The Irresistible Allure of the Abusive Narcissist
The reasons you were swayed, and why you stayed
“If I was so damn awful all the time, why did you even marry me?”
Yes, even the narcissist asked me this question as we were splitting up. In an attempt to explain why I needed to go, I summed up the things that had become unbearable, and why I’d lost faith in them getting better.
I wanted him to understand what had eventually led me to have an affair, and how seeing a glimpse of love outside our marriage had made me realize that what we shared was everything but love.
He wasn’t the only one who asked this question. Three years later, friends and family still inquire:
— Why did you stay for so long? If he was so terrible all the time, why did you not leave sooner?
That’s exactly it; it wasn’t bad all the time. No one willingly sticks around for bad-all-the-time. Sometimes it was great, and when it was, he would be plain wonderful.
And, therein lays the problem.
Michelle Ann said it best, in a quote I’ve mentioned before:
When you’re dating someone that is physically or emotionally abusive, they don’t come out of the gate swinging and calling you a whore.
Make no bones about it; the narcissist might be mean, but they’re usually intelligent to boot. While they may be energy vampires feasting on your soul, they’re damn charming, even seductive, while at it, and will leave you begging for more.
Welcome to the irresistible allure of the narcissist!
Since I’m generally seen as strong and independent, people are baffled to hear about what I “let that happen to me”. But, if you are, or have been, in a similar relationship, you know that the answer to that is multifaceted.
Never once, over the ten years I shared with my abusive ex, did I doubt my worthiness of love and happiness. I certainly didn’t kneel down and ‘take it’. I fought for us, and for myself, with all that I had—until I accepted that fighting was futile.
I’ll never view myself as a victim. I was simply someone who hadn’t seen the full picture yet. I couldn’t make out the contents of the crazy-making soup, because I was in it.
I was blinded by both the weird, and the wonderful ways of the narcissist.
It makes sense that when we recount our experiences, we highlight the reasons why we left—not why we stayed. Our stories paint the narcissist as a full-time monster, making it hard for people to understand why we endured it for so long: “What’s wrong with you?”
To clear this up, I’ve compiled the main reasons why I got hooked, and what kept me put.
My guess is, that while there are vast individual differences, many of these are relatable:
I was drawn to him like a moth to the flame.
Narcissists understand the importance of making a great first impression: They start by projecting the most picture-perfect version of themselves, which, after things start to crumble, you continue to recall as a reminder of how otherworldly they can be.
When the narcissist courts you, they’re the most amazing human being you’ve ever met—and you, theirs. Their attention and over-the-top compliments lift you to heights you never imagined possible.
To my ex, I was ‘perfect’. I was his princess; more special and exciting than any woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
He bragged about me to everyone else, too— while I was listening. I remember once when he told an old friend about me over the phone. The way he sang my praise made my heart swell and my cheeks blush a deep shade of crimson. He even described the shape of my lips to great detail. No one had ever spoken about me like that. I thought that meant that he must really, really see me.
I fell head over heels.
I felt high in his company — and I fell harder and faster than ever before.
We shared ‘I love yous’ after mere weeks and he assured me he wanted all of me — my babies, too, eventually. My 22-year-old heart melted into a sweet, sticky puddle.
— Oh yes baby, take all of me!
I was so swooned, that when the honeymoon phase fizzled out, and the praise gradually shifted into covert demands and manipulation, it was too late. I was already hooked. “He probably didn’t mean it like that,” I excused.
If you’re anything like most people who tend to be drawn to narcissists, you’re dependable and tough as nails. It takes far more than a few bumps in the road to throw you off course! Not to mention, you’re in love and you love them. You don’t just run from love, do you?
I loved him.
Simple as that. I loved the crap out of this person. With a burning passion. Even when I couldn’t stand him.
I later understood that he never loved me back, which has definitely been the most tragic and heartbreaking realization of all.
He didn’t love me, because the narcissist is incapable of really loving anyone—including their own children.
He was the smartest person I’d met.
On top of being hypnotic and fun, the narcissist is often above average intelligent, clever and well-read.
My ex was sharp as a whip, and what he lacked in manners and common decency, he made up for in copious smart-ass comments and high-brow references.
With an immense mental library of facts about almost everything worth knowing, he’d quote entire Nietche passages on a dime, sum up the discography of any cool artist, or blurt out detailed world-history trivia as small talk. His catalog of knowledge never seized to impress me.
I continued to swoon as he used his quick-wit and strong communication skills to drop names, dates, and references fast enough to out-argue anyone who dared to challenge him.
