7 PREPARATIONS NARCISSISTS MAKE BEFORE THEY DISCARD YOU:

 7 PREPARATIONS NARCISSISTS MAKE BEFORE THEY DISCARD YOU:

1. They emotionally detach first
They become cold, distant, and less responsive while still keeping you around for convenience.
2. They line up replacement supply
A new person (or several) is quietly groomed to step in the moment you’re removed.
3. They rewrite the story about you
They begin framing you as “difficult,” “unstable,” or “the problem” to justify what’s coming.
4. They provoke reactions on purpose
They push your buttons so they can later point to your reactions as proof you’re “crazy.”
5. They withdraw affection and support
Love, intimacy, reassurance, and consistency are slowly removed to weaken you emotionally.
6. They collect leverage
Your vulnerabilities, mistakes, or private confessions are mentally stored to use against you.
7. They prepare to disappear without accountability
Plans are made so they can exit suddenly, deny responsibility, and act like you never mattered.

Healing doesn’t come from understanding them — it comes from forgiving yourself for not seeing it sooner.

 Ending a relationship with a narcissist isn’t just a breakup — it’s a psychological war you didn’t know you were fighting until it was over. People who haven’t lived it often ask, “Why can’t you just move on?” as if it’s that simple. They don’t understand that you’re not only grieving a person — you’re grieving an illusion. You fell in love with a version of someone that never truly existed, yet your body and mind still remember the love-bombing, the warmth, the moments that felt real. You’re left trying to mourn a fantasy while also piecing together the truth that every “I love you” came with hidden motives.

The hardest part isn’t just losing them — it’s losing yourself. Somewhere along the way, they trained you to prioritize their emotions over yours, to silence your needs, to question your sanity. You became who they wanted you to be — agreeable, apologetic, small. Then they discarded you like you never mattered. You stand in front of the mirror now, searching for the person you used to be before their manipulation rewired your entire nervous system. How do you explain that? How do you put into words the heartbreak of realizing that the very person who broke you also taught you to depend on them for comfort?

And even after everything — the lies, the gaslighting, the emotional chaos — part of you still waits for the version of them that once made you feel seen. That’s the cruel irony of narcissistic abuse. You crave closure from someone who built their power on your confusion. You want peace, but they only know control. The healing, therefore, doesn’t come from understanding them — it comes from forgiving yourself for not seeing it sooner. Because breaking free from a narcissist isn’t about letting go of a lover; it’s about reclaiming your mind, your peace, and the version of you that believed love wasn’t supposed to hurt like this.

Good women don’t have bad taste in men ...

 Good women don’t have bad taste in men — it’s narcissistic men that have good taste in good women, because they know exactly who to target. They don’t chase chaos; they chase kindness. They seek out women with empathy, loyalty, and strength — the ones who forgive easily, love deeply, and see potential in people even when it’s buried under red flags. To a narcissist, a good woman isn’t just a partner; she’s an endless source of supply — admiration, emotional labor, and validation they could never give themselves.

At first, he studies her like a project. He mirrors her values, reflects her dreams, and pretends to be everything she’s ever prayed for. He listens, compliments, and pays attention to every detail. It’s not love — it’s data collection. He’s learning her triggers, her weaknesses, and what makes her light up so he can later control that light. To her, it feels like fate. To him, it’s strategy. Narcissists are rarely attracted to women who are weak; they want women strong enough to carry the relationship alone when things start to fall apart.

Soon, the mask starts to slip. The same man who once adored her now criticizes her. The compliments turn into comparisons, the listening turns into silent treatments, and the charm transforms into control. He begins to drain her confidence while convincing her that she’s the problem. And because she’s a good woman, she tries harder. She gives more, forgives more, and prays more — hoping that the man she met in the beginning is still somewhere inside. But the truth is, he never existed. He was only a reflection of who she is.

By the time she realizes what’s happening, she’s emotionally exhausted and mentally confused. She questions her worth, doubts her instincts, and starts to believe that maybe she really does have “bad taste in men.” But the reality is, she didn’t fall for a man — she fell for a performance. The narcissist wore her love like a costume, and when she finally saw behind the mask, she wasn’t looking at a lover, but an actor who thrived on her light.

