The topic of narcissism is touchy for some because it has spread so much in our society. Being fake, perversion, selfishness, corruption and greed are all things we are seeing more openly – doctors, coaches, politicians, priests – many people cannot distinguish between even themselves and a narcissist anymore. Indeed the people we trust and the very foundation our society is built upon are proving to be driven by narcissism. As a result, it can be easy for people to become entangled with narcissists and not even realize it. It’s not always “drama” you’re dealing with; many times it can be narcissism.
Throughout my lifetime I’ve come across many narcissist (narcs) and have compiled some common characteristics, as well as suggested ways to handle these types of people. The strongest differences I have found between someone who is a narc and someone who isn’t are: reactions and choices with regards to the truth. The truth is a narcissist’s Achilles’ heel. Remember that. All you have to do is speak the truth to or about a narcissist, and you will see them squirm, hiss, and resist.
All narcs are the same; they are not unique or creative people. They only vary in degrees of how far they are willing to go to maintain their lies (which is commensurate with the hatred they harbor). These examples serve to give insight as to just how “everyday” or common narcissists can be, and how the ways in which they choose to face their realities expose who they really are.
“…let’s try to understand them.
Let’s try to figure out why they do what they do.”
-Dale Carnegie
How common is it?
She stands in the mirror looking at her true self. Her feet and ankles are permanently swollen, and speckles of dust fly into the air as she brushes her wig; she can’t be seen without it, and it is the only one she has. There is a small square-shaped patch of hair at the top of her head, like that of a Troll doll, and the scarf she uses to hold it down gives her the look of being completely bald. The skin on her face is dull and bumpy from years of piling on makeup; she can’t be seen without that either.
There is a vast emptiness in her apartment; only a bed, a dresser, and water in the fridge, nothing more. When she steps out of her covert emptiness she steps into another daily debacle. Her car is old and worn to the point where she doesn’t want anyone to see it on the inside, just like she doesn’t want anyone to see her living quarters on the inside, just like she doesn’t want anyone to see her on the inside. No coincidence really. She has no idea just how much her external reality is a reflection of her internal state of being…or maybe she does, and that’s why she hides so much. 
She told stories of being severely abused by her mother, never having a father, and experiencing abuse in relationships as an adult. She told stories of having to sell plasma to get by. She told stories of how she managed an escort service, taking part in a business that exploits other women, for her own financial gain. She told stories of how she couldn’t afford to live in L.A., and had been basically run out of town by some woman whose man she was sleeping with and as a result had put Voodoo on her.
She told stories of how she wanted to date, marry and have children, but her insecurities dominated her dating life to the point that even the men she was trying to date would tell her she “needed to heal”. She never made it through more than 2 or 3 dates. She had even tried to date a police captain. Sounds like something you’d hear on the news: a woman formerly involved in the prostitution of other women later involved with someone in law enforcement. What a world we live in today, right?
She was too afraid of being seen without her wig and makeup, afraid of being seen as someone who couldn’t provide for herself properly, and afraid she wouldn’t be accepted for who she truly is. She was afraid of the truth, and the fear of rejection crippled her. Yet, rather than confront these issues she chose to take it out on others.
Sound familiar, in any way? Her name is Latoya, and her circumstances were like those of many, but the ways she faced them were purely narcissistic. Well into her forties, she never hung around women closer to her age. Perhaps they were more established by then than she. Perhaps being around younger women was a way to hold on to the youth that she was still clinging to for dear life, but had faded long ago.
Despite her age and most likely due to her lack of humility, in the time frame of over a year in which I knew her she was never able to pull her life together. Latoya seemed to know no other way to lift herself into the abundance she saw and envied others enjoying without taking advantage of someone else (working in the escort business seemed to be the only time she spoke of being financially stable or confident). How did she choose to face her truth?
There wasn’t a person Latoya could be seen with whom she hadn’t talked about like a dog behind their backs (including Veronica, described later, and her coworkers). Seeing her show up to events with people she had talked mad shit about was quite laughable really. When I would ask her why she didn’t speak to them directly, she never had a response. She could see the internal and external beauty and light in others but not herself, not without external validation. She would frown, complain and moan the majority of the time when we went out, dragging down the mood. She knows her true circumstances and seeing the life others enjoyed every day, she acted resentful that the world hadn’t given her the life she felt she deserved. Latoya is the type who can only thrive if there is no competition or real challenge.
