You Weren’t Discarded—They Ran: A Therapist’s Take on Narcissistic Relationships

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The Discomfort Behind the Delusion

Let’s get this out of the way: you weren’t discarded like leftovers from last night’s takeout. What happened wasn’t rejection. It wasn’t because you weren’t "enough" or didn't perform your emotional Cirque du Soleil routine to their liking.

They didn’t discard you. They ran.

And not because you were too little—but because you were way, way too real.

The Myth of “Discard” (aka, You Are Not Curbside Trash)

The term “discard” gets thrown around a lot in pop-psych circles. It paints a picture of someone calmly surveying your value, shrugging, and tossing you aside like a broken blender. I would like to share a different perspective as a therapist who's worked with hundreds of clients navigating these dynamics:

Most narcissists don’t discard—they bolt.

Not because they have superior insight or emotional power. Not because you do not meet their standards. Not because you are not worthy of love. But because the minute you stop co-signing their self delusion, their whole psychological scaffolding starts to crumble—and that is terrifying to someone who has spent a lifetime avoiding their core wound.

The Moment You Stopped Performing (and Started Reflecting)

At first, things may have felt intoxicating. You were admired, idealized, love bombed, maybe even put on a pedestal you never asked to climb. But slowly, something shifted.

You started asking questions.
You asked for accountability.
You said “that hurt me,” or “I need clarity,” or “this doesn’t feel respectful”, “that crosses a boundary with me.”

You did the one thing that narcissistic defense structures cannot tolerate:

You became emotionally honest.

And in doing so, you turned into a mirror that was a little too clear.

Narcissists are comfortable with distorted mirrors—like circus mirrors, the kind that make them look ten feet tall and flawless. But you? As their mask slipped, you showed up with a crisp, clean pane of reality. You did this by asking them to be honest, respectful, supportive, responsible. And suddenly, they were face-to-face with all the parts of themselves they’ve been trying to outrun since childhood.

What’s Underneath That Mask? Shame—Lots of It

Here's the clinical truth: narcissism isn’t just grandiosity. It’s a house of cards built on a lack of identity cohesion. It is a well rehearsed mask used to conceal profound shame, fragility, and self loathing.

Their confidence? Performed.
Their charisma? Curated.
Their self-importance? Armor.
Their intellect? Parroted.

Imagine trying to carry a tray filled with glasses of shame, anger, fear, and inadequacy—while smiling and saying, “Look how amazing I am!” It’s exhausting. And unstable.

Then you come along with the audacity to say, “Hey, something seems off here.” Or, “I have needs that are not being met.”

Cue the crash.

You Didn’t Cause the Shame—You Triggered It

You didn’t overreact.
You didn’t ask for too much.
You didn’t “make them” run.
You are not “too needy/controlling/bitchy”

You simply poked the pressure valve holding back decades of unprocessed emotional material. Think of it like trying to hold on to the tail of a kite in a hurricane—eventually, it’s going to snap and fly away.

And when it does, it’s not graceful.
It’s not mature.

It’s usually a mix of projection, rage, stonewalling, smear campaigns, and ghosting. Not because they’re calculating villains, and not because your “picker” is broken. Instead they bolt because they are a profoundly emotionally unequipped person who does not now how to recognize their triggers and regulate that kind of internal chaos.

The Discomfort Behind the Delusion

Let’s talk about cognitive dissonance. This is the psychological stress that happens when a person holds two conflicting beliefs or perceptions at the same time. For narcissists, this inner conflict runs deep—though most of the time, they’re not consciously aware of it. Deep down, there’s often a fractured awareness that the person they pretend to be and the person they truly are don’t line up. This internal tension is unbearable, so they work overtime to silence it.

They rewrite history, shift blame, deny wrongdoing, outright lie, and surround themselves with people who reinforce their false narrative. Those people are often the enmeshed mothers or fathers who enable the narcissist, or partners/spouses who are trauma bonded and afraid to leave or speak up, or employees who are too bullied and intimidated to say anything, or it is a transactional relationship controlled by money.

Facing the truth—that they caused harm, that they are not who they pretend to be, that ownership, an apology, and changed behaviors must happen—would crack the entire structure. So instead, they double down on the delusion. Their dissonance fuels the projection, the rage (and rage has many forms), and the retreat. It’s not that they’re unaware—it's that awareness threatens their entire identity.

