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You will Keep Attracting Narcissistic Partners until you do THIS

You will Keep Attracting Narcissistic Partners until you do THIS

Irina Zhuravleva
by 
Irina Zhuravleva, 
 Soulmatcher
14 minutes read
Blog
05 November, 2025

My fear of being left in the future led me to abandon my own needs in the here and now. I constantly put everyone else first because I didn’t even know what I was allowed to ask for. That pattern became a prophecy I helped create. Without defining what was acceptable, I kept feeling exploited. Without holding others accountable for hurting me, I carried resentment and misery in my relationship. I felt trapped and hopeless. The reality is that anyone can fall into a relationship with someone narcissistic. At first everything can seem fine—there’s a spark, kindness, attention—but slowly things shift. Your feelings and needs begin to be minimized. Whenever you bring something up, they act as if they’re being attacked: Why do we need to discuss that? Why are you ruining the day? Then they turn it around and accuse you of hurting them, which is bewildering because you were the one trying to repair and take responsibility. You sought reconciliation while becoming the target of blame for all the problems. It’s possible for anyone to end up in such a partnership, but it’s not inevitable that everyone will stay—and please understand this is not about blaming victims. There’s no judgement for anyone who finds themselves there; those dynamics are confusing and painful. This conversation isn’t meant to shame; it’s about protecting yourself, reclaiming agency, learning to advocate for your needs, establishing healthy boundaries, trusting your instincts, and remembering you deserve more than the bare minimum. It’s about offering yourself compassion while still examining how you became entangled in those patterns. Saying that not everyone stays in a narcissistic relationship does not imply they deserved the mistreatment—no one ever deserves emotional, physical, or psychological abuse. Yet it matters to talk about this because many people reach out with the same concern: “I left a narcissistic relationship, then dated someone new and now worry this person is more narcissistic than I realized—what do I do?” Some might think the word “narcissist” is used too casually these days—everyone gets labeled that by someone. There’s truth to the overuse, and this isn’t about labeling anyone. The point is that people can be drawn to self-centered partners without realizing it, and that observation is supported by psychology. Harville Hendrix, in Getting the Love You Want, describes a striking idea: we sometimes recreate relationship dynamics similar to those we had with our parents because, on an unconscious level, we hope to heal past wounds by fixing the present. Oddly, a dysfunctional pattern can feel safer because it’s familiar. Whether or not you agree with that theory, many of us recognize the painful loop: repeatedly dating the emotionally unavailable, giving and giving only to attract takers, chasing people who make us work for their attention. Is it coincidence that so many partners are avoidant or self-absorbed? Or could it be wiring and conditioning that steer us toward relationships that aren’t right? To change this, first understand a difficult truth: narcissistic people typically end up in relationships with particular personality types—this is not victim-blaming, it’s an observation from experience. For such a relationship to persist, the partner usually meets certain conditions. What are they? First, they tend to be consistent self-sacrificers, the givers—if both people in a relationship were takers, it wouldn’t last. They are accommodating, kind, forgiving; they hand out second, third, or fourth chances because they hope things will improve. They are willing to listen to and validate the narcissist’s pain—when the narcissist claims they’ve been hurt, you apologize and try to make it right. Yet when you express your hurt, you’re often met with “That’s not my problem,” “That never happened,” or “You’re too sensitive.” The partner who stays must also be loyal; not everyone would tolerate name-calling, false accusations, or repeated devaluation. They must be submissive in the sense that the narcissist monopolizes the role of victim and permits only their own critiques; your complaints are portrayed as attacks. In short, narcissistic people end up with partners who avoid confrontation, fail to set boundaries, and carry low self-esteem—people who doubt themselves and think, “Maybe I’m the problem.” That self-doubt is what narcissists count on. Do they ever self-reflect? Rarely—arrogance and entitlement make introspection uncommon, yet they call you selfish for things they themselves never consider. Those trapped long-term often internalize the blame, thinking perhaps they really are at fault. Part of why this happens is a history of pain: for many, this is not the first time they’ve been emotionally or physically neglected, dismissed, or labeled as “the problem.” That previous conditioning makes it easier to accept hurt and silence your own needs. So here’s a competing voice to the one that tells you you’re unworthy: you deserve the same kindness and respect you give. You are fundamentally worthy of being loved, considered, valued, and cherished—even if you aren’t perfect. You deserve a partner who genuinely listens to your pain rather than spending energy crafting the perfect words to avoid feeling attacked. Repeat that until it registers: you deserve love that