Narcissistic men treat love like a performance but service like a threat. They will shout from the rooftops how much they love their girl, but the second she is tired, overwhelmed, or simply needs help with something as small as finding her lipstick shade or as intimate as needing emotional presence, they look at her like she just asked them to donate a kidney. And what do they say? “Bro, I’m not doing all that. That’s so G.a.y.”
“G.a.y” is the word they hide behind, not just to dodge responsibility but to preserve the illusion that being a real man means being emotionally distant, selfishly unavailable, and utterly useless in a relationship. You have to understand the root of the problem: contempt for femininity. This is very clear. Narcissists do not just have a problem with helping women; they have a deeply rooted contempt for femininity itself. They associate caregiving, nurturing, and any kind of emotional labor with weakness. And weakness, to them, is what is shameful.
So they would rather let their woman bleed out—emotionally, spiritually, physically—than be seen handing her a band-aid. Because God forbid someone thinks they care. God forbid someone thinks they’re soft. God forbid someone thinks they are a man with a heart. It is contempt; it is their belief system. It is a twisted, toxic value system in them that says, “You are the woman. You serve me. You revolve around me. I’m not here to carry your bags; I am here to throw them at you.” Typical caveman behavior.
This episode is for every woman who was made to feel like a burden just for asking her partner to act like a decent human being. For every woman who was guilt-tripped, mocked, or outright insulted for expecting her partner to help—not as a favor but as a function of being in a relationship. For every woman who watched her man go out of his way for strangers, his boss, his boys, but somehow always forgot to do the smallest things for her.
Because this is not just about housework, lipstick, or remembering your birthday. This is about how a narcissist weaponizes masculinity to devalue the woman he claims to love until she starts questioning her worth entirely, and I am going to expose all of it.
The topic for today is what happens when a narcissist thinks helping a woman is G.a.y. This behavior—the belief that helping your own woman somehow makes you weak or G.a.y—does not just come out of thin air. It’s not an accidental trait; it’s a result of programming.
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And this programming comes from one of the most toxic places of all: the family system. The narcissistic family structure functions like a hive. Everyone plays a role. Everyone protects the same old rotten values. And anything that deviates from those values is marked, beaten down, and humiliated into silence.
These boys are taught from a very young age to see kindness as weakness and service as shameful. They’re taught that nurturing is not masculine, that being attentive is embarrassing, and that any kind of emotional intelligence or sensitivity makes you less of a man. And they do not just learn this by observation; they are drilled into it.
I still remember this moment so clearly from my own life: my little cousin, who was barely two years old at the time, saw his mom sitting in a group of women at a family gathering. He walked over to her with pure innocence, just wanting to sit near her—maybe feel safe, maybe get a hug. And right then, my uncle, his father—a grown man who had no business interfering in that moment of affection—barked at him with disgust, “Don’t go to her! Where are you, G.a.y?”
I will never forget the silence that followed and the laughter—laughter from the elders, the other men, and even some of the women. That poor child shriveled inside himself that day. His face dropped, his little body froze, and something pure and human inside him was crushed. And that’s what it looks like. This generational attack on softness—that’s how these men are made. They aren’t born emotionally shut off; they’re shamed into becoming emotionally useless.
And once they get that shame locked in, they spend the rest of their lives defending it, building a false identity around it, and projecting it onto every woman they meet. They become allergic to helping their partners. Why? Because they equate love with powerlessness, vulnerability with weakness. And in their minds, if they are not dominating, they’re losing.
So helping their woman feels like total submission. They would rather go above and beyond for their male friends, their boss, even strangers online—anyone but the woman who shares their home, their bed, and their life. Why do they do this, though? Because they were never taught that a woman is their equal. They were never shown. They were taught she is a helper, a background character, a cheerleader for his ego.
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You ask one of these men to help around the house, and he acts like you have insulted him or his lineage. Suggest therapy? Oh, he will roll his eyes, big time. Want him to carry your bag or remember your lipstick shade? He will make a joke out of it, post about it online to get validation from his equally broken friends—”alphas,” they call themselves. Because doing anything thoughtful, soft, or attentive is a threat to his whole identity.