Her resentments were expressed through constant complaining and a constant need for her emotions to be acknowledged; much like a child. She was passive aggressive out of jealousy, and sought ways to get people to make her feel admired. This could all be derived from her statements like:
“It seems only the people who sleep around can find somebody” when she whined about her frustrations and inability to find or keep a man, while others around her, including myself of course, enjoyed fun and active dating and sex lives.
“I honestly am only pursuing this degree so people will have to call me Doctor” when she was repeatedly failing online courses and I asked her why she was taking them anyway; why she wanted a doctorate degree and what she planned to do with it. She was pursuing admiration and status (as narcissist do), not a degree; surely her failures in that department were no coincidence, considering her motives.
“I am a beauty queen” she has blurted, out of context. She knows she looks and acts nothing like a beauty queen, and hides behind angled, cropped, or dated photos online. It is an example of using an old reality or accomplishment to sustain self-esteem though nothing has been done to maintain that reality in any way. Latoya would carry old pictures of herself in her wallet of the one time she won a pageant to randomly show to people, so she could be reminded of a time when she felt accepted, especially by her mother.
“If you know the enemy and know yourself,
you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.”
-Sun Tzu
As long as no one knew these things about Latoya she felt safe. The ammunition against her passive aggressive expressions of envy was behind closed doors, and she felt comfortable acting as if she was well put together when in truth she was a lonely and lacking; a broken and insecure spirit willing to capitalize on any misfortune of another if she could. (See Exhibitionists Narcissists https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/understanding-narcissism/201712/how-the-3-types-narcissists-act-first-date to understand Latoya’s narcissism).
It was obvious almost from the start of knowing her that Latoya was in no position to be of help to anyone, hardly even herself. I had never asked Latoya for anything because I was able to meet all my my own wants and needs. Even if I had been in need there were others whom I could rely on. In Latoya’s times of having no one else to even talk to, it was me who answered the phone in the middle of the night and listened to her complain about others, and her own life. In her times of having no one else to rely on, it was me who gave her aid when her getting to work depended on it. That is part of what friends are for. The one and only time I chose Latoya for a favor was when I asked to spend the night while my ex got his things out of my apartment. Latoya was a random option; my first option was a former boyfriend, and I didn’t want my family or other friends to know that my relationship had become abusive.
Had I been more open about what was going on in my relationship, I never would have even thought to ask her, which played a factor in my being more open now. In that, I learned to be more forthcoming, as not doing so caused me to choose the worst option: someone who not only takes advantage of others’ situations for her own benefit, but who will also use what she does or gives as a means of leverage.
Only a couple weeks after spending that one night at Latoya’s empty apartment, we were to meet each other at an African-American professionals conference I had invited her to, being held by my employer. We were then go to a casual social event afterwards. I had picked up another friend and gotten stuck in traffic. So, I contacted Latoya to let her know that we wouldn’t make it to the professionals event, but she could meet us at the second one.
As usual, she complained and whined about how she was feeling and how she had waited. Every time she came out I had to hear that shit. Of course, what had been going on with me that day didn’t matter her. Still stuck in traffic I told her there was nothing I could do and was heading to the second event. Had it been me I would’ve went in by myself, but Latoya is insecure, and was alone.
As soon as we hung up, she sent me a message with even more complaints. In her message she stated that she felt she had done so much for me and that I was now being inconsiderate of her feelings.
“Outrageous!” I thought.
I was fed up. I had always be the one with the smile, always supportive and able to give positive advice and affirmations. When she whipped out supremely outdated photos of herself, like she was someone’s grandmother, I smiled and nodded, as a friend. I had always given, and Latoya had done nothing but take. She never had anything positive to say, never anything positive to give. Only passive aggressive or needy comments. All she ever did was show up, talk about herself, and complain about others.
She had “done so much for me”? Had she forgotten when she couldn’t afford to fix her own car who she asked for money, and how long it took her to pay me back without my complaining? Had she forgotten who lifted her up, even through her passive aggressive comments, when she was feeling insecure about being bald, ashamed of her body, and being accepted by a man? Had she forgotten who calmed her down and gave her positive advice when she complained and talked about what “messy drunks” and “on some prostitute type stuff” her other “friends” were? Apparently she had. With narcissist, it is all about them, what they’ve done and how they feel.
