
Not Everybody who hurt you is a Narcissist
- rhiannatodd85
- Jun 19
- 2 min read
(A love letter to nuance, healing, and the tricky middle ground)
There’s a trend I’ve noticed in the spiritual and self-help spaces, and it’s been quietly troubling me for a while.
We’re overusing the word narcissist.
Not clinically — not with a diagnosis — but casually. Emotionally. Spiritually. Sometimes even publicly. And often, without enough self-reflection to ask:
“Is this a label… or a lesson?”
Now, don’t get me wrong — narcissistic abuse is very real. Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) exists and it’s serious. People who have experienced emotional manipulation, gaslighting, and cycles of trauma need safe language to name what they’ve been through. Sometimes, finally identifying narcissistic traits in someone close to you can feel like the missing puzzle piece that helps your healing make sense.
But here’s the problem.
Not everyone who hurt you was a narcissist.
And not every soul lesson comes wrapped in a clinical diagnosis.
Sometimes we were simply in a relationship that mirrored our own unhealed parts. Sometimes the person we’re pointing at was acting from their pain — and we were doing the same. Sometimes, we were both playing out roles that our younger selves unconsciously assigned.
We call them narcissists.
They call us avoidant.
And round and round we go.
Here’s the truth that doesn’t get as many likes on Instagram: it’s possible to outgrow someone without needing to villainize them.
We can acknowledge harm without assigning a personality disorder to every ex, friend, parent, or spiritual teacher who disappointed us. We can honor the deep grief of betrayal while also choosing language that reflects where we’re headed — not just where we’ve been.
Because when we slap the label narcissist on someone prematurely, we shut down the opportunity to examine:
Why we stayed
What we ignored
What we were mirroring
How our soul called that dynamic in — not as punishment, but as an invitation
An invitation to wake up.
To reparent ourselves.
To develop boundaries.
To choose differently next time.
When we reduce every painful dynamic to “they were a narcissist,” we often bypass the real gold: the uncomfortable, messy, soul-shaping growth that comes from honest reflection.
It’s not about letting people off the hook — it’s about taking ourselves off the cross.
Because healing is not about staying in victimhood.
It’s about moving through it with integrity.
And integrity means… not turning every teacher into a villain.
Even if they were deeply flawed.
Even if they hurt you.
Even if they never said sorry.
You can still reclaim your power without rewriting the story as “they were a narcissist and I was their prey.”
Sometimes, the truer story is:
“We both didn’t know how to love properly back then. And now I do.”
That’s not weakness. That’s wisdom.
And in this strange era of online diagnosis and spiritual echo chambers, we could all use a little more of that.
Комментарии