So no, good women don’t have bad taste in men. Narcissistic men just have excellent taste in good women. They know the kind of heart that will keep loving even when it hurts. But here’s the power twist — once a good woman learns to love herself the way she used to love him, she becomes the one thing a narcissist can’t control or destroy. Her empathy turns into wisdom, her pain turns into strength, and her heart becomes her shield.

Real Healing Doesn’t Come from Pretending Nothing Happened

 

NARCISSISTS expect everything to go back to normal, as if their actions left no scars.
They act confused by your distance, offended by your boundaries, and impatient with your healing — as though the harm they caused should simply disappear with time.

They invalidate your pain, minimize your experience, and reframe the damage as a “misunderstanding” or an overreaction. They rush the timeline, pressure you to move on, and shame you for remembering what hurt you in the first place.

They want peace without accountability.
Forgiveness without change.
Access without growth.

What they call “moving forward” is really just returning to a version of the relationship where they never have to face themselves. But real healing doesn’t come from pretending nothing happened — it comes from truth, responsibility, and consistent change.

And when those things are missing, your refusal to go back to “normal” isn’t bitterness.
It’s self-respect.

 Narcissists are spiritually empty, so they attach to people filled with love, empathy, and light.

Because they don't have those things themselves. They can't generate love—they can only consume it. They can't feel empathy—they can only mimic it.

They can't create light—they can only drain it from others. So they seek out people who have what they lack, not to learn from them, but to feed off them.

That's why narcissists don't target weak people. They target strong people. Kind people. Loving people. People with big hearts and deep empathy. People who see the good in others.

People who believe in second chances. People who give generously. People who love unconditionally.

Because those people are full. And narcissists are empty. And the empty always seek the full—not to become full themselves, but to drain what's there.

You weren't chosen because you were broken. You were chosen because you were whole. Because you had something they wanted. Light they could dim. Love they could take. Energy they could drain. Empathy they could exploit. Goodness they could corrupt.

They saw your capacity to love and knew they could use it. They saw your empathy and knew they could manipulate it. They saw your light and knew they could extinguish it.

They saw your strength and knew if they could break you, they'd have unlimited supply.

Because narcissists are spiritually bankrupt. There's nothing at their core. No genuine love. No real connection. No authentic emotion. Just an endless void that demands constant feeding.

And people like you—people filled with love, empathy, and light—you're the perfect supply.

You give freely. You love deeply. You see potential in people. You believe in growth. You extend grace. You offer second chances. You fill spaces with warmth. You bring light into darkness.

And narcissists? They consume all of that without ever reciprocating. Without ever filling their own void. Because their void can't be filled—it can only consume.

That's why the relationship felt so one-sided. You were giving and giving and giving, trying to fill them up, trying to help them heal, trying to love them into wholeness.

But you can't fill a bottomless pit. You can't heal someone who doesn't believe they're broken. You can't love someone into having a soul.

They attached to you because you're everything they're not. Genuine. Empathetic. Loving. Whole. And instead of being inspired by that, instead of wanting to become that, they wanted to possess it. Control it. Drain it. Destroy it.

Because seeing your light reminds them of their darkness. And rather than do the work to find their own light, it's easier to extinguish yours.

Rather than develop their own empathy, it's easier to exploit yours. Rather than cultivate their own love, it's easier to take yours.
So they attached.

They mirrored your energy to make you think you'd found your match. They love-bombed you to secure your attachment. They made you feel seen, understood, special—because they studied you. They learned what you needed to hear, what you wanted to feel, what would make you bond to them.

And once you were attached, once they had access to your love, your empathy, your light—they started draining it. Slowly at first. Then faster. Until you were running on empty while they were still demanding more.

But here's what you need to understand: You weren't drained because you were weak. You were drained because you were full. And they were empty. And the empty will always try to drain the full if the full allows it.