So, when I responded to Latoya’s message that day, I let her know that. I let her know that I was tired of her acting like her emotions were the only thing that mattered in this world. Honestly, I put her in her place because I was not about to have her thinking that she could hang such a thing over my head. Quite frankly I was tired of not being honest with her. Oh she couldn’t handle that. Not only had I seen how she really lived and what she really looked like, but I had already peeped what her internal state was like and why long ago, and she knew it; if for no other reason than through my message. When you can expose a narc for who they really are, they want to get far away from you because you know and represent their truth, and narcs hate the truth.
As a woman, I felt we could talk it out later, and even suggested it, but I wasn’t dealing with another woman. I was dealing with a damaged and needy child in a woman’s body. Had she been a real friend, or woman for that matter, she could have talked to me like an adult as that was the only falling out we ever had, and there was nothing about it that was so extreme.
“The only enemies I have
are the people who treat me like one.”
That was it. That was all that happened. Latoya then blocked me on social media and sent me a poke. I literally laughed out loud, and continued to laugh as I sent her another message addressing her childishness. Once again, and as usual she needed to feel like she mattered. She knew how I was, and knew I wouldn’t have noticed or gave a damn about her disappearing. To this day I am glad to be free of such a fake, negative, and snake-like individual and wouldn’t have given it another thought, except Latoya chose to harbor and spread the exaggerated lie that she had “done so much for me”.
As already described, Latoya had nothing, materially or emotionally, and she knew about everything I had: a beautiful home (complete with furniture), a beautiful child, a stable career in which I didn’t have to stand on my feet all day or work long hours, good looks and personality, a fun dating life, and the ability to travel and afford a comfortable lifestyle. These were all things Latoya did not have and could not do. At all. Period. The only negative things I had in my life were my relationship with her, Veronica, and the guy Al I was dating. So, as a narcissist who needs the admiration of others to feel good about herself, her exaggeration served to make herself seem like someone in a position to be needed. People like her need to convince themselves, and others, that people like me need them to boost their self-esteem and the false image they carry.
Wait, yo…how common is it?
She wakes up and her head is pounding. Her room is dark and drab, she never opens the curtains…never lets the light in. No coincidence really. She has no idea just how much her external reality is a reflection of her internal state of being…or maybe she does. She has floated her whole life. In her youth from home to home, and in adulthood from whomever to whoever will have her. As a result of growing up completely unguided, she has acquired no useful skills, has no talents, she’s uneducated, and unmotivated to remedy any of this. Her mind is an empty space; she has nothing to think about or do with her life, and nothing to offer except being a drinking buddy or a babysitter.
She managed to have children somewhere along the way. That’s the easiest thing to do, and for many women like her, with no life skills or way to take care of themselves, having children is a great way to get someone else to take care of you. She doesn’t parent though. During the day you could find her hung-over with the curtains drawn as her youngest child pulled at her sheets, trying to get her attention. Her evenings were spent planning and preparing for a night out, instead of being a real mother. The only thing she could guarantee was that she would cook dinner before leaving.
She has no real personality of her own, so she mocks and molds herself into those she hangs around. She dresses like them, begins talking like them. She will even imitate their behaviors and opinions. Ever seen the movie Single White Female? It is a way of being accepted; to associate and imitate those whom she admires and wishes she could be like.
The only attention she is able to get on her own is negative attention. She is a self-admitted coward and waits until each evening when she can gain courage by drinking. Even then her cowardice is still present. The vodka is her liquid courage, it helps her pass the days and distracts her from feelings of worthlessness.
She told stories of feeling lost out of not having a family growing up. She told stories of being angry and bitter at the rejection and ridicule she received from her mother. She told stories of how she trapped her husband, used him, and knew she was in a loveless marriage. She took her inner turmoil out on her husband the most; she felt rejected by him. She could never speak to him without screaming, cursing, and deprecating him, usually over nothing at all. He was her punching bag, an outlet for all the hatred she felt towards others and herself. Her emotions were undeveloped and unstable; she wanted someone to care, to show that they cared in any way, even if it was in response to her ridiculous and negative behavior. She is much like a child, in so many ways. She chose to take all of this out on others.