never resorts to name-calling, mockery, or belittling. Saying “I love you” does not prove someone knows what love means. Love involves serving and sacrificing for another, being a safe harbor where nobody walks on eggshells or fears being triggered. Love looks like thoughtfulness and consideration. Being a giver isn’t wrong—givers and empaths bring beautiful qualities like a desire to nurture and heal—but narcissistic people are rarely interested in being saved; they don’t want to do the work. They want to use. Staying often stems from fear of loneliness, yet there’s no greater loneliness than living in the wrong relationship. Narcissists rely on a partner who will remain passive and compliant because they believe themselves superior and entitled to treat others however they please. This isn’t meant to induce shame—there’s forgiveness to extend to the self for what was tolerated and for not yet knowing better. This is about empowerment: setting healthy boundaries is actually an act of love. In a healthy relationship, you want to know your partner’s limits and needs, how they feel loved and prioritized—don’t you deserve that too? If love to you means sacrifice, consideration, and service, why accept someone who refuses those things? Often the underlying issue is shame and low self-worth; you might doubt you’re worthy of consideration. That voice is wrong: you are deserving of kindness and respect. You’re not “too much” or “not enough.” Healing is collective; nobody’s perfect, but are you willing to take responsibility when needed? Narcissistic, self-centered people cause the very disconnection they then blame you for feeling. Relationships need trust, equality, consideration, and respect—basic ingredients—which narcissistic partners systematically erode. They repeatedly violate trust, create power imbalances, withhold consideration except during love-bombing episodes, and focus solely on their needs. There’s no room for self-centeredness, pride, or an inability to engage in hard conversations while maintaining respect; that destroys trust and intimacy. So such a relationship can persist only if someone volunteers to carry the emotional load of two people: accepting blame, suppressing their needs, and making the best of a bad situation. That isn’t love—it’s a trauma bond. It’s not your fault you were drawn into it, but it is your responsibility to move toward safety and a mutually fulfilling partnership. That’s possible, but not while tolerating unacceptable behavior. This isn’t about perfection; yes, you’ve made mistakes too, but that doesn’t mean you deserve abuse. Stop rationalizing their behavior or excusing the relationship. If you would never treat them the way they treat you, something is wrong. If it upsets you to imagine your child enduring these same dynamics, that’s a sign. It isn’t about perfect conduct—it’s about intention. Your aim is a safe, connected, equal, considerate relationship; what is theirs? If the vision isn’t mutual, why are concerns met with dismissal, gaslighting, or being labeled “crazy”? Why are your needs ignored while theirs are promptly met? Why do lying, manipulation, control, and refusal to take responsibility occur? Why are they always the victim yet highly critical of you, weaponizing your vulnerabilities and dominating attention while offering little appreciation? At some point honesty is required: that is not partnership. So what’s next? First, stop believing you can change them. Stop handing out unearned second chances. They’re unlikely to change unless they want to—usually they don’t. They don’t want to improve; they just don’t want to lose you. That’s why you see brief, performative changes after conflicts, but the old pattern returns. You’ll keep attracting emotionally unsafe partners until self-centeredness repels you and you can spot power imbalances instantly. A narcissist may bait fights to create evidence against you—deny, deny, deny—then shift to accusing you of mistreating them. Sometimes they’ll even manufacture proof by provoking you into reacting so they can point to your outburst later. While reactive abuse is complex and reactions are ultimately our responsibility, it’s important to acknowledge that their baiting and neglect are wrong. You still own how you respond; it’s crucial to know your triggers and recognize when you’re arguing with someone who doesn’t care to understand. Protecting your heart and energy means noticing when someone is uninterested in your perspective and choosing not to engage. People influence us deeply in intimate relationships, but we also have agency. So what actually helps? Boundaries. Yes, many will say “you can’t set boundaries with a narcissist—they’ll ignore them.” But if nothing works—talking, yelling, kindness—then you feel utterly powerless, which can become an excuse for staying stuck. It’s easier to declare boundaries futile than to face feeling helpless and scared about making necessary changes, like being vulnerable, holding standards, and creating distance from those who dismiss you. Instead of endlessly researching narcissism or trauma and attempting to tailor communication to avoid triggering someone, the crucial question is not whether they have a diagnosis but whether their behavior is acceptable and compatible with a healthy relationship. If not, stop trying to change them. Rather than asking “Are they just avoidant?” ask: If they never change, could I still thrive in this relationship? Both partners should shift some for the relationship’s good, but many narcissists make it clear they don’t see themselves as the