Your love wasn't the problem. Your empathy wasn't the problem. Your light wasn't the problem. The problem was giving those things to someone who was fundamentally incapable of reciprocating them. Someone who saw your wholeness as something to consume, not something to honor.

Narcissists are spiritually empty. And no amount of your love, your empathy, your light will ever fill them. Because they're not looking to be filled—they're looking to fill the void temporarily by draining others. And the moment you're depleted, they'll move on to the next full person.

But you? You can refill. You can heal. You can rebuild your light. Because you have a source—a genuine spirit, a real capacity for love, authentic empathy. You generate light from within.

You don't need to take it from others because it's already inside you.

They can't do that. They can only take. Only consume. Only attach to others and drain until there's nothing left, then move on and repeat the cycle.

So if a narcissist attached to you, if they targeted you, if they consumed your energy—don't see it as a flaw in you. See it for what it is: proof that you had something real. Something valuable. Something they could never create themselves.

You weren't their victim because you were weak. You were their target because you were full. And they were empty. And the empty will always seek the full.

But now you know. Now you can protect your energy. Now you can choose who gets access to your love, your empathy, your light. Now you can save those precious things for people who reciprocate them, not people who just consume them.

Because you deserve to give your light to people who generate their own. To share love with people who give it back. To extend empathy to people who appreciate it, not exploit it.

Narcissists are spiritually empty. And that's their problem, not yours.

Your job isn't to fill their void. Your job is to protect your light. And give it only to people who add to it, not drain it.

You're not a battery for broken people to recharge from. You're a whole person who deserves whole people in return.
Remember that. Protect that. Honor that.

Your light is precious. Don't give it to people living in darkness by choice.

Are You the Narcissist?

 Are You the Narcissist?

That question doesn’t usually come from someone who is abusing others. It comes from someone who has been blamed, shamed, and psychologically twisted for so long that they no longer trust their own intentions. It comes from someone who has spent countless nights replaying conversations, wondering if they were too much, too emotional, too sensitive, or too demanding. It comes from someone who learned to look inward every time harm happened, because that was safer than pointing outward.

People with narcissistic traits do not sit quietly asking themselves if they are the problem. They do not lose sleep over whether they hurt someone. They do not reflect on their patterns with genuine curiosity or remorse. They protect their self image at all costs. Accountability feels like a threat, not an opportunity for growth.

If you are asking this question, chances are you were conditioned to carry responsibility that was never yours. You were taught that someone else’s anger was your fault. That their coldness was something you caused. That their cruelty was a reaction to your behavior, not a choice they made. Over time, this conditioning trains you to self interrogate constantly. You become hyper aware of your tone, your words, your needs. You apologize even when you are the one bleeding.

Narcissistic behavior is rooted in entitlement, not self doubt. It is driven by control, not curiosity. A narcissist does not worry about being fair. They worry about being dominant, admired, or unchallenged. They rewrite events to stay comfortable. They externalize blame to avoid shame. They rarely ask, “How did I affect you?” unless it benefits them.

Self reflection is not narcissism. Empathy is not narcissism. Wanting to communicate, repair, and understand is not narcissism. Feeling guilt when you hurt someone and wanting to change is not narcissism. Those demonstrate emotional maturity.

This question often appears during healing. It shows up when the fog starts lifting and you are sorting through what was real and what was manipulation. It is part of reclaiming your sense of self. You are learning to separate responsibility from blame, accountability from self punishment.

So if you are asking, “Am I the narcissist?” pause and look at the pattern. Do you listen when confronted? Do you feel remorse without being forced? Do you try to grow even when it is uncomfortable? Do you care about the impact of your actions, not just how you look?

If the answer is yes, that question is not an accusation. It is proof of awareness. And awareness is the opposite of narcissism.

Where Freedom Begins

 The narcissist’s silent treatment is designed to punish, control, and destabilize you. It’s not about needing space or cooling off — it’s about making you feel anxious, confused, and desperate for their attention. They know silence hurts more than words, because silence forces you to sit alone with all the questions they want you to ask yourself: “What did I do wrong? Why are they ignoring me? How can I fix this?” That panic is their goal.