It does not matter if it would make the relationship better. It does not matter at all if it would make you feel safe and cared for. The only thing that matters to him is that no one accuses him of being weak, feminine, or G.a.y. And this is the twisted part: this isn’t just about the man; this is about the entire system he comes from, which includes his mother, his sisters, and his aunts.
They’re often complicit in this, too, because in a narcissistic family cult, everyone protects the crown. The mother will defend her son no matter how cruel, distant, or abusive he is to his partner because if he is wrong, then she’s a failure. If he is emotionally stunted, then she has to face the guilt of what she allowed or taught. So instead, she will blame the daughter-in-law, say she is demanding, say she’s emasculating him, say she is trying to change him—because admitting the truth would break the illusion that she raised a strong man.
The sisters, you ask about, often join in too. They have learned to protect their brother’s image at all costs. And when you try to speak up, they all look at you like you’re some crazy person—like you’re the problem, like you’re the unstable one, like you expect too much. It’s all part of the same disease, the same rot. A boy gets punished for showing affection and is praised for being distant. A girl gets punished for asking for support and is praised for staying silent.
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And it becomes a factory, a production line for broken men and suppressed women—all hiding behind a smile and the word “culture.” This is the family that I come from. These men do not just withhold help; they mock it. They make you feel stupid for needing anything at all. They will see you carrying heavy groceries, working all day, or breaking down in tears from exhaustion, and they will sit there watching, scrolling, laughing. Because in their mind, the more indifferent they are, the more power they hold—weaponized incompetence.
They want to be praised just for not abandoning you, just for staying. But God forbid they actually show up. And when they do something small, like take your car for servicing or bring home food, they will weaponize it for weeks. They will want to be worshipped as if they are the savior of humanity. You will hear about it every time you ask for something else: “I just did that for you! What more do you want?”
As if a partnership is a point system, as if love is a debt you owe them. As if helping the woman who holds your emotional world together is a favor and not a fundamental part of being a man in a relationship. You know what real men do? They help. They notice and remember. They pick up your medicine before you ask. They know your pain points, and they do not weaponize them. They sit with you in silence when you are too tired to talk.
They do not treat compassion like currency; they give it freely. Why? Because they are present. That’s a key. That’s what love looks like when it’s healthy, when it’s mature, and when it’s real. But you know what it’s like with a narcissist? He’s not there to love. He is there to control, to perform, and to extract. The moment you start expecting him to emotionally invest, he starts emotionally withdrawing.
That’s exactly what happens because you are no longer a passive participant in his fantasy, in his game. And that terrifies him. That’s how the devaluation begins. Now he’s accountable. Now he has to grow. Now he has to do something he was never prepared for: become an actual man. And when you stop begging, when you stop adjusting, when you stop lowering your standards just to maintain peace, that is when he turns.
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He will say you have changed. He will say you are no longer the sweet girl he fell in love with. He will say you have become too modern, too bossy, too masculine. But all that really means is you have stopped accepting crumbs. And for a man who has built his self-worth on being the one in control, that is the ultimate threat.
And let me tell you the truth he will never say out loud: when you walk away from such a man, when you stop needing him, when you start thriving without his help, he will feel like a ghost in his own life. He will scroll through your pictures, watch your stories, ask mutual friends about you, but he won’t reach out because his ego won’t allow it.
And even if he does, it won’t be to take accountability. It will be to reassert dominance, to see if you’re still there, if there is still a chance he can keep you small. But you won’t, because once you have seen the truth, once you have felt the ache of loving someone who thinks your emotional needs are G.a.y, once you have cried alone while he laughed with his boys, once you have begged for affection and been met with silence, you do not go back. You grow out of it. You rise. You reclaim yourself.
And he stays the same—trapped in his ego, in his performance, surrounded by his enablers, applauded by fools too proud to evolve, too empty to love, too fragile to ever be what you needed. Because helping you did not make him G.a.y; it would have made him human. And that’s something he never had the courage to become.
That’s what you have to fully accept and understand if you want to heal from this kind of disastrous experience. I am doing a free workshop on June 5th, which happens to be my birthday. It’s going to happen in three chapters. If you want to book your spot right now before we close it, click the link in the description, and I will see you there. Until then, let the healing begin.
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