If you are a survivor of narcissistic abuse, you will have likely chosen a long, voluntary period of physical solitude. Of trusting no one. Of at most, engaging in superficial connections, online flirtations you can end with the push of a button. But one day, it will come—you can count it—the longing to love and be loved again. Of being with a real, live human being, of feeling their warmth, their touch, their skin against yours. Of being held, kissed. Loved. Of kissing them back, holding them against your chest, your heart beating in time with theirs.
At times your longing will be overwhelming. It is human nature after all. We are not solitary creatures. We are social animals, as the multiple lockdowns and enforced restrictions of the COVID pandemic has tragically proven. Being alone for any length of time is unbearable for most. A handful will not mind it so much. But even the toughest will need to connect with another person at some point. We all need to experience love and connection eventually. No one is exempt. And when that need comes, it blindsides you.
It becomes all you see. Couples holding hands, young and old. Your friends suddenly finding love and flourishing. Your neighbours inviting you to their wedding. Films and shows, books and articles featuring love will pop up on your feed as if your online tech can hear your thoughts (or at least your conversations).
But for you . . . No one. You wonder if this is going to be it for you. No one to lay down beside ever again. Just you on your own for the rest of your life surrounded by a growing collection of cats.
Encouraged by friends, at last you give in and post a dating profile online only to learn the horror stories are in fact, true. It's a cesspool of married men looking to cheat, players who want to play, boys young enough to be your son looking for a sugar mommy, and all out perverts who write disgusting things they want to do to you that makes your flesh crawl. You retreat. The longing persists. Well, you reason, it's just a biological imperative. It will pass. These things often do. You feed yourself the usual platitudes as you prepare your morning tea: If I am meant to meet someone, I will. It will just happen.
Then, as you pour the milk you recall how you met your narcissist. That 'just happened'.
Hm.
For those of us recovering from the trauma of a narcissistic relationship we need to be extremely careful when it comes time to seek love again. Although, take heart, there are things you can do to prepare yourself, a checklist of sorts.
First, if you have not yet begun to fully trust yourself, your senses, and especially your instincts, ask yourself if you are truly ready to judge the potential of a future partner with a clear heart and mind. If you are not, get your trust in yourself right. This part is critical. You will need it for what comes next. Go back to the previous chapter and practice the strategies in there until you feel your trust in yourself strengthen. Until then, you are at risk of re-traumatising yourself. Please don't. You have come too far to lose everything now. In Part IV, there are more strategies to help you gain trust and strength in yourself. They are there to help you, to arm you and protect you against those who seek to destroy you.
It turns out narcissists leave a mark on their targets, which is a beacon to other narcissists. It says: 'This one is food.' Long after they are gone you will become aware of this phenomenon when other narcissists enter your life and circle you—hyenas scavenging for the scraps left from the alpha's feeding.
Of course, while you are still healing, it won't be the overt ones like your ex who come for you. Those will pass you over for other more bountiful, untouched supplies. But the others, the 'weaker' narcissists, oh, they will come in droves. These insidious so-called 'covert' narcissists possess enormous amounts of charisma, and can weave charming tales of woe, injustice, and suffering, sometimes with self-deprecating humour that totally blinds you to what they are. You begin to build a perverse bond with them. After all, you are wounded too. You have a lot in common. It feels familiar. You could fight to get better together. You like this idea. Nurture it. One point for them.
Except . . . it's only you who wants to get better. They don't.
As you embed your time into them, you become caught in their complex web of problems, and are told how nothing gets better no matter what they try (and they make a great deal of noise about the trying part).
If you are unfortunate enough to have an expert covert coming for you, they will almost always have mysterious health issues no doctor can diagnose or cure, health issues they can talk about ad nauseam, and will use to excuse themselves from commitments at the last minute. And you can say nothing, of course, because if you do, you are an insensitive asshole. They are smart, these coverts. Like hyenas. Crafty. Yet despite all their manipulative skills, strangely these poor souls just can't get a break. Sigh.
They love it when you listen to them and offer helpful advice (which they will ignore as they continue to carry on doing the exact thing that got them in their mess in the first place). They especially like it if you make a big deal of their endless problems, and become outraged and offended at injustices done to them. There will always be some low-key drama going on in their life they will want to burden you with, and will need support to get through (though there will always be an excuse why they couldn't).
To make sure you don't run screaming for the hills, they will make sure to make you feel like you are helping them, making such a difference—how special you are. But no matter how much they convince you of this lie, do not be deceived. You are not making a difference, you are being used for the attention you are giving them on the one-way street that is their existence, and to vindicate their twisted, entitled narrative of specialness and exemption from responsibility (including giving an actual damn about you).
Over time, these subtler, less obvious narcissists are just as eroding and wearing as overt narcissists. Because they are difficult to pin down, you are again riddled with doubt. Are they using you? Are they really that helpless or just taking advantage? Do they have health issues or is it all an act? Are you being horrible for questioning their narrative? More circles. More wasted time. More lost energy. Another point for them.
These are the ones who are going to come for you in the wake of your narcissist's departure. Prepare yourself. Arm yourself with this knowledge so you can skip this part and see what they are right away. If you get hit within a week with the 1-2-3 of charm, charisma, and crap backstory, run. Hit delete. Block them. Whatever it takes. Cut them off. They will move on faster than you think. As soon as they know you won't play they will already be contacting the other irons they have warming in the fire. Save your heart for someone worth your time and energy.
So, who are the right people?
The ones who take it slow. The ones who want to get to know you in a paced and non-invasive way, starting things out as friends, nice and casual. They don't go straight for the pain and sorrow of your past by rummaging around in your closets trying to pull out the dirtiest laundry and wanting to go into every sordid detail. They want to talk about neutral things, test the waters, see if there are similar values and interests, if it's worth it to keep going.
They don't bring up their ex, past relationships or anything like that in the early days, or if they do, it will be just to say the facts. They tell the basics, and move on. They don't want to dwell on it, because it's in the past where it belongs. They will have been single for a while and not fresh out of something, or even worse, still living with their ex but 'broken up'.
Perhaps they have dated others since their last serious relationship. What matters is they are happy in their own company and in their own life and are not on the rebound. They are not looking for someone to rescue them (or re-home them). They are not someone who is looking to be with you for selfish reasons, because they are lonely, or just want a guaranteed lay. They are looking to meet a person they can share good times and weather the bad times. Equals.
And most importantly, whenever you have contact with them you will not be plagued by doubts afterwards. You won't be raking over everything they have said until you sicken yourself because it isn't aligned with what they said the last time you spoke. Narratives won't shift. They are constant. Stable. Sane.
There won't be any blame, or accusations of injury you have caused you don't agree with (or remember). You won't hear yourself apologising for things you didn't do just to keep the peace. Your instincts won't be firing in all directions warning you there is something dishonest about them, something you can't put your finger on, or just a general sense of wrongness about them that leaves you in a constant state of unease.
No. You will sleep well at night. No more tossing and turning. No more churning thoughts. When they talk to you, it's easy, uncomplicated, drama-free, and makes you feel better after, gives you energy instead of depleting it. That's what you want the next time around. That's the goal. Don't stop until you get it. You are worth it.
Go slow. Be patient. Be wary. Trust your instincts. Love will come. And this time around it won't be a lie because you will know the difference between what is love . . . and what is a lie.