problem. The solution is not to outwit or reverse-psychologize them into being better; it may be to say, aloud—even if only to yourself—this relationship does not work for me. Yes, boundaries can be enforced even with a narcissist; one of the clearest is no contact. You don’t need their consent for that boundary. For dangerous or abusive people, removal and safety are the boundary—you don’t have to negotiate with someone who continues to yell or call you names. None of this is easy: lives are intertwined, and leaving feels excruciating. Advising someone to end a toxic relationship can feel like asking someone to hold their breath underwater—possible in theory, but terrifying in practice. It will hurt. It will be hard. But consider why they aren’t seeking solutions themselves. Why haven’t they read a book, sought help, or watched videos—unless it takes losing you? If they only change when threatened with losing the relationship, their motive is fear of loss, not genuine growth. Sometimes change and therapy do lead to lasting improvement; other times people do the work briefly because they don’t want to lose something good and then revert. That doesn’t always make them a villain; it may simply mean they aren’t the right partner for you. Finding the right relationship requires being willing to walk away from the wrong ones. How will you know if a relationship is right? You won’t be perpetually confused or feel like you must earn love; you won’t walk on eggshells or be constantly shamed. That’s not love. Return to the basics: what do you need to feel valued, loved, and prioritized? If you can’t answer because a lifetime of overfunctioning has made you lose sight of your own needs, that’s a sign you were conditioned to be taken advantage of. Start reclaiming yourself: heal from your trauma, break trauma bonds, learn your needs, and set boundaries. Move from extreme selflessness toward the middle. Often we don’t just give too much—we see ourselves as less, riddled with shame, feeling “too much” or “not enough,” craving to be chosen. Wearing a mask to be liked can last decades until you forget who you are. Rediscover yourself. It’s okay you won’t be for everyone; that’s a benefit. You’re not searching for masks—you’re searching for the right people. Define what you want in a partner: not perfection, but kindness, warmth, consideration, and respect. What does that look like to you? What person do you want to become—someone who can show up authentically, be honest, vulnerable, and discuss needs, dreams, and hurts without shame? Learn to trust your instincts—your gut likely knew this person was unsafe long before you left, but fear kept you staying. Work with a therapist to understand why leaving feels so difficult; you’re not broken or damaged—you’re human, shaped by hard childhood experiences that can normalize chaos. The nervous system can become accustomed to dysfunction and mistakenly seek it out because it recognizes the pattern: love must be earned; their needs come first. Rewiring that system is possible but initially uncomfortable. Clarify the essentials for a healthy relationship—this is not mere opinion; relationship research points to consistent trust, equality, consideration, and respect. If you’ve been labeled “needy,” consider whether you were simply asking for basic care: the minimum of thoughtfulness, the ability to have a conversation without it exploding, some accountability, consistency, and transparency to maintain trust and connection. If you were met with “you’re too needy,” you were probably not asking for too much. Healing also involves learning to access anger constructively. So far anger may have been expressed through passive aggression, eye rolls, hints, or escalating fights. That cycle needs to stop. Get clear on what you deserve and what you need, and let your anger motivate safety and boundaries rather than reactive behaviors. Imagine what you’d tell a best friend treated like this: you wouldn’t advise them to spend their energy diagnosing their partner or forcing them to change—you would say they don’t deserve that. If it feels uncomfortable to state what you deserve, start by listing non-negotiables for a healthy relationship. Write down the essentials: is your current relationship aligned with those? Have they demonstrated a willingness to change and move toward safety and respect? If the answer is no, then the choice falls to you. Shift focus from their shortcomings to your reasons for staying. Often it’s fear—fear of abandonment or being alone. Recognize that every time they broke trust, they effectively abandoned you already. Confront the fear of solitude by leaning on friends, family, and community or by building that support if it’s missing—toxicity often isolates. Stop attracting narcissistic people by becoming clear about the life you want and refusing to bend entirely to someone else’s world. If your sense of worth depends on being chosen by a partner, that sets you up to accept too little. Validation must come from within. Develop a strong internal compass so discernment replaces desperation. This isn’t about building impenetrable walls; it’s about cultivating healthy interdependence and confidently assessing the direction of a relationship. Yes, acknowledging things aren’t heading the right way hurts, but from a grounded place you can redirect toward health even if the other person won’t join you. That capacity is what ultimately changes your relationship prospects. Keep going—be gentle with yourself, give grace and forgiveness, and hold yourself accountable. The next chapter is possible.

