic right to think and do and feel what is appropriate for them. Like a child who lives in fear of mother’s wrath over disobeying the rules, faithful servants of the narcissist continually monitor their behavior and follow the prescribed program. They delude themselves that they are protected and cared for like servants of the Old World. Psychologically, they remain children who will never grow up as long as they stay locked in this symbiotic relationship. The narcissist creates special roles for his intimates so they will better serve him. His wife plays the sophisticated, beautiful entrepreneur; the stunning philanthropist socialite; the adoring, decorous mother of his children. The narcissist is writer, director, producer, and casting director of his drama. All the parts are indelibly written and expected to be acted true to the unchangeable script. No one in this production is left untouched to ad-lib, to be joyfully spontaneous, to play his natural self.
The narcissist believes that only he is capable of an original thought. He shamelessly makes the creative concepts of others his own. Even a written “airtight” contract will not stop a narcissist from coopting the products of others.
Colin, a high-tech wizard, always thought of himself as a writer, despite his lack of imagination and written language skills. He dated Lorraine, a psychologist, for six months. During that time Colin became intrigued by her fully developed concept for a provocative book on office relationships between men and women. Colin listened attentively to Lorraine, taking notes on the subject as a way of showing interest in her. He became disenchanted with Lorraine. He now found her to be physically plain and predictably boring. A short time after the couple parted company, Colin, with the assistance of a talented collaborator, submitted Lorraine’s book concept to a literary agent as his own work. The book proposal was quickly accepted by an editor. Colin was delighted, taking full credit for having his first book published. He had long “forgotten” all the conversations he had ever had with his former girlfriend. Several years later, when Lorraine accidentally discovered that Colin had stolen her book concept, she had neither the money nor the energy to fight him. She felt psychologically violated and helpless to defend herself. She had trusted Colin with herself and her creative ideas. In return she had been maliciously double-crossed. Many months after this disclosure Lorraine was consumed by a gnawing rage.
The future partner of the narcissist was often the child of an arrogant, demanding, narcissistic parent. From his earliest days he was conditioned to respond to his parent’s arbitrary rules and whims. The narcissistic mother or father conducted himself as a dictator, without a conscience, immune to any outside authority. From the time they are very little, these children become experts at catering to the idiosyncratic needs of the narcissistic parent.
In other instances, those who end up in the shadows are raised by neglectful emotionally absent parents. When children have been treated without affection and care, they are incapable of creating intimate attachments. Beneath the psychological wounding lie feelings of helplessness, depression, and rage. These negative emotions are buried because the psychological pain that they wreak is unbearable. They are “forgotten,” left in the cold storage of the unconscious. Often the child who has felt unloved desperately seeks satisfaction by turning to a person who promises to satisfy his needs for attention and validation.
Those who cast themselves in shadow are psychologically hungry. Many of them attempt to satiate their appetites through obsessive searches for material possessions. They shop and collect compulsively to gratify an inner void that cannot be filled. Shopping is a food with limited sustenance. When we are on the hunt for “something we must have,” the adrenaline is pumping; we are aroused by the anticipation of discovering a “find,” a deal. After we have the item or bagfuls of booty in our possession for a while, the thrill and the glitter are muted. Soon we return to our quest for the “next new best thing.” The narcissist presents himself as a compelling prize, temptingly served with his promises that we will share his larger-than-life world. His grandiosity and supreme self-confidence fuel the follower’s childhood yearnings to finally feel valued.
Joanna could not remember much about her life before the age of ten. She had no memory of her biological father but recounted the comings and goings of a series of men in their modest household. Three of these were stepfathers, and the rest were her mother Sydney’s numerous boyfriends. Sydney was consumed by life dramas that involved her latest male conquest. Joanna spoke casually; “Mama was always falling in love.” Sydney predictably lived through a series of “love” cycles: hunting for a man, falling in love, the honeymoon period, the settling in and making plans sequence, the inevitable stormy breakup, and then the ugly abandonment finale. Sydney’s preoccupation with her “I’ve got to have a man” episodes siphoned time and attention from her daughter. Joanna was left alone, to fend for herself.
By mid-adolescence Joanna was dating men in their late twenties. At eighteen, while working part-time, she met Kyle, the owner of a large department store. Twice divorced, Kyle had four children, whom he ignored and hardly acknowledged as his own. Kyle was slick and cocky. At age forty he led the life of a freewheeling bachelor. Joanna was immediately attracted to Kyle’s rough handsomeness and reckless bad-boy manner. Kyle began to flirt openly with Joanna, and before three months passed the two of them were regularly intimate. The secrecy of the affair made it all the more alluring for her. Joanna became pregnant and used her upcoming mother role to force Kyle to marry her. Kyle had a short attention span in the character and loyalty department. After Joanna gave birth, although she was still physically very pretty, Kyle didn’t find her attractive anymore. For two years Joanna tried desperately to hold the marriage together. She couldn’t imagine being without Kyle; he was the focus of her life. After many bitter confrontations and attempts at reconciliation, Kyle abandoned Joanna without the least regret. Joanna felt a deep unrelenting hurt; at the same time she mentally plotted revenge. Divorce eventually followed, but Joanna never let go of her contemptuous feelings for Kyle. He was the enemy.