They may boast that they have exceptional boundaries, respect others, don’t have conflict with friends or family members, rarely make a mistake, and thus, never need to extend a true apology. These folks focus on predicting and controlling outcomes, love positions of authority, or to be known as the expert. They scoff at conventionality, and they run from relationships and friendships that require depth, sacrifice, authenticity, and vulnerability.

On one hand, the narcissist wants to believe they’re good, admired, superior, moral, and sometimes even victimized. On the other hand, they’re often behaving in ways that are self delusional, harmful, manipulative, dishonest, or cruel.

Their dissonance sounds like this (internally):

“I am a very good person who people like and respect. But…I just mistreated and ghosted someone who loves me and has been supportive of me.”

”I am always honest and people trust me. But…I embellish the truth or lie so people won’t think poorly of me, or to avoid consequences.”

”Everyone thinks I am sweet and kind. But…I punish people who upset me by using silence as violence.”

”I am a compassionate person. But…I rage quitetly if someone sets a boundary with me. “

”I am intelligent and accomplished. But…I withdraw if someone shares they have been hurt by me.”

“I am a supportive and accepting person. But…I refuse to join in the fun, attend the costume party, or stand up for a cause.”

”I am generous to a fault. But…I use money to control people.”

This creates unbearable internal discomfort. Instead of owning and exploring the contradiction, a narcissist will do what they’ve always done—deflect, deny, blame, or twist the narrative—to protect their fragile sense of self. That might look like rewriting history (“You were always too emotional”), demonizing the person who held them accountable (“How dare you reflect that to me”), or clinging to a new relationship that reflects their preferred image.

In short: the narcissist can’t hold two truths at once—so they attack the one that threatens their ego. And if you happen to be holding that truth? They’ll come for you, not because you’re wrong, but because you’re the mirror of truth they cannot face. If you don’t back down to their bullying or break under their silence, they will bolt. Every time.

Meet the Mirror Replacements: The Search for New Supply

So, what do they do next?

They find a replacement mirror, sometimes called, the new “supply.” Someone whose boundaries are still forming, whose trauma responses include fawning or people-pleasing. Someone who doesn’t see them clearly yet.

This could be replacing you quickly with a new lover, spouse, partner, bestie (or influencing your friends), a new employee, and so forth. When this happens, and it will, please remember: It’s not that you were too much. It’s that you stopped letting them pretend. And they need the “pretend” to survive.

So, off they go—rebuilding their image, recreating their fantasy, starting the dance again with someone else.

Let’s Talk About Your Anger (Yes, That Anger)

If you’ve been in a relationship with a narcissist—romantic, parental, friendship, professional, or otherwise—there’s a good chance that after you’ve been in that realtionship for a while you’ve felt ragey. Like, “I don’t recognize myself anymore” angry.

This is what we call reactive anger—and it’s one of the most misunderstood emotional responses in survivors of narcissistic abuse.

Here’s the deal: when someone is chronically neglectful, abusive, impatient, rude, tosses out digs, uses humor cruelly, or gaslights you, lies to your face, manipulates your reality, is unkind, depends on you to be the bigger person, then blames you when you share your hurts, concerns, or boundaries—eventually you’re going to erupt. That doesn't make you unstable. That makes you human.

Reactive anger is what happens when your nervous system has been pushed past its breaking point. It's your psyche saying: “I’ve tried being calm. I’ve tried explaining. I’ve tried pleasing, accommodating, shrinking myself, sharing my boundaries. And none of it worked.”

So one day, maybe months, years, or even decades later, you snap. It could be something small that triggers the reactive anger: a sneer, an eye roll, a cruel word, an unkind action, a shrug, something muttered under their breath. And that is all it takes. You yell. You throw the phone (okay, maybe just toss onto the bed, but still). You say the thing. And then—boom—you’re painted as the problem.

This is part of the narcissist’s playbook: provoke, provoke, provoke or neglect, neglect, neglect…then point the finger when you finally react. Suddenly, you’re the “angry one.” The “unstable one.” The “toxic one.” “The anxious one.” They may react to your anger eruption with calm observation, or they are shocked into silence, or they are the victim, or they try to “out anger” you, or shame you.

Let me be clear: reactive anger is not the problem. The chronic invalidation, neglect, refusal to acknowledge their unkind words and behaviors, or their lack of insight and willingness to heal and grow - that is the problem.