When a narcissist goes silent, they’re trying to regain power. Maybe you set a boundary, maybe you called out their behavior, maybe you didn’t give them the reaction they expected. Instead of communicating, they withdraw affection, communication, and presence to make you chase them. In their mind, whoever cares less wins — so they weaponize silence to make themselves appear superior and emotionally unaffected.

The silent treatment also gives them time to rewrite the story in their favor. By the time they speak again, they’ve convinced themselves (and possibly others) that you were the problem. They return acting cold, distant, or overly calm — while you’ve been emotionally spiraling — creating the illusion that your pain is “proof” that you’re unstable or overreacting. It’s emotional manipulation at its finest.

What makes the silent treatment so damaging is that it activates your nervous system’s fear response. Humans are wired for connection, so being ignored by someone you love feels like abandonment. Over time, this cycle trains you to keep quiet, avoid conflict, and sacrifice your needs to prevent the silence from being used against you. You begin to walk on eggshells, shrinking yourself just to maintain peace that never truly existed.

The most powerful step you can take is realizing that their silence says nothing about your worth — and everything about their emotional immaturity. Healthy people communicate; narcissists punish. Once you stop chasing them, the silent treatment loses its power. Instead of asking, “Why are they doing this to me?” you begin to ask, “Why am I accepting this at all?” And that shift… that’s where your freedom begins.

 You still care because you didn’t stop loving them — you stopped being met. Your heart didn’t shut off just because theirs did. You stayed emotionally invested longer because you believed connection was something you work through, not walk away from the moment it gets uncomfortable. Caring wasn’t weakness — it was consistency.

And now it hurts because your care didn’t disappear when they withdrew. It stayed looking for safety, closure, and meaning. You’re not struggling because you cared too much — you’re struggling because you cared alone. Healing begins when you stop asking why you still feel, and start honoring the fact that your ability to love deeply was never the problem.

Grief is not Weakness

 You miss them because your heart got attached to who they were in between the hurt — the version that showed up just enough to keep hope alive. The pain didn’t erase the connection; it confused it. Your mind remembers the damage, but your body remembers the moments you felt chosen.

Missing someone who hurt you doesn’t mean you want the relationship back. It means you’re grieving the illusion, the potential, and the parts of yourself that kept believing it would get better. That grief is not weakness — it’s part of letting go for good.

 One of the most disorienting experiences in narcissistic abuse is realizing you've spent hours, days or even years defending your response to harm whilst the person who actually caused the harm never faced a single question about their behavior. You raised

your voice after being belittled for the hundredth time and suddenly the entire conversation becomes about your "anger issues." You cried after being dismissed and now you're "too sensitive" or "emotionally unstable." You set a boundary after repeated violations and you're "cold," "unforgiving," or "holding grudges." Somehow, the narrative always shifts from what they did to how you reacted and you end up in the defendant's chair, scrambling to justify a response that was completely proportional to the harm you experienced.

This tactic is not accidental; it's strategic. Narcissistic individuals are acutely aware that if the focus stays on their behavior; the gaslighting, the manipulation, the cruelty, they lose control of the narrative. So they redirect. They make your reaction the problem, not the thing that provoked it. It's a masterclass in deflection, instead of apologizing for what they said or did, they attack the way you responded to it. Instead of taking accountability, they position themselves as the victim of your "overreaction." And because you were raised to question yourself, to minimize your pain, to prioritize keeping the peace, you fall into the trap. You start explaining, justifying, softening your truth, apologizing for being hurt in the first place.

What makes this so damaging is that it trains you to focus on managing your reactions instead of addressing the root cause. You start monitoring your tone, your volume, your facial expressions, terrified that if you show any emotion; anger, sadness, frustration, it will be used against you. You learn to stay calm whilst being torn apart, to respond "rationally" to irrational treatment, to absorb harm without flinching because any visible response will be weaponized. Over time, you lose touch with your own instincts.