The seeds of hatred are planted slowly, in small increments of cruelty, devaluation, and abuse. Their tiny tendrils thrive in an environment of control, humiliation, and blame. In the beginning, the amorous waters flow effortlessly between the narcissist and his chosen one. Narcissists are highly skilled in the arts of seduction and manipulation and single-minded in getting whom and what they want. It is difficult if not impossible to say no to someone who is so talented at the chase. The narcissist will pursue someone relentlessly only to discover that they won’t satisfy his desires. Acting without sensitivity or conscience, the narcissist reflexively drops the person he has hunted so passionately and moves on to the next victim. The course of the harvest of hatred often follows this pattern: idolization, sweet possession, drinking deeply from the trough, the final disillusionments.
The Egyptian pharaoh, a living god, exercised total domination over the life and death of his subjects. Since they were his human possessions, he determined their earthly fates. Pharaoh commanded armies of slaves to build him a pyramid worthy of his godly status. Decades of work under hellish suns, hoisting boulders by hand, they sacrificed their lives on projects that would bring eternal homage to their master. When he died, pharaoh was elaborately mummified to ensure resurrection in the next world. In a final gesture of annihilation, pharaoh’s slaves were forced to certain death as the last great stone sealed the magnificent tomb. Like Egyptian pharaohs, narcissists expect to be treated as living gods. Marital partners and mistresses, though externally indulged, will have paid the price of squelching inherent talents, wasting precious time, and blocking their opportunities for an evolving growth as individuals. As blind followers and worshipers, those who remain loyal to the narcissist to the end suffocate in the airless deadly sealed space of their pharaoh’s tomb.
Casting one’s lot with a narcissist means that your life no longer belongs to you. Your mental freedom and psychological space are invaded. All decisions, behaviors, opinions, and beliefs are filtered through his microscopic lens. The narcissist creates an unbroken fusion with his intimates, treating them like the intricately woven fabric of his own personality. They have meaning only as reflections of his perfect self. Allison, aged twenty-four, was attracted to powerful men who wielded influence in the world and earned large sums of money. At twenty-three, she was engaged to Roy, a fifty-seven-year-old thrice-married vascular surgeon. Manipulative and deceptive, Roy, a classic narcissist, was drawn solely to Allison’s youthful beauty, her sexual magnetism, and emotional malleability. He was confident of possessing and controlling her. She was mesmerized by Roy’s professional success and the excessive adulation that he commanded as a prominent surgeon. Allison was thrilled by Roy’s attention; he was the most dynamic and sophisticated man she had ever met. The possession phase is the early season in the relationship. Allison surrendered her will to Roy as smoothly and completely as a surgical patient who feels the welcomed oblivion of the first drops of a narcotic in his vein.
Leftover emotional deficits and traumas from childhood arise and are reenacted by those who are possessed by the narcissistic partner. They want someone else to take over for them. They are afraid to accept responsibility for their lives. Those who fall under the spell of the narcissist drink deeply from his trough of assurances and fantasies, hoping to have their earliest and most compelling psychological needs fulfilled. They are desperate for some kind of recognition, even if they do not earn it themselves. Sharing their lives with a strong personality who appears to be in complete command of his life offers them a way of feeling important and distinctive. They have convinced themselves that they will be cared for and protected by a dominant personality; they believe they have found a safe harbor from life’s unpredictable storms.
Relationships with narcissists always end badly. They often culminate in financial ruin, emotional devastation, physical illness, even death. They can terminate as precipitously as they started or span over many decades. Their length is dependent on how useful you are to the narcissist and how much psychological abuse you can tolerate. In some cases, the partner of a narcissist has become too ill psychologically or physically to withstand the association any longer. The narcissist effortlessly replaces those who are worn and tired with a fresh face, a bright-eyed adoring disciple.
The narcissist as raconteur is an individual at his most expansive self. With the spotlight overhead, he stacks story upon story that feature him as star of the show. As he speaks, each detail is embroidered or fictionalized to heighten the drama and elicit maximum response from his audience. At age sixty-five, George spent most of his time traveling and partying with his wife, Suzanne. Building on the success of his father’s construction business, George had accumulated a fortune that had allowed him to be retired comfortably for the last twenty years. Suzanne, his fifth wife, thought she had become inured to all of George’s eccentricities. At the beginning, she learned how to look adoringly as he regaled anyone who would listen with his heroic business war stories. After many years Suzanne could no longer cope with his pathological self-centeredness, his outrageous demands, and his cutting reprimands. She wore a steely smile when George went on one of his nonstop “me” monologues, recoiling with nausea as he told the same story for the thousandth time. At this point in her life, Suzanne was finished, completely disillusioned by her marriage. Each night she was determined to leave George. She deeply regretted all the missed opportunities. She had given away too much of herself. As she lay inches from him in the dark, she hated herself for clinging to this selfish, heartless man. In the morning she woke up and wondered if she could ever give up the privileged “identity” she enjoyed. For the time being, she would perform her mission. Deep below the surface, Suzanne seethed and hissed like a tiger about to mount an attack.