Sentenced to life with a Narcissist? It can be survivable, even thrivable…
(This post was originally published on my Substack)
Have you noticed that long after the relationship with a narcissist ends, it’s always still there, in a way? I’ve marveled, how long does it takes for the antics to disappear? Is there a timetable that calculates the lasting repercussions even after it ends? It’s like throwing a rock in still water, how long do the ripples last?
I try to calculate. Mine began in 1984, legally bound in 1989, legally separated in 2011, legally unbound in 2013, legally financially unbound in 2016. Is there a math formula that can calculate just how long?! Then I think, add children (I have three) into that and the calculation changes. Even though my relationship ended, I now watch my adult children navigate the same selfishly-tainted waters that I grew used to, and then exhausted of, years prior. It doesn’t end, it lives on through their experiences. And there’s yet another variable that we must add to the calculation—a tactic from the web of deceit that the narcissist spun for years (starting when I left him). It includes baiting and trapping others (in my case, my relatives) into the sticky entanglement he created, all to keep me small and his role as the eternal victim alive. (Ahhh, the tangled web he weaved.)
By adding the calculations above up, I have deduced, entering into a relationship with a narcissist becomes a life sentence. And I am here to say, the only thing you can do is heal yourself. Work on yourself. And light a path for your children to work on themselves too. That is exactly what I have done. I didn’t know I was doing that, not really, at the beginning. But eventually, it became so apparent to me that, little by little, I was absolving all the hurt. Transmuting all the pain. This healing business I entered into unknowingly was real. The realness of it felt surreal at first. I remember finishing the Hoffman Process in 2015 and thinking, Did I just hallucinate this whole week? This me is more real than I have ever known! And the ten years since have been even more transformational, and thank goodness, because the Circus of the Narcissist continues its run, out there, somewhere. I have built resilience, and that’s what is needed to survive.
If I were stuck in my wounding, this life sentence would feel weighted in doom. Instead, the energetic attachment to my old life is nearly non-existent (and I say this in all earnestness, if you knew me then and know me now, you’d know this to be true). And what I mean is, who I was in that relationship was a shell of myself. I’m empowered now. I know a fuller version of myself. Who I am belongs solely to me. I’ve said this before: healing is not for the faint-hearted. The redemption of doing the hard inner work is that the life sentence feels less so.
Each layer of wounding I peeled off, hung up to dry, watch petrify and decompose, transmuted and transformed into my renewal. I see, feel, and know true healing. When all hope felt lost, I clung onto an uncertainty and trusted there would be more for me. I surrendered to the hole I was in (truly, I had no choice— it was that deep and dark) and trusted the darkness would reveal a new light. I had a deep felt sense that an expansive rich meadow of love and possibilities was awaiting me. I wrote at the time, I inhabit a space still foreign to me, yet with a vague longing, I can sense its familiarity. I cried out to nothing but felt and heard answers in the silence. The comfort of suffering was warm and welcoming, compared to the relentless silence and cold of cohabitating with a narcissist.
If you have read this far, I’m guessing you too have unknowingly entered into a life sentence with a narcissist. Please know there is hope. Hang onto hope. If I can set myself free of the dysfunction, you can too. You have to be willing to disrupt your life. You have to choose your sanity over his insanity. You have to recognize that you deserve better. You have to find a tiny shred of self worth. And if you have kids, you must be willing to recognize what you are modeling for them. Is this the type of relationship you hope for them someday? You have to confront shame. When I asked my then-husband, “Someday would you want our kids to be treated by their spouses as you treat me?” There was no hesitation in his reply, immediately he said “No, I would never allow them to be treated the way I treat you.” Oddly, at the time I was grateful he was going to be a protective parent. It took some time to sink in that he meant it was ok for him to treat me as he did, and that he was disgusted at that treatment. So, you can see, modeling for them what they deserve is essential. I needed to break a pattern. Or at least attempt to by saving myself first.
Sadly, the dysfunction doesn’t stop because the divorce papers are signed. Depending on the narcissist, the ripple of their pathology continues, it keeps moving— quietly and covertly— through those more vulnerable or unaware. Know that people have a hard time accepting that what they see, isn’t what they are getting. They are seduced by the performance of the narcissist. Bearing witness to the seduction is one of the hardest pills to swallow.
In the first years after the split, I had to bear witness to my children being seduced. By this time, I started on my inner work path so I knew enough to let it be. The covert assault was a tactical onslaught meant to divide me from them. And it did for a time with one of them. But because I was more equipped to handle the unwanted circus, I was able to remain mostly steady. That’s not to say, I wasn’t deeply hurt, but I was able to use the tools I learned at Hoffman to transform the hurt into healing. The repetition of the continuous circus acts enabled me to build resilience by practicing these new tools. What I didn’t see at the time was that a by-product of me doing inner work would gift my children later on.
They watched me dodge, bob and weave every sword thrown at me— with an open, albeit broken, heart and a deep well of patience. They saw me hurt, and they saw me heal. As they traversed between the two terrains of my house and their dad’s house, they could witness for themselves what each home offered to them. I saw them come home to me with the same vacant looks on their faces that I held for decades in my attempts to survive. It always took a couple days for the kids to realize they don’t have to be defended. It took time for their anxiety to dissipate.
They’d come home from the circus to me. What can I say? I was just living my life as I always wanted to, with ease, love, and understanding. When my kids got to the point where the narcissistic behavior affected their mental health, they felt safe to share with me. And because they saw my extreme fall and rise, I know they sensed they too could heal their own wounding. I was a mirror for healing. I’m proud to mirror something good for them. When they were children, that mirror was a mirage.
No matter how old my kids are, they will have a lot to contend with. That is the card I drew for them. This is why doing inner work is necessary not only for your own survival but also for your children. They see everything! The narcissist never goes away. In fact, as my children entered middle school, the atmosphere in our house got worse. I believe it’s because the emotional maturity of my kids started to surpass their father’s. Narcissists are the petulant toddlers whose toys get taken away. They are determined to be heard and will walk all over the hearts of you and their children to get it. Remember, for them, there are no rules— they make the rules and they break them just the same. They will always be the victim. Even when they claim to take responsibility and start throwing around the latest psychological catch phrases they learned from their new therapist, it’s just another attempt to control the dialogue— the very same storyline they rewrote when you called it quits.
In my fantasy world, I would have a normal relationship with my ex. And in our new relationships, my kids would have two sets of parents they can rely on. But that is only a pipe dream. I’ve accepted my past choices with forgiveness and compassion. I do see how my choices shaped my journey and I’m capable of holding gratitude for the lessons learned.
That said, the only armor I have is my transformational work. It was long, and hard but the rewards are tenfold. The richness of my life is held in this place. A place I now get to live with— everyday! My life is easy. I know love and joy. I am surviving, and dare I say, thriving!
You can, too.