Falling Out of Love With a Narcissist

How to let go of the fantasy image of a dream that never was

Before any of you start to worry or think that I’ve lost my mind, let me clarify:

I’m not ‘actually’ in love with my abusive ex.

Not anymore, and I haven’t been for many years.

Hordes of wild horses couldn’t drag me back, and no prize or promise would tempt me in the slightest. Pinky-swear!

I’m not in love with the person he is; the one that he revealed to me in the time leading up to and after our separation—which I then realized was the person he’d been the whole time.

Except I failed to see it.

Or rather, I didn’t want to see, so I closed my eyes, clenched my teeth, and powered ahead like the unwavering force I always believed myself to be.

The problem with anything unyielding is that once they inevitably hit a wall, they shatter. Irreparably.

With that crumbled my perception of reality—of him and of myself—along with all of my hopes, dreams, and plans for the future.

More than a rug swept from under my feet; there went the gilded construction I’d crafted since college to prove to be not a castle, but a pie in the sky.

But…

There’s always a but. And this one pains me to admit, even to myself:

I’m still infatuated with ‘the idea of him’.

Persisting is the imprint of a dream, one that was vast and therefore casts a great shadow. I can’t seem to escape it, because as with all of our shadows it appears to be stitched to the heel.

I see that I cling to this idea; a splendid plan I crafted through the honeymoon phase, blinded by the irresistible allure of the narcissist. I built him up, placed him on a pedestal, and kept him there for a decade.

It’s embarrassingly cheesy, I’ll admit, but there’s a reason why I kept cry-singing the piano version of Wrecking Ball after the breakup as no other song I’ve come across so clearly illustrates what it’s like to fall for a narcissist:

“I put you high up in the sky and now, you’re not coming down. It slowly turned, you let me burn, and now, we’re ashes on the ground…”.

In the same song, Cyrus sings “all you ever did was wreck me” and nevertheless, “I will always want you”.

That’s some paradox if you ask me.

A Psych Central article on Narcissistic Abuse Syndrome talks about how, equally paradoxically, in these relationships, the codependent remains similarly hooked on enabling the narcissist: “She’s lost in fairy tale illusions that make her refuse to let go of the belief that, somehow and someday, her love and sacrifice will turn a stone-cold abuser into a prince that sees and cares about her feelings.”

Even as we make our ways out of these relationships and go through significant healing, the fairytale illusions are the last to go.

Add that on top of the fact that in this toxic dynamic, you’ve been doubting your abilities to make decisions, while disconnecting from your own wants and needs in favor of theirs for so long.

Reconnecting and learning to trust your own decision-making abilities take a lot of work.

A complex trauma survivor, you’re also likely to struggle from PTSD, which can wreak havoc in ways ranging from anxiety, chronic pain, and muscle aches, to dissociation, detachment, depression, rage, and the list goes on…

As a result, not only could your sense of self be awry but, due to the strong trauma bond you forged, your perception of the perpetrator is often distorted too. This negates all reason beyond your own ability to rationally identify your perception as false.

When it comes to the prospect of meeting a new potential partner (or partners), they might be doomed before even given a fair chance. They’re, in fact, (unjustly) measured next to an imaginary character in a dream that never was, and never will be. That’s not an easy one to defeat.

Ask any child (and perhaps anyone), to choose between an image of a magical unicorn and a humdrum horse. Even when knowing that the mythical horned creature is exactly that; a myth, they’ll reach for it nonetheless.

People tell me that they see me as a confident woman who knows what she wants. And I am, to a large extent, that.

I know how I want to be treated; what I can accept and what I can’t, and I’m not afraid to vocalize it.

But, if you ask me about a five-year-plan, or a five-month-plan even, I draw a blank.

My rest-of-my-life-plans are still buried under the construction that crumbled when I left my ex. Since that, I’ve been trying to rebuild without clearing the site and drafting up proper blueprints.

Instead, I’ve invited ‘co-creators’ to help me build, only to find out months down the line that this isn’t quite the house I want to live in. It’s always missing something; lacking space for a part of me that is essential for me to thrive.

That’s when I pull out the picture of the unicorn, hop in my demolition truck and flatten the whole shebang to the ground. Then, jumping ahead, I’ll start over again, building atop of rubble—again without a plan.

—Where art thou my fair centaur? Or was it a satyr?

We’re dealing with a bilateral issue: The narcissist survivor is refusing to let the fantasy image go and at the same time, struggling to come up with a new picture to replace the fable.

Past partners have queried as I get in my bulldozer, “am I really no better than the man who abused you for so long?”

Well, clearly! It’s not even a competition. Still, something is missing, I think it’s called an alicorn, or is it a pair of wings perhaps?

I’ve turned down many an opportunity in the search for it, and very recently the kindest, most empathetic, generous, and emotionally mature man I’ve met.

I won’t say, “it’s not them it’s me”. There’s always a plethora of things at play, and in the end I don’t have regrets. Everyone I’ve learned to know has taught me wonderful things that have broadened my perspectives and brought me closer to understanding what matters to me. But a huge reason comes down to the set of issues mentioned above.

In the wake of recent experiences, I see the solution to this two-fold matter more clearly than before:

In order to welcome healthy relationships into our lives, we must first have a clear sense of self; we must find home within ourselves and fully inhabit that. We must define for ourselves how we want to live our lives, now and down the line, regardless of whether there’s an-other there to share it with.

We must first find wholeness within.

This is still a work in progress and there’s no clear recipe, but I do know that it requires copious amounts of alone time in order to turn off the noise and turn your attention inward. The method, whether it’s meditation, walks in nature, or something else matters less.

Further, learning to reach out for support from friends, family, or mental health professionals instead of trying to get it all from a romantic partner is vital in order to break co-dependency habits.

As you get closer to your own essence and learn to listen to the voice of your intuition, and eventually to act and speak from that place, you’ll be better equipped to draw the blueprints for your construction—for your own life and future.

The antidote to the persisting fantasy picture is therefore the new image itself; the reimagining of your own life, whether that involves another person in it or not. What matters is that it’s yours and that it’s real.

Imagine giving the child a choice between a glitter sprinkled picture of a unicorn and a real-life pony in the backyard and you get where I’m going. The more realistic, clear, and concise our visions are, the less likely we are to grasp for the illusory.

In the end, I know I’m no longer in love with my abuser, not even the slightest. But still, there are pieces missing from the picture I’m painting to hang where the previous map of my future once was. It might not all come together at once, and parts of the road often appear as we walk it too. What matters is that now, I’m holding the brush in my own hand.