My fear of being left in the future led me to abandon my own needs in the here and now. I constantly put everyone else first because I didn't even know what I was allowed to ask for. That pattern became a prophecy I helped create. Without defining what was acceptable, I kept feeling exploited. Without holding others accountable for hurting me, I carried resentment and misery in my relationship. I felt trapped and hopeless. The reality is that anyone can fall into a relationship with someone narcissistic. At first everything can seem fine—there's a spark, kindness, attention—but slowly things shift. Your feelings and needs begin to be minimized. Whenever you bring something up, they act as if they're being attacked: Why do we need to discuss that? Why are you ruining the day? Then they turn it around and accuse you of hurting them, which is bewildering because you were the one trying to repair and take responsibility. You sought reconciliation while becoming the target of blame for all the problems. It’s possible for anyone to end up in such a partnership, but it’s not inevitable that everyone will stay—and please understand this is not about blaming victims. There’s no judgement for anyone who finds themselves there; those dynamics are confusing and painful. This conversation isn’t meant to shame; it’s about protecting yourself, reclaiming agency, learning to advocate for your needs, establishing healthy boundaries, trusting your instincts, and remembering you deserve more than the bare minimum. It’s about offering yourself compassion while still examining how you became entangled in those patterns. Saying that not everyone stays in a narcissistic relationship does not imply they deserved the mistreatment—no one ever deserves emotional, physical, or psychological abuse. Yet it matters to talk about this because many people reach out with the same concern: “I left a narcissistic relationship, then dated someone new and now worry this person is more narcissistic than I realized—what do I do?” Some might think the word “narcissist” is used too casually these days—everyone gets labeled that by someone. There’s truth to the overuse, and this isn’t about labeling anyone. The point is that people can be drawn to self-centered partners without realizing it, and that observation is supported by psychology. Harville Hendrix, in Getting the Love You Want, describes a striking idea: we sometimes recreate relationship dynamics similar to those we had with our parents because, on an unconscious level, we hope to heal past wounds by fixing the present. Oddly, a dysfunctional pattern can feel safer because it’s familiar. Whether or not you agree with that theory, many of us recognize the painful loop: repeatedly dating the emotionally unavailable, giving and giving only to attract takers, chasing people who make us work for their attention. Is it coincidence that so many partners are avoidant or self-absorbed? Or could it be wiring and conditioning that steer us toward relationships that aren’t right? To change this, first understand a difficult truth: narcissistic people typically end up in relationships with particular personality types—this is not victim-blaming, it’s an observation from experience. For such a relationship to persist, the partner usually meets certain conditions. What are they? First, they tend to be consistent self-sacrificers, the givers—if both people in a relationship were takers, it wouldn’t last. They are accommodating, kind, forgiving; they hand out second, third, or fourth chances because they hope things will improve. They are willing to listen to and validate the narcissist’s pain—when the narcissist claims they’ve been hurt, you apologize and try to make it right. Yet when you express your hurt, you’re often met with “That’s not my problem,” “That never happened,” or “You’re too sensitive.” The partner who stays must also be loyal; not everyone would tolerate name-calling, false accusations, or repeated devaluation. They must be submissive in the sense that the narcissist monopolizes the role of victim and permits only their own critiques; your complaints are portrayed as attacks. In short, narcissistic people end up with partners who avoid confrontation, fail to set boundaries, and carry low self-esteem—people who doubt themselves and think, “Maybe I’m the problem.” That self-doubt is what narcissists count on. Do they ever self-reflect? Rarely—arrogance and entitlement make introspection uncommon, yet they call you selfish for things they themselves never consider. Those trapped long-term often internalize the blame, thinking perhaps they really are at fault. Part of why this happens is a history of pain: for many, this is not the first time they’ve been emotionally or physically neglected, dismissed, or labeled as “the problem.” That previous conditioning makes it easier to accept hurt and silence your own needs. So here’s a competing voice to the one that tells you you’re unworthy: you deserve the same kindness and respect you give. You are fundamentally worthy of being loved, considered, valued, and cherished—even if you aren’t perfect. You deserve a partner who genuinely listens to your pain rather than spending energy crafting the perfect words to avoid feeling attacked. Repeat that until it registers: you deserve love that never resorts to name-calling, mockery, or belittling. Saying “I love you” does not prove someone knows what love means. Love involves serving and sacrificing for another, being a safe harbor