Sound familiar, in any way? Her name was Veronica, and her circumstances were like those of many, but the ways she faced them were purely narcissistic. (See Closet & Toxic Narcissists https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/understanding-narcissism/201712/how-the-3-types-narcissists-act-first-date to understand Veronica’s narcissism). How did she choose to face her truth? Veronica always spoke poorly of her “friends” (including Latoya, described earlier) all the while still hanging out with them. She mocked how Latoya looked with all that makeup on, called her other “friends” horrible parents, commented on how bad their marriages and relationships were. When I would ask or coach her on speaking to them directly, she would only mutter about what a coward she was. On the other hand, people always whispered about her:
“How the hell is she married,” they would ask, “who the hell would want to deal with her and why?”
“Why do you hang out with her” they would ask, “She’s sloppy; you two don’t seem like the type to be friends at all.”
“I don’t know how anyone puts up with her,” they would say, “she better be grateful for the husband she has ‘cause she will never again be able to find a man.”
Little do they know just how sinister her entrapment with her husband really is. Veronica’s friends changed because she only had friends out of convenience. Veronica can’t really attract men on her own, so she uses her friends to attract guys to buy drinks or to get into a club or get a table. Ultimately, her goal is to get drunk. Her associations (friends) are her tools. Her coping mechanism for all of her issues was drinking which led to her having a substance abuse problem (she admited to this herself).
What she really needed was not friends, but a ride, someone to be there with her, help her get what she needs, and put up with her belligerence while she drank. As long as you could do these things, without reminding her of the very reality she was trying to drink into a blur, she was a “friend”. The thing is people would always get tired of her negative sloppy nonsense and she would have to again change friends or go crawling back to old ones (same as Latoya; never mind how badly they spoke of others in their absence).
When we knew each other, I would always try to get Veronica to get out and do other things besides drinking. As an active and adventurous person myself, I wanted more. First, I tried to get her to travel, but neither she nor Latoya could afford to do that. Then I tried the movies, bowling, the gym, brunches and restaurants. For Veronica, if it wasn’t free or didn’t involve liquor, it was either too far in distance, bad timing, or some other excuse. The only time I was able to get that whole crew to do anything else was when we once went ice skating, and by then I had suggested everything.
Hanging with people, Veronica in particular, who could neither afford nor had the genuine interest to do anything else with their lives got real old real fast. It was always a rush to get to open bar so she could drink as much as possible for as long as possible. As I became her only friend, she began to pressure more and more to go out. During the summer, while my daughter was out of town, it was cool, but during the school year it was too much and not even as fun or exciting. Whenever we were out all she could talk about was how either one of the bartenders or some other random woman in the club had a problem with her. Yet, if Veronica was confronted in any way she would go and hide in the bathroom or another area of the club.
“Chill out. Relax and have fun,” I would tell her, “not everyone is out to get you.”
There was even a time when I had to give Veronica a coaching session right there in the club. I’ve gotten paid $30 an hour to do that working with kids who wanted to get better, and here I was dealing with her unappreciative ass for free. During my fun time! In addition to all of this, my frustration had grown in my personal life at not being able to get away from the relationship I was in at the time.
Arguments with my ex were becoming worse as I expressed discontent, and each time I would try to leave there was a guilt trip and manipulation. Of course, none of this really mattered to Veronica. Her answer was to pick her up and go drinking; it was always about doing what was familiar to her. The last straw with Veronica came when we were out one night, same ol’ same, and my ex was going to pick us up. He and I were having trouble communicating with the noise in the club and the reception; we were both becoming frustrated and on the verge of arguing, so I told him to call when he was outside and we would come out.
Veronica took my phone while I wasn’t paying attention and drunk texted my ex calling him a “punk bitch”. The only way I found out about it was because he called me yelling and saying I was disrespectful. Of course, I had no idea what he was talking about. He then told me about the text. Veronica sat there and said nothing, though she knew what the problem was. After seeing the text, I asked Veronica if she had sent it and she said yes. Not only was he picking us up, but he was taking her home, 30 minutes away.
