07/27/2025
I think narcissists look for people who shine very brightly. People who stand out because of their strength, compassion, intelligence, creativity, or resilience. People with warmth in their spirit and light in their eyes. They’re not attracted to weakness—they’re attracted to excellence. But not because they want to celebrate it or protect it. They’re drawn to that light the way a moth is drawn to a flame: with obsession, with hunger, and with a silent, destructive intent.
Narcissists look for a trophy. They want someone who makes them look good by association—someone whose presence validates their sense of superiority. They want the partner everyone admires, the one who turns heads when they walk into a room, the one who uplifts and inspires others. To them, being attached to someone like that isn’t about love—it’s about leverage. They see your shine as something they can use, a tool to inflate their ego and complete the image they’ve built for the outside world.
But here’s the twist—they don’t actually know how to handle someone who shines so brightly. Once they’ve secured you—once they feel they’ve “won” the prize—they slowly begin to panic. Because your light, your independence, your confidence begins to make them feel small. They feel exposed next to your strength. Your authenticity reminds them of how fake they are. Your empathy highlights their emotional emptiness. And instead of admiring you for it, they begin to resent you.
When the honeymoon phase is over, when the mask starts to slip and reality begins to settle in, they feel threatened. Deep down, they fear being abandoned, being seen as “less than,” or being revealed for who they truly are beneath the charm. And instead of rising to meet your level, they try to drag you down. To protect their fragile ego, they begin to chip away at your sense of self. The same qualities they once praised become the ones they mock or criticize. They’ll gaslight you, isolate you, belittle you, and blame you for everything—turning the relationship into an emotional battleground where only they are allowed to win.
In their mind, destroying you is the only way to feel safe again. To feel powerful. To maintain control. And so, piece by piece, they try to dim your light. Not because you weren’t enough—but because you were too much for them. Too real. Too kind. Too strong. Too self-aware.
And perhaps the most painful part is realizing this: the love you thought you had wasn’t love at all. It was a performance, an illusion, a trap. A way to pull you close so they could feed on your light and then blame you for the darkness they carried all along.
But here’s what they never expect—you will rise again. And when you do, your light will be even brighter, because it will be powered by truth, healing, and the unshakable realization that their attempts to destroy you only proved how powerful you really are.
