Notes On… Narcissism

Narcissism is not confidence.
It’s not arrogance.
It’s not a selfie.
It’s not every bad date or selfish ex.

True narcissism is not self-love.
It’s self-protection in the shape of self-importance.

It says:
If I impress you, you won’t leave me.
If I shine, you won’t see my shame.
If I control the story, I don’t have to feel how alone I really am.

Narcissism, at its core, is a relational injury.
A rupture in early development where the child learned:
You only matter if you perform.
Needs make you weak.
Vulnerability is unsafe.

So the child builds a false self,
curated, charismatic, sometimes cruel,
to keep the emptiness away.

Clients say:
He made everything about him.
She couldn’t handle feedback without rage.
It felt like there was no room for me in the room.

And they’re not wrong.
Narcissistic defenses can be manipulative, invalidating, and abusive.
But therapy doesn’t diagnose to shame.
It names the pattern to understand the protection.

Because narcissism is not who someone is.
It’s how they learned to survive.

And yes, people with narcissistic traits can do harm.
But they can also heal.
If they are willing to turn inward.
If they can tolerate the collapse of the false self.
If they’re held with boundaries and compassion.

And not everyone with narcissistic traits has Narcissistic Personality Disorder.
We all have moments of defensiveness, inflation, and self-focus.
What matters is how we repair.
How we relate.
How much space we make for others to exist alongside us.

Therapists must be careful.
Narcissism is not a slur.
It is a diagnosis.

A constellation.

A system of defense that often hides a profound emptiness.

And calling everyone a narcissist?
That’s not clinical awareness.
That’s avoidance dressed as empowerment.

Let’s stay nuanced.
Let’s hold boundaries and empathy at once.
Let’s not confuse pop language for truth.

Let’s remember:
Even grandiosity is sometimes a cry for connection.