- Gender and Relationships
To The Narcissist Whom I Once Loved
For two years, I fought for you. Day in. Day out. For two years, I became less of a person. I let you use me as the punching bag you simply must have in your life. I know it’s not your fault–you can’t help that you have a disorder so serious that it can even hide itself from you. I have read all about Narcissism, and I promise you. You are textbook.
You started out so sweet and loving. I thought you were the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen. (I was wrong, but I didn't know it then.) I tried to fix you, as any empathetic healer would have done, but your victimizing path ended us before I could make you realize that you needed help.
I felt awful. Why? Because I am a caregiver. I don’t give up on people. I fought for you until I realized I was the only fighter participating in the battle. I fought for you even when you made everyone believe I was crazy. I fought for you until it actually seemed as though I was the crazy one. Now I realize that I was right to fight--not for you, but for myself. I was never the crazy one.
I am, however, codependent to some extent. After all, Narcissists choose codependents, so that makes sense as to why you chose me. I am codependent because I want to be with one person and one person only. When I meet that person, I am dependent on them to remain the person they made me believe they were in the first place.
I no longer love you, but I will also always resent you. I will resent you because you signify the failed relationship that I refused to accept. You signify the creator of my insecurities and doubts.
You and your remarkably structured personality disorder.
It was so hard for me to understand why you treated me the way you did for so long. I didn't understand your harsh words. I didn’t understand your back and forth attitude. I didn’t understand your sick fetish with making me suffer. I didn’t understand your lack of empathy. I didn’t understand your superiority complex.
What I do understand is that I didn’t deserve any of it. I was so good to you. You have a problem, but you turned my attempts to fix your problem into my own problem. I was never crazy. I was simply a target who happened to love a weapon. You will never comprehend love and dedication. You’ll never understand the faults of mine that you created existed only in your head. And this will be true for every woman after me.
I hope my daughters never meet men who are capable of your type of torturous treatment. I am so thankful that I am now blessed with a man who is nothing like you.