You’re not failing to understand people, things, and situations because you’re close-minded. A possible reason for this is that someone blindfolded you or made you see the world through their lenses. Today, we’ll talk about how narcissistic abuse changes the way you see the world.
Are you ready for number one? You see relationships as potential traps. What if love isn’t a safe haven but a trap waiting to unfold? That’s the reality you start living after experiencing narcissistic abuse. You no longer see relationships as places of comfort and support, but as potential threats. After all you’ve been through, you’ve seen the cycle before: the love-bombing, the slow erosion of your confidence, the feeling of being controlled without even realizing it.
Dr. Ramani Durvasula, a clinical psychologist specializing in narcissistic abuse, explains that survivors often develop a heightened sense of weariness, always scanning for red flags because they’ve learned that even kindness can be a disguise. You start questioning everyone’s intentions. A compliment feels like manipulation, and a promise feels like it was made to be broken. Even when someone genuinely cares, you wonder, “What’s the catch?”
This shift in perspective isn’t just emotional; it rewires your brain. Your nervous system has been trained to expect betrayal, making trust feel like a reckless gamble rather than a foundation for connection. That’s why even safe relationships can feel suffocating. You might pull away the moment someone gets too close, fearing history will repeat itself. Healing starts when you recognize that your fear is a survival response, not a universal truth. The real challenge isn’t avoiding relationships; it’s learning how to tell the difference between a genuine connection and another disguised trap.
Let’s talk about number two: you question your perceptions. After being gaslighted so many times, you stop trusting your own eyes, ears, and instincts. Even when something feels blatantly wrong, that little voice in your head whispers, “Are you sure? Maybe you’re just overreacting.” This isn’t just self-doubt; it’s conditioning. Dr. Robin Stern, author of The Gaslight Effect, explains that gaslighting works because it slowly erodes your confidence, making you question reality itself.
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When someone repeatedly tells you that what you saw didn’t happen or that you’re too sensitive, your brain starts rewriting its memories to match their version of the truth. Just like that, you become your own skeptic, arguing against your gut feelings even when they’re screaming at you. This constant second-guessing doesn’t just stay in the past; it follows you everywhere. You hesitate before speaking up, unsure if your thoughts are valid. You replay conversations in your head, wondering if you misunderstood something. Even when people validate your experiences, a part of you still wonders if you made it all up.
But here’s the truth: you weren’t crazy then, and you’re not crazy now. The doubt you feel isn’t proof that you were wrong; it’s proof that you were manipulated. Healing starts when you remind yourself that your instincts are never the enemy; they were just silenced.
Now let’s move on to number three: you see kindness as suspicious. After narcissistic abuse, every nice gesture feels like a setup. Kindness stops feeling like kindness; it starts feeling like bait. You’ve been through it before—someone showers you with compliments, does thoughtful things for you, and makes you feel special until the mask slips. Suddenly, those sweet gestures come with strings attached.
George Simon, author of In Sheep’s Clothing, explains that manipulative people use charm as a tool, not as a genuine expression of care. So now, when someone offers to help you or compliments you, your first instinct isn’t gratitude; it’s suspicion. What do they want? When is the other shoe going to drop? It’s not paranoia; it’s self-protection. The problem is this mindset doesn’t just keep bad people out; it can also block the good ones. Not everyone is playing a long con.
But here’s the truth: not everyone who is kind is trying to control you. Healing means learning to tell the difference between genuine care and manipulation, not assuming that all kindness is a trick.
Let’s continue to number four: you feel like happiness is temporary or fake. Why does happiness feel like the calm before the storm? After narcissistic abuse, even joy comes with a warning label. You’ve been conditioned to expect that good moments are just setups for bad ones. Maybe the narcissist in your life gave you glimpses of kindness only to tear you down right after. So now, when things are going well, you don’t relax; you brace yourself.
