Number six occurs when they are silently rejected—no drama, just distance. This one made him visibly angry. “She did not yell. She didn’t even block me. She just stopped replying, stopped caring, as if I never existed.” He hated that rejection more than any loud breakup because drama keeps the narcissist emotionally fed. If you’re crying, screaming, or begging, they’re still the center of your world. But silence—which I say is your superpower in this context—is exile. When someone leaves the narcissist without explaining, blaming, or defending, it doesn’t give them anything to work with—no fight to fuel, no narrative to spin. And the worst part? It makes them question why. That question never ends, as it makes them feel like a failure and reveals that they were not powerful enough to elicit a response from you.
Trigger 7: Distrustful Pets
Number seven, and the last one, occurs when pets do not trust them. This was a revelation for me. He talked about a cat that refused to come near him—always hiding, always watching from a distance, never letting him touch her at all. “It pissed me off,” he said. “I feed her; I tried to be nice, but she just knows.” That is when I realized that narcissists fear being sensed. Animals, like children, bypass the mask of pretense. They do not respond to words or fake energy; they respond to truth. If the truth is chaotic, cold, or threatening, they run away.
Being rejected by an animal feels cosmic, divine, and unfiltered. It’s not a matter of opinion; it is instinctual. And to a narcissist, that is terrifying because it confirms something they have spent their whole lives trying to deny: Maybe I really am dangerous to others, even when I am smiling. I recently created a small reel on this idea: Narcissists are not typically cat people; they are often hated by cats. Now, this may not be universally true—there are narcissists out there who are adored by their cats—however, many cats can see through the narcissist’s rottenness. They can sense it, feel it, sniff it out, and then maintain their distance.
The prime example for me is my own father, who was hated by all animals because he was terrifying to be around. He was psychopathic; he was malignant. He couldn’t put on a mask. Even when he attempted to, my cat would run away at just the sight of him because she sensed there was no human agency inside—only a monster.
Sharing is caring!
Leave a Comment