If You Are Drawn To Narcissists & Psychopaths, You Are Probably This...

“Hate the sin, not the sinner.” Whatever your beliefs may be, I think this principle is still worth honoring. These days, half the internet seems convinced their ex is a textbook example of the dark triad. Meanwhile, others proudly declare themselves self-diagnosed histrionics and post cringey debates about which “evil disorder” would win in some imaginary battle. One group clings to the idea that the narcissists they once loved are beyond redemption. The other wrongly assumes that being a psychopath somehow means being a genius. Personally, I think both views miss the mark.

One of my earliest primary nurturers fits the description for covert narcissism. During his bipolar mania episodes, my first love epitomized the grandiose narcissist. Looking back on the first couple decades of my adult life, I realize that I was operating as a dark empath. At our core, all three of us were very much alike, which is why our paths had so much crossover and repetition. Everyone I am referring to, including myself, is a highly sensitive person who learned through early childhood trauma that detachment and manipulation was a necessary means for self-preservation. In my case, I had no idea that I had been dark until I examined my past with the intention of connecting the dots that I never understood about myself. 

To be clear, I don't believe these titles are permanent for anyone. To me, they simply name the place we are at in our emotional and spiritual evolution. Extremely early trauma is probably responsible for the highly sensitive nature that made me empathic. Many subsequent childhood traumas turned me dark, without my realizing this at the time. The troubles I created for myself as a dark empath, along with the inevitability of age, led me to seek accountability as a means of reclaiming some control over my own life. Self-awareness and fatigue - because being a manipulator is exhausting - no longer leave space for me to be the dark empath I once was. 

"How can someone be a narcissist or a dark empath without realizing it?" Some may wonder. I'll quickly summarize how it happened to me and then get to the important part - YOU. 

At 11-years-old, I consciously detached from my primary nurturer when I knew that I was going to be separated from them indefinitely. I still knew I loved them, but I never again felt that love. That rupture in my emotional bond with them, affected the way I felt everything associated with love from that moment onward. This is why I recognized myself in the description of dark empaths having high cognitive empathy, without the emotional empathy to support it. Lacking a consistent support system, using people - usually men, was a means of survival. I shared parts of myself that would elicit the response I needed from whomever I intended to use at that time. I didn't understand that my perceiving people as a resource was abusive; introspection doesn't happen in survival mode. 

This is also the reason I never understood why, when given attention from men I could sense were capable of loving me, I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. A feeling that was eerily reminiscent of the abuse that led to my separation from my primary nurturer. The possibility of love being bestowed upon me, simply reminded me that I was no longer capable of reciprocating that feeling - even when I wanted to. I was broken, and that realization always came with sensory flashbacks of why. 

What I could feel was fear, lust, competition, and drama. That recipe for 'attraction' is the pheromone of the disorder that binds us to those who share our inability to feel. That toxic attachment that looks like a soulmate is just an equally broken soul. 

Motherhood was a bit of a breakthrough for me, although I don't believe I loved my children through the same means as healthy women. Women who lack trauma express motherly love through the small moments, cherished and recorded. They trust the world around them, and are surprised when something awful happens. I've observed that such mothers have the ability to impart resilience to their kids in response to misfortune. 

My healthiest primary love language has always been protection. It makes sense because a lack of protection is what sired my need to disconnect from love as a child. Thus I have always been a highly protective parent. Being intelligent enough to understand that smothering children endangers their well-being, I have never helicoptered them. I am, however,  hyper-communicative and vigilant in preparing my children for every pitfall this earth might present to one lacking in awareness and self-worth. I don’t want sheltered kids or perfection; I want them to know who they are, what they want, and live in their own conscious truth. I am hellbent on that. Albeit unconventionally, I have always loved my children with dynamic ferocity. For a long time I believed that they were the only source of love possible for me - and that was plenty as far as I was concerned.

It wasn't until later in my life (this decade!) that I realized that protection was also the means of a healthy love exchange between myself and a romantic partner. Emotional safety doesn't just imitate love for me, it frees my inner child to feel love without fear. Understand?

Do you recognize yourself in any part of my story? 

Do you find yourself oddly averse to genuinely good men who tick all the boxes that would make them worthy of your love? 

Do you fixate on petty flaws to justify dismissal of good potential partners, while overlooking red flags in emotionally unavailable infatuations?

Do you bully the man who is kind and communicative only to be 'led' by the man who gives you mixed signals?

Does rejecting a good man for petty reasons elevate your fragile sense of self-worth?

Does being rejected by a deceiver or a womanizer send you spiraling into a need to prove yourself worthy of being his first choice?

Do you feel the need to prove anything to men who don't value you?

If any of  these are even a partial yes for you, there's a good chance that you are in the dark, both in how you operate and your own self-awareness. At some point in your life, probably very early on - you were conditioned to believe that vulnerability was dangerous for you. Love requires vulnerability, and you will avoid it through a myriad of covert means until you identify the original source of your fear. Your true love language isn’t one of the five; it’s unique to your story - shaped as the very antidote to whatever wounded the purity of your love at a pivotal moment in your life.

The only universal truth about love for women is this: the most attractive trait in any man should be his capacity to love you. If that's not clear early on, but sparks are flying; there's a good chance that you're chasing a dumpster fire. There's also a good chance that you are as damaged as your most toxic exes, pick your title. The good news is that just like them, you are not your past, you can change and you are worthy of love.

***After publishing this I thought of an important question. Is it worth it to the narcissist or related type for them to change? Yes, it’s peaceful on the other side and you get to see who you really are with the lights on.