Escaped: Life After Covert Narcissism, My Story

I'll never forget that night. I was about 29 years old, completely adrenalized with overwhelm and panic. Ever since I'd had my baby, I'd started waking up from panic attacks, flooded with emotion and memories from my childhood. The only way to stop them would be to sit with my daughter. She was my beacon of hope. To feel this deeply for another human being gave me this new sense of purpose, yet also put into stark contrast everything else in my life. Leaning against that crib rail, I felt the grief of my entire childhood overcome me. In that profound moment, I realized what my parents did to me was never love I'm Meadow devore. For over two decades I've dedicated my life to teaching and researching the complexities of self worth and the dark shadows of narcissistic abuse that lurked behind so many of our struggles. You might know me as a teacher, author, coach and researcher in this field and I typically focus on tools and strategies. But today I wanted to do something a little different and share a little bit of my own personal story about reclaiming my self worth and recovering from narcissistic abuse. I'll share what some of the early warning signs looked like in my life, what finally made it click for me, and the very first steps I took on my path to healing. Going back to that night standing next to my daughter's crib, I could no longer minimize the gravity of my parents abuse. I could no longer make excuses for them. I was focused mostly on the physical abuse at that point. It took me years to realize that although violence is harrowing and traumatizing, there was a much larger and more toxic and more vicious legacy to my childhood. At that point I didn't know about narcissistic abuse. I didn't understand the depth of that type of emotional abuse, nor did I realize that I had been unwittingly falling into that same pattern throughout my life. However, at the time there were signs that I was aware of. I just didn't understand the core issues. I knew that I was deeply unhappy in my marriage and that I didn't trust my husband. At the same time, I was also irrationally terrified to leave him. I knew that my parents had been physically violent and abusive, but I was frozen with grief after my mom died and completely driven to try to gain my father's approval. I knew inwardly that I felt unwanted, broken, not enough, and outwardly, I did my best to maintain this appearance of being put together, confident, optimistic. I knew that if someone was kind to me, I felt burdened and indebted to them. And if someone wasn't kind to me, I felt this pressure to perform to people please, to dance, to hustle, to do anything to try to gain their favor. I knew that my strategy in every relationship was to try to need nothing, to want nothing, and to do everything myself. But I didn't realize how detrimental this was. After that night in my daughter's room, it was like I'd been jolted awake with love. Like up until that moment in my life, I realized I had never really experienced being loved, nor had I ever truly loved another person. It was like this bolt of lightning that broke my heart open. And once I started feeling and remembering and waking up, I couldn't avoid myself anymore. It was that love for my daughter and my fierce need to protect her that eventually became the catalyst for leaving. The painful end of my marriage was both an ending and a beginning. As I navigated single parenthood, every decision was haunted by my past parenting. My daughter, however, became my compass. Her innocence contrasted starkly with my traumatic past. The way I felt about her, the protective instinct that surged in me. It made me question the so called love I had received in each of these relationships. The friends who came and went, the the love that promised safety but delivered pain and the pure love I felt for my daughter unveiled patterns and asked hard questions and propelled me toward this path of introspection and recovery. I wish divorce had been the thing that woke me up to the pattern, but it wasn't for me. There wasn't one big turning point. It was more like a domino effect where I continued to date narcissists, befriend them, hire them all while still having a massive blind spot. I was able to start spotting malignant and grandiose narcissists around me. Those larger than life, super extroverted need to be the center of attention type narcissists. But I didn't even know about COVID narcissism, also called vulnerable narcissism. But in many of my relationships I kept hitting this point where I realized the relationship was toxic, or I felt trapped, or I felt stuck and didn't know how to get away. And sometimes there was something so strikingly unforgivable or bizarre, but it helped to clarify the issue. Eventually. A few moments stand out. My ex husband fought tooth and nail to prevent our daughter from getting the therapy she so desperately needed post divorce. It made absolutely no sense to me. I remember feeling stunned and confused, wondering why someone who supposedly loves her would rather go to court than to allow her to get help. I couldn't find an answer to that question. Click. Then came another piece of the puzzle. My own father's alarming threat towards me and my daughter. When I refused to give him my kidney, he wasn't asking for a favor. He was demanding a piece of my body, as if he had a right to it. I couldn't fathom the idea of asking my own daughter to make that sacrifice. I remember thinking I'd give her my kidney in a heartbeat, but I could never take hers. I could never threaten her health or well being for my own gain. Click. Another piece. A guy I'd been dating asked me for money, saying he couldn't provide for his kids. He had quit his job, he wasn't looking for work, and he called me selfish and greedy for not providing more for them. And I felt guilty. I really loved his kids. But it came to this point where I had to choose to care for me and my daughter or to keep funneling guilt money to bail him out. I couldn't understand why someone would just keep asking for money without trying to get a job. I couldn't fathom being in this position of refusing to provide for my own daughter. Click. Click, click. In all three of these cases, it was my love for my daughter that helped me see the problem. The more I opened my eyes, the more I realized that I was surrounded by people who were more than willing to harm me and my daughter, to use us, to abuse us. And this is why narcissistic abuse is so devastating. Because it isn't even about the first narcissist or the second or the third. It's about how we've been trained to behave, to become the perfect counterpart to them, so that eventually, everywhere we look, we. We are surrounded by them. And that was my real turning point. When I realized that this wasn't about the toxic relationships, the abuse, or the abusers. It was about me and what I was doing to attract, allow, and enable this pattern. My first step toward healing, believe it or not, was by working on my relationship with money. I filed for divorce in 2009 at the height of the real estate crisis. And as a newly single mom, I was half a million dollars in debt. I had to liquidate my assets to try to pay off all my loans. And I had enormous shame and guilt about money. I had a lot of baggage left over from my marriage and my childhood, and these were chains I had to break. I had to figure out how to reclaim my power, especially now as a protector and provider for my daughter. If you've been following my work for a long time. You might remember that this is exactly where I started teaching, coaching and writing about how our relationship with money reflects our innermost beliefs about life itself. And to this day, these tools are still fundamental in my coaching and teaching. Step two was a very wobbly approach to learning boundaries. I of course was terrible at them. My first attempts were either way too harsh or way too lenient and I had thought that boundaries were really about setting rules and consequences. I now understand and teach how boundaries are really about defining a sense of self. They are about honoring feelings, easier said than done and telling the truth. Also easier said than done. They are about protecting your resources. To heal from narcissistic abuse and to end my involvement in the pattern and to not only avoid narcissists, but to actually aggressively repel them. I had to build a strong and abiding sense of self worth. That means that I had to stop people pleasing. I had to strengthen and refine my boundaries through honoring my own emotions and defining my sense of self. And then I had to work hard to elevate my value. This tied back to my original money work, working in a basic supply and demand approach that I eventually made into tools that have become the self worth work that you hear me teach on this channel. I live, breathe and teach these tools and that doesn't mean it's not hard or painful for me. It took me a long time to heal and to be honest, I don't even know if heal is the right word. This work is difficult and the wounds run deep. So it's not like I've gotten to a forever place where narcissistic abuse can't affect me. It's more that I recognize it now and understand more what I'm dealing with. I'm way better at spotting narcissists covert or overt, and I consciously and intentionally repel them and avoid them. I no longer feel unworthy, unlovable, unwanted. I no longer live in a constant state of guilt and resentment. I've emptied my life of toxic relationships and I've filled my life with meaningful and loving connections. I feel strong, solid, purposeful and loved. I will tell you it is hard work. It might be the work of your life. Things can and will get better. So that's my story and I'd love to hear from you. If you have any questions or if you'd like to share your story, please leave a comment. Thanks for listening.