You stop trusting that your feelings are valid indicators of mistreatment. You start believing that maybe you are the problem, that your reactions are disproportionate, that you need to work on yourself whilst the person actively harming you skates by without consequence.

The wildest part is how effective this is at keeping you stuck. As long as you're defending your reaction, you're not holding them accountable for their action. As long as the conversation is about whether you're "too much," it's never about whether they were out of line. You exhaust yourself trying to prove you had a right to be upset, whilst they sit back, unbothered, having successfully avoided any real examination of their behavior. It's a loop designed to protect the abuser and gaslight the survivor into believing they're the volatile one. Meanwhile, the actual harm; the insult, the dismissal, the violation, the cruelty, gets buried under layers of deflection and is never, ever addressed.

Healing means breaking that loop. It means recognizing that you do not need to justify your emotional response to being hurt. If someone's behavior provokes anger, tears or distance in you, that is information, not evidence of a character flaw. You are allowed to react to harm. You are allowed to be angry, to cry, to withdraw, to say "that's not acceptable." The right response is not to defend your reaction; it's to name the behavior that caused it and refuse to be drawn into a debate about whether your pain was "reasonable." The people who genuinely care about you will hear "that hurt me" and respond with care, not accusations. The ones who make you defend your reaction instead of addressing their behavior are showing you exactly who they are. Believe them.

WHY EMPATHS ATTRACT NARCISSISTS

 WHY EMPATHS ATTRACT NARCISSISTS

Empaths don’t attract narcissists because they’re weak.
They attract narcissists because they carry a rare combination of emotional depth, intuition, and compassion that narcissists crave — but can never create within themselves. Empaths are everything a narcissist is not, and that contrast becomes a magnet.

1. Empaths see the wounded child inside the narcissist.

An empath can sense pain even when it’s hidden under arrogance. They see the brokenness behind the anger, the insecurity behind the ego, the abandonment behind the manipulation.
While everyone else sees the mask, the empath sees the wound — and tries to heal it.

This makes them vulnerable to someone who never intended to heal in the first place

2. Empaths give love without keeping score — narcissists take without limits.

An empath loves deeply, generously, and wholeheartedly.
A narcissist absorbs love like a bottomless pit.
The more the empath gives, the more the narcissist wants — and the more the empath feels responsible for “fixing” the relationship.

A narcissist sees this not as love…
but as opportunity.

3. Empaths mistake intensity for connection.

Narcissists love-bomb with passion and intensity.
To an empath, it feels like emotional alignment.
They believe they’ve found someone who “feels” as deeply as they do — until that intensity turns into anger, withdrawal, jealousy, or manipulation.

The truth?
It was never depth.
It was control wearing the costume of love.

4. Empaths are nurturers — narcissists need constant emotional feeding.

Empaths soothe.
Narcissists drain.
Empaths listen.
Narcissists monologue.
Empaths validate.
Narcissists demand.

This dynamic creates a dangerous cycle:
the empath becomes the healer…
while the narcissist becomes the taker.

5. Empaths want peace — narcissists thrive in chaos.

Empaths try to fix arguments, soften tone, calm energy, apologize first.
Narcissists use conflict to regain control.
The empath thinks harmony is the goal.
The narcissist thinks dominance is the goal.

You cannot “love” someone into emotional maturity.

6. Empaths believe in people’s potential — narcissists weaponize that hope.

Empaths fall in love with:
• who the narcissist could be
• who they were during the love-bombing
• who they desperately wish the narcissist would become

Narcissists use this hope to keep the empath stuck.
“You saw the good in me once… try harder. Love me more.”

It’s manipulation disguised as possibility.

7. Narcissists choose empaths because they are the easiest to break… and the hardest to replace.

A narcissist knows an empath will:
• forgive
• understand
• over-explain
• excuse
• stay longer than they should

But once an empath wakes up…
they become the one person the narcissist can never control again.

 

Real Forgiveness is not Forced

 When forgiveness is forced before the wound is even acknowledged, what’s really being asked is silence, not healing. It tells the wounded person that peace matters more than truth, and comfort matters more than accountability. Instead of being allowed to say “this hurt me,” they’re pushed to say “it’s fine,” even when it clearly isn’t. That kind of pressure doesn’t heal wounds—it buries them alive.

