Breaking the Chains of Covert Narcissism: My Journey to Freedom

Jul '25 (edited) • General

Have you ever felt like you were losing yourself, bit by bit, without even realizing it?

That’s where I was—trapped, not in a physical cage, but in a web of subtle manipulation. It started so small, like a whisper you barely notice. A comment here, an expectation there. “This won’t touch who I am,” I told myself, adjusting to avoid triggering her trauma. But as David JP Phillips might say, stories have power, and this one was quietly rewriting mine. In my book A Blanket Full of Dreams, I describe life as a tightrope walk, balancing between who you are and who you’re pressured to become. In this relationship, that rope was pulled so tight I could barely breathe.

Picture us on the Gele Ruitersplein, a square in Arnhem, sunlight warming the cobblestones, but her eyes darkened when my phone buzzed with a message from a friend. Friendships—some over a decade old, forged in tough times and pure connection—were deemed threats. She demanded access to my phone, my WhatsApp, my entire life. “Delete them,” she insisted, claiming it was to protect her trauma. My body screamed in protest, but I complied. Her pain, she said, couldn’t be disturbed. Can you recall a moment when you gave up something precious to keep the peace?

Every three months, she sent me in a new direction. I had to account for every minute of my day—where I was, what I did. If I didn’t, it might “trigger her.” Meanwhile, she claimed her freedom to come and go without explanation, because questioning her would “hurt her trauma.” I was so conditioned that when she was gone, I’d sit frozen on the couch, afraid to act beyond what I’d told her I’d do. If she was gone for an hour and I finished my tasks in fifteen minutes, I’d wait, like a shadow of myself. Even a cherished painting by my grandfather was lost to her final threat: “Anything you leave behind, you’ll never see again.” Have you ever felt paralyzed by someone else’s expectations, waiting for their permission to live? There is no happiness to be found there, is there?

I tried to leave three times. Each time, she dangled hope—like claiming she’d been in therapy for weeks, making me believe she cared enough to change. But did she ever see a therapist? I’ll never know. Her freedom was sacred; mine was suffocated. The fourth time, I found the strength. I loaded my life into my car and drove away, her words echoing: “What you don’t take now, you’ll never get back.”

The real turning point came later, in an online personal growth group. I commented on a post, and someone replied, “Have you heard of covert narcissism?” My first instinct was defensive: “I’m not a narcissist!” But then I paused. What if this wasn’t about me? I deleted my comment and dove into research. Reading about covert narcissism was like holding a mirror to my past. Every trait—her subtle control, her manipulation, her perfectly timed promises—fit like a puzzle. The truth hit like lightning: I had allowed this. My lack of boundaries, my need to please, to save, had let me sink into this quicksand.

As I write in A Blanket Full of Dreams, our past can chain us—mine echoed a moment at 16, forced to call my father to reject a gift because my mother demanded it. That suffocating feeling of “no way out” was hauntingly familiar. Have you ever had an “aha” moment that changed how you saw your past and how it affects you now?

That realization was my spark. Like Phillips’ storytelling arc, it moved me from pain to purpose. The confusion melted away, and I saw my role clearly. I had given away my power, but I could take it back. The road to freedom wasn’t easy—some friendships were lost, others rebuilt with effort. But today, I stand stronger. I see red flags, feel when my boundaries are tested, and know the difference between growth and manipulation. Best of all, I’m with a partner who sees me, values my openness, and loves me as I am—no molds, no scripts. So think for a moment: who or what has helped you rediscover your true self?

Looking back, I understand: no one’s power goes beyond what you surrender. For years, I handed mine away—in relationships, jobs, circumstances. But breaking those shackles set me free to grow, to shine. I’m free to live authentically, as I’m meant to be.

If you’re caught in a similar web, I wish you the courage to break free. You are enough, exactly as you are. Your story, your dreams, deserve to be lived.

💬 What’s a pattern you’ve broken that set you free? Share your story below and let’s inspire each other!

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After reading this. How does it affect you? How would you recommend to classify this in my story index.

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