I lusted after that brain!
If you’re anything like me, you find ‘smart and confident’ the ultimate form of sexy. Sure, good looks are great too, but they don’t cut it without the brains to match.
Since I admired him so much and didn’t want him to ever feel like I was less than his intellectual equal, I worked my ass off to stay on top of all the topics he cared about.
He was the life of the party — and I had the VIP ticket.
High-functioning, exhibitionist, or grandiose narcissists are usually popular and have a ton of friends—and they miraculously manage to stay in touch with all of them.
Social media mavericks, they’re glued to their phones—unless they’re out without you, and you’re trying to reach them, that is. They have enough Facebook friends to populate a small village, and when they call, post something or make a request, the crowd responds.
Alluring and charismatic, everyone wants a piece of them—but they’ve chosen you, thus giving you a free pass to the VIP club you didn’t even know existed. It’s intoxicating and you can’t get enough!
During our time together, I had the most mind-bending experiences due to the privileges and fringe benefits our partnership provided. We had guestlist spots and backstage-passes wherever we went, and despite never having a ton of money, we were rich in a different sense.
To offer a glimpse; his connections landed us at the dinner table in the private homes of famous pop-stars, to exclusive shows and performances with legendary musicians and to penthouse parties attended by A-list celebrities and Hollywood actors—and to a five-star 1800s luxury villa in Florence, sipping Champagne with triple-digit price tags.
These were countless such experiences— none of which we paid a dime for.
My priorities have changed and these things don’t matter much anymore—and they certainly weren’t worth the price they came with. But, as shallow as it may seem, it was all pretty damn intoxicating to this small-town girl in her twenties.
He had this dark, mysterious, sexy energy.
Whether they’re highly sexual or not, narcissists often have strong libidos. Full of life-force, there’s always a lot going on — in and around them.
I hear lots of people describing sex with the narcissist as the best they’ve ever had. I wish I could at least say that I had a decade of mindblowing sex, but that wasn’t the case with my ex — partially due to some physical issues he never addressed.
He wasn’t in touch with his sexuality, or physical-self at all. Still, he had plenty of that mojo flowing through him, and he was magnetic because of it. His dark, raw and mysterious energy, which mostly fed his intellectual and creative endeavors felt like sex in ways I can’t fully explain.
I wanted to heal the pain from his miserable upbringing.
Narcissists often hail from detrimental childhoods, which is how they turn out the way they are in the first place.
My ex’s childhood was tainted with violence and neglect. The stories he told were like something out of horror-movies and shocked me to my core.
Tough as rocks he’d risen above it all: His smarts had gotten him handpicked out of his run-of-the-mill middle school, and placed in a special arts program for gifted kids. Later, a full scholarship took him to one of the country’s most acknowledged art universities.
While kids he’d grown up with had ended up in foster care, rehab or even dead from overdoses, he soared above and beyond.
His dualities amplified my attraction towards him.
He was special, and he knew it. He’d been told from an early age, especially by his hard-knock mother who’d put him on a pedestal one moment, just to beat him up the next.
Narcissists are not born, they’re made, usually either from abuse or excessive worship.
Narcissists are not born, they’re made, usually either from abuse or excessive worship. Combine the two, and you’ve got a surefire recipe for the full-blown type. Whenever my ex raged and ravaged, I saw the wounded child in him and forgave it all in an instant. He came from extreme hardship, like his parents, and parents’ parents before him.
“I can handle him!” I told myself, with a sense of pride. I took it upon me, not just to salvage him, but to heal the ancestral wounds of generations before. I was dead-set on ending the cycle of abuse with my bottomless ‘love-magic’.
So, you see, that the answer to the question “why did you stay?” isn’t a simple one. It’s never black or white, and it’s never all bad. Often, it starts out sprinkled in magic, and by the time the dust has settled, you’re bound together by years of shared experiences—as well as vows, kids and mortgages.
What I had may not have been real love, but it was addictive nonetheless. Basking in the glorious light and attention that surrounds the egomaniac is nothing short of intoxicating; so much so, that it can float you ‘punch-drunk’ through the deepest and darkest of lows.
But, after any kind of high, there’s a hangover, and the comedown from years of rollercoaster-riding with the narcissist is one where everything comes crashing down with you.
In the end, the answer to the question of why I stayed, and why I left, has the same exact same answer: It was because he was a narcissist. And while a narcissist is many things; one-sided is definitely not one of them.