where nobody walks on eggshells or fears being triggered. Love looks like thoughtfulness and consideration. Being a giver isn’t wrong—givers and empaths bring beautiful qualities like a desire to nurture and heal—but narcissistic people are rarely interested in being saved; they don’t want to do the work. They want to use. Staying often stems from fear of loneliness, yet there’s no greater loneliness than living in the wrong relationship. Narcissists rely on a partner who will remain passive and compliant because they believe themselves superior and entitled to treat others however they please. This isn’t meant to induce shame—there’s forgiveness to extend to the self for what was tolerated and for not yet knowing better. This is about empowerment: setting healthy boundaries is actually an act of love. In a healthy relationship, you want to know your partner’s limits and needs, how they feel loved and prioritized—don’t you deserve that too? If love to you means sacrifice, consideration, and service, why accept someone who refuses those things? Often the underlying issue is shame and low self-worth; you might doubt you’re worthy of consideration. That voice is wrong: you are deserving of kindness and respect. You’re not “too much” or “not enough.” Healing is collective; nobody’s perfect, but are you willing to take responsibility when needed? Narcissistic, self-centered people cause the very disconnection they then blame you for feeling. Relationships need trust, equality, consideration, and respect—basic ingredients—which narcissistic partners systematically erode. They repeatedly violate trust, create power imbalances, withhold consideration except during love-bombing episodes, and focus solely on their needs. There’s no room for self-centeredness, pride, or an inability to engage in hard conversations while maintaining respect; that destroys trust and intimacy. So such a relationship can persist only if someone volunteers to carry the emotional load of two people: accepting blame, suppressing their needs, and making the best of a bad situation. That isn’t love—it’s a trauma bond. It’s not your fault you were drawn into it, but it is your responsibility to move toward safety and a mutually fulfilling partnership. That’s possible, but not while tolerating unacceptable behavior. This isn’t about perfection; yes, you’ve made mistakes too, but that doesn’t mean you deserve abuse. Stop rationalizing their behavior or excusing the relationship. If you would never treat them the way they treat you, something is wrong. If it upsets you to imagine your child enduring these same dynamics, that’s a sign. It isn’t about perfect conduct—it's about intention. Your aim is a safe, connected, equal, considerate relationship; what is theirs? If the vision isn’t mutual, why are concerns met with dismissal, gaslighting, or being labeled “crazy”? Why are your needs ignored while theirs are promptly met? Why do lying, manipulation, control, and refusal to take responsibility occur? Why are they always the victim yet highly critical of you, weaponizing your vulnerabilities and dominating attention while offering little appreciation? At some point honesty is required: that is not partnership. So what’s next? First, stop believing you can change them. Stop handing out unearned second chances. They’re unlikely to change unless they want to—usually they don’t. They don’t want to improve; they just don’t want to lose you. That’s why you see brief, performative changes after conflicts, but the old pattern returns. You’ll keep attracting emotionally unsafe partners until self-centeredness repels you and you can spot power imbalances instantly. A narcissist may bait fights to create evidence against you—deny, deny, deny—then shift to accusing you of mistreating them. Sometimes they’ll even manufacture proof by provoking you into reacting so they can point to your outburst later. While reactive abuse is complex and reactions are ultimately our responsibility, it’s important to acknowledge that their baiting and neglect are wrong. You still own how you respond; it’s crucial to know your triggers and recognize when you’re arguing with someone who doesn’t care to understand. Protecting your heart and energy means noticing when someone is uninterested in your perspective and choosing not to engage. People influence us deeply in intimate relationships, but we also have agency. So what actually helps? Boundaries. Yes, many will say “you can’t set boundaries with a narcissist—they’ll ignore them.” But if nothing works—talking, yelling, kindness—then you feel utterly powerless, which can become an excuse for staying stuck. It’s easier to declare boundaries futile than to face feeling helpless and scared about making necessary changes, like being vulnerable, holding standards, and creating distance from those who dismiss you. Instead of endlessly researching narcissism or trauma and attempting to tailor communication to avoid triggering someone, the crucial question is not whether they have a diagnosis but whether their behavior is acceptable and compatible with a healthy relationship. If not, stop trying to change them. Rather than asking “Are they just avoidant?” ask: If they never change, could I still thrive in this relationship? Both partners should shift some for the relationship’s good, but many narcissists make it clear they don’t see themselves as the problem. The solution is not to outwit or reverse-psychologize them into being better; it may be to say, aloud—even