The narcissist didn’t think you were this strong, and it’s important to let that sink in for a moment. The psychological chains were meant to be unbreakable: the trauma bond, the systematic devaluation, the relentless conditioning. It was all meticulously designed to ensure submission. The narcissist operated under a single assumption: that escape was impossible, that the mind, once manipulated, would remain ensnared indefinitely, that recognition of the toxic cycle would never come. But it did.
The narcissist never imagined you would detect the patterns, that you would decipher the gaslighting, the blame-shifting, the erosion of your sense of self. The expectation was obedience, not rebellion. The plan was to keep you emotionally imprisoned, perpetually doubting, always second-guessing. After all, the abuse was meant to be imperceptible; it was supposed to feel like love. And yet, something within you cracked open. Awareness seeped through, the carefully constructed illusion collapsed under the weight of reality.
The narcissist assumed that the role assigned to you—as a disposable source of validation, as an emotional ATM, as an object on a shelf to be picked up and put down at will—was one you would accept indefinitely. The idea that you might wake up one day and refuse to participate in the charade was unthinkable. Whether entangled through marriage, family, friendship, or professional ties, the narcissist played a long game of psychological warfare. Many had fallen before you, the tactics refined: triangulation, divide and conquer strategies, smear campaigns executed with surgical precision.
And then there was you. At first, the narcissist saw opportunity: high emotional intelligence, an empathetic nature, an absence of awareness regarding personality pathology. It was the perfect storm. The narcissist calculated that your kindness would be your downfall, that your loyalty would be the shackles keeping you bound. The assumption was simple: you would endure, you would rationalize, you would stay. But the human psyche is far more resilient than the narcissist accounted for. The very same qualities that made you a prime target—empathy, introspection, emotional depth—became the weapons of your liberation.
The love bombing, the grand illusions, the rewritten histories—all of it began to fray at the edges. The contradictions became too blatant to ignore; the excuses too flimsy to accept. The realization hit: if something seems too good to be true, it probably is. Slowly, clarity took hold. The narcissist wasn’t an enigma; they weren’t special. The misunderstood victim narrative was a fabrication, the sob stories carefully crafted to elicit sympathy, to justify inexcusable behavior. Every tale of woe, every villainization of an ex, every claim of a tragic past—it was all a script, and you saw through it.
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