This kind of thinking makes it hard to fully enjoy anything. Instead of soaking in the good moments, you mentally prepare for the fall. Psychologist Dr. Rick Hansen calls this negativity bias, where your brain holds on to bad experiences more than good ones as a survival mechanism. But here’s the catch: that constant anticipation of disappointment doesn’t protect you; it just steals your peace. Healing starts when you realize that happiness isn’t a trick. Yes, life has ups and downs, but not every good moment is a setup for disaster. The challenge is learning to sit with joy without fearing it. Real happiness isn’t just about feeling safe; it’s about trusting that you deserve to feel good.
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You shouldn’t miss number five: you expect rejection before it happens. What’s the point of getting attached if they’re just going to leave anyway? That’s the thought that lingers in the back of your mind after narcissistic abuse. When you’ve been discarded—whether through silent treatments, sudden breakups, or emotional neglect—you start to believe that abandonment is inevitable. Even when someone genuinely cares about you, there’s a part of you that stays on high alert, waiting for the moment they walk away.
Dr. Lindsay Gibson, author of Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, explains that when rejection becomes a pattern, your brain starts treating it as a certainty rather than a possibility. So instead of enjoying your relationships, you prepare for the ending. You overanalyze people’s moods, distance yourself before they can, or even push them away because at least you get to be the one in control of the goodbye.
The problem is that expecting rejection often turns into a self-fulfilling prophecy. When you’re always bracing for abandonment, it’s hard to fully connect with people. That emotional distance can make them pull away—not because they were going to leave, but because they never felt truly led in. Trauma expert Dr. Janina Fisher describes this as preemptive rejection, where survivors unconsciously create the outcome they fear.
But here’s the truth: not everyone is going to leave. Yes, some people will, but others will stay if you let them. Healing starts when you recognize that past abandonment doesn’t define your future relationships. Instead of assuming rejection is inevitable, give people a chance to prove you wrong.
Are you still up for number six? You have a hard time feeling safe. Safety—whether emotional, financial, or even physical—starts to feel temporary, like something that can be ripped away at any moment. Maybe you were once in a place where you thought you were secure, only to have the rug pulled out from under you. So now, when things are stable, you don’t relax; you wait for disaster.
Dr. Pete Walker, author of Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving, explains that survivors of prolonged trauma develop an overactive alarm system, always scanning for threats even when none exist. It’s not paranoia; it’s survival. You’ve learned that peace doesn’t last, so instead of enjoying it, you prepare for the moment it disappears. This makes it hard to trust even the good things in life.
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If someone is kind, you wonder what their angle is. If you finally reach financial stability, you brace for an unexpected expense to wipe it out. If you feel emotionally safe, you second-guess whether it’s real or just a setup for future pain. Dr. Bruce Perry, co-author of What Happened to You?, explains that early experiences of instability shape the brain to expect more of the same, making calmness feel unfamiliar, even unsafe. But here’s the truth: stability isn’t a trick, and you do deserve it. Healing starts when you recognize that not every peaceful moment is the calm before the storm. Sometimes, safety is real; it just takes time to trust it.
Let’s keep it moving to number seven: you fear being seen. Attention—especially the wrong kind—once brought judgment, criticism, or even punishment. Maybe when you spoke up, you were mocked. Maybe when you succeeded, someone tried to tear you down. Over time, you learned that standing out wasn’t worth the risk. So now, you shrink yourself. You downplay your achievements, avoid speaking your mind, and hesitate to take up space.
Dr. Carol Dweck, author of Mindset, explains that when people are repeatedly shamed or criticized, they internalize the belief that success or visibility makes them a target. It’s not that you don’t want to be seen; you’ve just been conditioned to believe that visibility equals vulnerability. But hiding comes at a cost. When you keep yourself small, you don’t just avoid negativity; you also miss out on opportunities, recognition, and meaningful connections.
Dr. Brené Brown says in her book The Gifts of Imperfection that true belonging only happens when we allow ourselves to be seen—really seen. The irony is that the more you fear judgment, the more power you give to those who once made you feel unworthy. Healing starts when you realize that your voice, your success, and your presence are not threats; they are yours to own.