Forced forgiveness often shows up dressed as righteousness. Scriptures are quoted, tone is spiritual, intentions are framed as godly—but the outcome is the same: the injured person is rushed past their pain so others don’t have to sit with discomfort. There’s no space to grieve, no room to process, no permission to be angry or confused. Just an expectation to move on, smile, and call it faith.

What gets ignored is this: acknowledgment is the foundation of healing. You cannot forgive what hasn’t been named. You cannot release what hasn’t been validated. When someone skips the step of recognition—of listening, believing, and taking responsibility—they turn forgiveness into a tool of control rather than an act of freedom.

This is especially damaging in religious spaces, where people are taught that questioning harm equals bitterness, and expressing pain equals lack of faith. Survivors learn to doubt themselves. They begin to wonder if they’re the problem for still hurting. But pain that’s ignored doesn’t disappear—it shows up later as anxiety, numbness, exhaustion, or loss of trust in both people and God.

Real forgiveness, if it ever comes, is not forced—it’s chosen. It grows in environments where truth is honored, wounds are acknowledged, and accountability is real. And even then, forgiveness is not a requirement for healing. You are allowed to tend to your wound first. God is not offended by your honesty—and your pain does not disqualify you from grace.

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Believe the Pattern ...

 

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Things I Wish Someone Taught Us About Relationships in School

 

Hoovering

 Hoovering is a manipulative tactic, named after the Hoover vacuum, where a person (often with narcissistic traits) tries to "suck" a former partner or friend back into a relationship using charm, guilt, or false promises of change, often right when the victim starts healing, to regain control and fulfill their need for attention. It can manifest as seemingly innocent texts, grand gestures, or emotional pleas (like faking illness) to draw the person back into the toxic dynamic. 

What it looks like: 

• Sudden contact: Unexpected texts, calls, emails, or social media messages.
• Appeals to emotion: Expressing deep regret, love, or claiming personal crises (e.g., suicidal thoughts, illness).
• Promises: Vowing to change, promising therapy, or making grand romantic gestures.
• Appearing benign: Starting with simple "hey" messages or birthday wishes before escalating. 

Why it's done: 

• Control: To maintain power and influence over the other person.
• Narcissistic Supply: To fill their "bottomless pit" of need for attention and validation.
• When they need you: Often happens when they feel a void or when you've successfully created distance. 

How to respond: 

• Recognize the pattern: Understand it's a tactic, not genuine change.
• Don't engage: Resist responding, as any attention fuels the behavior.
• Stay firm: Do not fall for the emotional manipulation. 

Lord Silence the "What Ifs" ...

 Sometimes the loudest battles aren’t around us — they’re inside us

The quiet “what ifs” that show up when the world slows down.

The questions we replay.

The moments we second-guess.

The paths we imagine might have been different.

There are days when your heart feels tired not from doing too much,

but from thinking too much.

From carrying worries you never asked for.

From holding fears that don’t always have answers.

And in those moments, silence isn’t emptiness — it’s mercy.

It’s a pause.

A breath.

A gentle reminder that not every thought deserves your attention.

You don’t need to solve everything tonight.

You don’t need to understand the whole story right now.

Some things are meant to rest, not be figured out

Let the water be still.

Let the questions soften.

Let the weight ease, even if only a little.

Faith doesn’t mean you never worry.

It means you choose, again and again, to release what you can’t control.

To trust that what’s meant for you won’t be lost in silence.

To believe that peace can exist even when answers don’t.

So if your mind is noisy today, that’s okay.

If your heart feels heavy, that’s okay.

Sit with it.

Breathe through it.

You don’t have to fight every thought to move forward.

Some days, the bravest prayer isn’t asking for more —

it’s asking for quiet

Quiet in your mind.

Quiet in your spirit.

Quiet enough to remember that you are held, guided, and never alone.

May the “what ifs” fade.

May peace find you gently.

And may grace meet you right where you are.