if only to yourself—this relationship does not work for me. Yes, boundaries can be enforced even with a narcissist; one of the clearest is no contact. You don’t need their consent for that boundary. For dangerous or abusive people, removal and safety are the boundary—you don’t have to negotiate with someone who continues to yell or call you names. None of this is easy: lives are intertwined, and leaving feels excruciating. Advising someone to end a toxic relationship can feel like asking someone to hold their breath underwater—possible in theory, but terrifying in practice. It will hurt. It will be hard. But consider why they aren’t seeking solutions themselves. Why haven’t they read a book, sought help, or watched videos—unless it takes losing you? If they only change when threatened with losing the relationship, their motive is fear of loss, not genuine growth. Sometimes change and therapy do lead to lasting improvement; other times people do the work briefly because they don’t want to lose something good and then revert. That doesn’t always make them a villain; it may simply mean they aren’t the right partner for you. Finding the right relationship requires being willing to walk away from the wrong ones. How will you know if a relationship is right? You won’t be perpetually confused or feel like you must earn love; you won’t walk on eggshells or be constantly shamed. That’s not love. Return to the basics: what do you need to feel valued, loved, and prioritized? If you can’t answer because a lifetime of overfunctioning has made you lose sight of your own needs, that’s a sign you were conditioned to be taken advantage of. Start reclaiming yourself: heal from your trauma, break trauma bonds, learn your needs, and set boundaries. Move from extreme selflessness toward the middle. Often we don’t just give too much—we see ourselves as less, riddled with shame, feeling “too much” or “not enough,” craving to be chosen. Wearing a mask to be liked can last decades until you forget who you are. Rediscover yourself. It’s okay you won’t be for everyone; that’s a benefit. You’re not searching for masks—you’re searching for the right people. Define what you want in a partner: not perfection, but kindness, warmth, consideration, and respect. What does that look like to you? What person do you want to become—someone who can show up authentically, be honest, vulnerable, and discuss needs, dreams, and hurts without shame? Learn to trust your instincts—your gut likely knew this person was unsafe long before you left, but fear kept you staying. Work with a therapist to understand why leaving feels so difficult; you’re not broken or damaged—you’re human, shaped by hard childhood experiences that can normalize chaos. The nervous system can become accustomed to dysfunction and mistakenly seek it out because it recognizes the pattern: love must be earned; their needs come first. Rewiring that system is possible but initially uncomfortable. Clarify the essentials for a healthy relationship—this is not mere opinion; relationship research points to consistent trust, equality, consideration, and respect. If you’ve been labeled “needy,” consider whether you were simply asking for basic care: the minimum of thoughtfulness, the ability to have a conversation without it exploding, some accountability, consistency, and transparency to maintain trust and connection. If you were met with “you’re too needy,” you were probably not asking for too much. Healing also involves learning to access anger constructively. So far anger may have been expressed through passive aggression, eye rolls, hints, or escalating fights. That cycle needs to stop. Get clear on what you deserve and what you need, and let your anger motivate safety and boundaries rather than reactive behaviors. Imagine what you’d tell a best friend treated like this: you wouldn’t advise them to spend their energy diagnosing their partner or forcing them to change—you would say they don’t deserve that. If it feels uncomfortable to state what you deserve, start by listing non-negotiables for a healthy relationship. Write down the essentials: is your current relationship aligned with those? Have they demonstrated a willingness to change and move toward safety and respect? If the answer is no, then the choice falls to you. Shift focus from their shortcomings to your reasons for staying. Often it’s fear—fear of abandonment or being alone. Recognize that every time they broke trust, they effectively abandoned you already. Confront the fear of solitude by leaning on friends, family, and community or by building that support if it’s missing—toxicity often isolates. Stop attracting narcissistic people by becoming clear about the life you want and refusing to bend entirely to someone else’s world. If your sense of worth depends on being chosen by a partner, that sets you up to accept too little. Validation must come from within. Develop a strong internal compass so discernment replaces desperation. This isn’t about building impenetrable walls; it’s about cultivating healthy interdependence and confidently assessing the direction of a relationship. Yes, acknowledging things aren’t heading the right way hurts, but from a grounded place you can redirect toward health even if the other person won’t join you. That capacity is what ultimately changes your relationship prospects. Keep going—be gentle with yourself, give grace and forgiveness, and hold yourself accountable. The next chapter is possible.

What do you think?