Here comes number eight: you feel responsible for other people’s emotions. When you’ve dealt with a narcissist, you learn that their moods control the entire environment. If they’re upset, you’re walking on eggshells. If they’re pleased, you finally get a moment of peace until the next storm. Over time, you start believing that it’s your job to keep people happy, even at your own expense.
Dr. Lindsay C. Gibson, author of Who You Were Meant to Be, explains that children of emotionally immature people grow up feeling responsible for the feelings of others because they were trained to anticipate and manage emotional chaos. So now, when someone looks upset, your first instinct is to fix it, even if it has nothing to do with you. It’s exhausting, and it’s not your job. People’s emotions are theirs to handle, not yours. But breaking this habit is tough because it feels like letting go of control.
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Dr. Harriet Lerner, in her book The Dance of Anger, writes that when you’ve spent your life caretaking other people’s emotions, setting boundaries can feel like an act of betrayal. You might feel guilty for not rushing in to smooth things over. But here’s the truth: real relationships don’t require you to be a constant emotional caretaker. Healthy people don’t expect you to manage their feelings; they take responsibility for their own. And you deserve that same freedom.
Moving on to number nine: you feel uncomfortable with peaceful relationships. Calmness feels wrong when chaos used to be normal. When you’ve lived in survival mode, peace doesn’t feel comforting; it feels suspicious. A healthy, stable relationship might leave you waiting for the catch. You might even create conflict just to feel something familiar.
Dr. Vanita Ma, a clinical psychologist, explains that people who grow up in unpredictable environments often associate calmness with the quiet before the storm. Your brain, wired for self-protection, struggles to accept that not every relationship has to be a battlefield. So instead of enjoying the peace, you brace for an explosion that never comes—or worse, unconsciously provoke one just to regain a sense of control.
But here’s the truth: stability isn’t boring, and peace isn’t a trap. It’s just unfamiliar. Dr. Judith R. Shaw, an expert in trauma recovery, explains that the nervous system adapts to chaos, making tranquility feel unsafe even when it’s exactly what we need. That’s why healthy relationships might seem dull or even suspicious at first. But the problem isn’t the relationship; it’s the past teaching you that love and pain have to coexist. Healing means learning to sit with stability without expecting disaster. Not every calm moment is the buildup to destruction; sometimes, it’s just peace, and you deserve to let yourself trust it.
Finally, we’re down to number ten: you feel like an impostor in your own life. After years of being told you were wrong, overreacting, or simply not good enough, success doesn’t feel real; it feels like an accident. Maybe you landed a great job, built a stable life, or accomplished something meaningful, but deep down, you wonder if you deserve it.
Dr. Valerie Young, author of The Secret Thoughts of Successful Women, calls this impostor syndrome and explains that people who have been invalidated in the past often believe their achievements are the result of luck, not ability. Narcissistic abuse conditions you to doubt yourself so much that even when you finally win, you struggle to believe you earned it.
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But here’s the truth: you’re not an impostor; you’re just healing from years of being made to feel small. The reason you doubt yourself isn’t because you lack skill or intelligence; it’s because someone once made you question your worth at every turn. Dr. Tara Brach, in Radical Acceptance, explains that self-doubt is often a learned response—a survival mechanism from an environment where nothing you did was ever enough. The challenge now isn’t proving yourself; it’s believing in yourself. Your achievements are real, your success is real, and most importantly, you are real. The only thing that was ever fake was the lie that made you doubt it in the first place.
Narcissistic abuse changes the way you see everything. It’s like wearing a pair of glasses that make the world look darker even when the sun is shining. But here’s the good news: you can take those glasses off. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting what happened; it means learning to see the world through your own eyes again, not the distorted lens of abuse. And little by little, as you choose yourself, set boundaries, and surround yourself with healthy people, the world starts to look a lot brighter.
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