I had to call him back to apologize and clear up what had happened. We had argued about Veronica before. He felt I babysat her too much when we were out and lately he was becoming more upset about how I defended her as a friend when he would tell me she wasn’t shit and I should stop hanging out with her. Of course, I thought he wasn’t shit either and had been trying to stop hanging with his ass for a while. Veronica didn’t like him and he didn’t like Veronica, but ultimately what had just happened was she had opened the door for even more arguments between him and I when it was already bad enough.
This was before he became abusive, so Veronica was never there for that. She stopped being a “friend” the moment I got real with her because, remember, reality is not a narcissist’s thing. That night, as we walked out the club, I told Veronica she had no right to do what she had done.
“You may talk to your husband like that all the time, but you can’t talk to my man like that” I told her.
“I was defending you! He can’t talk to you that way,” she blurted out.
“I don’t need you to defend me! Now I’m gonna have to hear all kynna shit from him! Bottom line, you can’t talk to everyone like you do your husband” I left it at that, but wasn’t through.
While at work the next day I called Veronica. I had waited until I thought she’d be awake and sober. At first she talked as if nothing had happened, as if it was the usual me just checking on her. Her negative attitude was never my style, especially while out partying. Her inability to do anything other than open bar had become tired long ago, but as a friend I stuck around, tolerating her behavior and still maintaining a positive and supportive attitude. However, her becoming a reason for arguments in my home was making her more of a burden than a friend. I told Veronica that I wasn’t going to have her causing problems in my personal life. I told her that I wasn’t going to be just drinking and partying anymore, and if she wanted to continue to hang out she would need to clean up her act.
She became distant after that, and when I got married she disappeared completely. It was really a given that it was just another case of someone (me) having gotten tired of her ass. So, Veronica concocted a bullshit story about me having told her that I was choosing my ex over her as a way to gain pity so she could continue to be a part of social circles; instead of continuing to be know as the “sloppy drunk who can’t keep friends”. The truth is Veronica’s description is how she felt, not really what happened or was said. Her story was a complete manipulation of the truth.
Telling the truth about her drunken belligerence being the cause of yet another failed relationship of hers would only continue to expose how dysfunctional she really was. The better option for Veronica was to shift the blame onto me. She could care less about what was going on with me, and she had neither the maturity nor the courage to speak to me like an adult to talk out the issue, even though I showed her that very consideration. What mattered to her most was being able to meet her need of drinking and sleeping her days away, and not having to face the problems that her actions cause in her life or anyone else’s for that matter.
When you are too accepting and giving to others you leave yourself open to these types of people they are always looking for someone to take from, be it positive energy or otherwise. They are always looking for someone to align with who will make them look like a better person than what they truly are, just by way of association. I’ve realized that for these individuals to have anything to say about a woman like me was a way to build themselves up, for their own lives were in the mud otherwise. When you have anything positive, be it personality, success, beauty, or simply a good heart, you will attract narcissists because they have none of these things; they only pretend to. Being aware is incredibly important.
Giving is amazing, when directed towards truly positive causes. Giving too much doesn’t make you a good person; it makes you naïve and a target for narcissist, so boundaries are needed. When you don’t set and maintain boundaries, you begin to lose love and respect for yourself, because your inner self sees you giving away faster than you can replenish, and it can see when what you are giving to is not truly worthy. It is like spending currency irresponsibly; only the currency is your positive energy. (See Dandipani’s video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aTJWHh44h5w for information on energy as currency).
This is how narcissism spreads, like a metastasizing cancer. We’ve all heard someone say, “I’m done, from now on, it’s all about me.” By draining the good people they come into contact with of their positive energy, narcs can potentially turn others into narcissist as well. Learning to manage and balance your emotions is a tool narcissist do not have, and a tool that one must develop to avoid becoming like them. The phrase “no one is perfect” is a tired one, and a given. We all have challenges and issues that we choose to face or ignore. Everyone has things in their past they have chosen to accept or wish they could alter. However, the fact that “no one is perfect” is not an excuse for anyone to not put their best foot forward towards being their best self. Taking advantage of others and/or manipulating the truth are in no way involved in being one’s best self.
Wait until you hear the deets about the intimate relationship I was in with a narcissist…
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