Your anger is not shameful. It’s a signal. It’s your body’s last-ditch attempt to say, “This is not safe. This is not fair. This is not love. This is not friendship. This is not OK.”

Healing doesn’t mean never getting angry.

Healing means learning to honor that anger, understand where it came from, and then channel it in a way that protects your peace—not performs your pain.

The Narcissist Will Be Back—But It’s Not About You

Let me save you the trouble of decoding that “hey stranger” or “I miss you” text six months from now. Maybe that text is from an ex-spouse, friend, sibling, or parent.

When a narcissist comes back, it’s not because they had a sudden wake up moment, or earth shattering epiphany about your beauty, value, soul, or friendship. They’re circling back to check if your mirror has fogged over. If you’ve forgotten. If you’ll return to the old script.

They aren’t seeking reconnection. They’re hoping for reentry. They miss your support, love, compassion, kindness, encouragement, empathy, generosity and humor. Of course they do, why wouldn’t they miss you?

Just remember, when the text arrives, this is not reconciliation. This is cycle maintenance.

Let’s Talk Narcissist Types—Because Not All Wear the Same Mask

Narcissism is not one-size-fits-all. Here’s a quick breakdown of the usual suspects (I explore several other N types in detail in my blog called, “Narcissists: One Size Does Not Fit All” located here):

1. The Overt Narcissist
Loud, boastful, attention-seeking. Think: “I’m pretending to be the smartest person in the room and if you don’t agree, you’re an idiot.” They’re often charismatic in public, controlling in private. Perhaps a certain politician comes to mind?

2. The Covert Narcissist
Soft-spoken, self-deprecating, the shy one, the people pleaser, often plays the victim, it is never their fault. Their manipulation is subtle: guilt trips, passive aggression, martyrdom, envy, secret competitiveness. You’ll often feel like the villain while they look wounded. They will ghost you the second you share a concern.

3. The Communal Narcissist
These are the "do-gooders" who crave admiration through service. They need you to constantly acknowledge how selfless, spiritual, or enlightened they are—and will retaliate if you don’t validate their virtue. Social media and Facebook groups are filled with these folks. Poke the bear accidentally and you will pay. They are master manipulators and ass kissers who like attention, but will position themselves as the introvert. This is a form of gaslighting, and no, you are not “crazy” when your “spidey sense” is sounding the alarm.

4. The Somatic Narcissist
Focused on appearance, fitness, sex appeal. You’re an accessory to their brand. They crave compliments like an addict craves a drug. Any perceived slight to their attractiveness or desirability will be taken as betrayal. They must be the center of attention, and will not tolerate competition.

5. The Insecure Narcissist
The other side of the somatic narcissist coin are those who scoff at physical fitness, fashion, beauty, or self care. These Ns feel threatened or insecure if they perceive a person to be more attractive and confident, and respond to this trigger by attempting to take that person down a notch or two (or ten). This is done with subtle and not so subtle digs, usually in front of others: “How can you walk in those heels!”, “Don’t you get sick of long hair?”, “You must live at the gym 24/7, I have more important things to do.”, “Must be nice to (fill in the blank).”, “Do you starve yourself to be so thin?”, “Why do you always dress so fancy?” and the list goes on and on. They feel entitled to tear a person down, or to take ideas, steal content, or copy cat. This is a form of delusional control - attempting to emulate the person they envy by copying the parts they covet instead of healing and exploring their own unique gifts and talents. This is often a result of unhealed or unrecognized early trauma. They are usually a child of a narcissistic parent or family member. There may be some self awareness, but very little motivation to heal and grow.

6. The Cerebral Narcissist
Knowledge is their weapon. They like to be perceived as the smartest person in the room. They love to outsmart, lecture, or dominate intellectually. They pride themselves on a large vocabulary, or “clever” quips vs. vulnerability and connection. Relationships with these Ns feel like debate club, or a tedious, long winded, exhausting and energy draining “conversation” where they are constantly trying to prove their worth. If you are a five star chef, they will try to school you about their culinary expertise. If you are an award winning golf pro, they will discuss what you can do to improve. If you are an author, they will share their latest book idea that is far superior. If you are an accomplished musician, they have an idea for a top hit song that is better. These folks rarely express genuine interest and curiosity about your life, your goals, your achievements or your dreams. And if they do ask questions about your life or profession, there is usually an underlying motive at play. They are absolute energy vampires on every level.

No matter the flavor of the N, the core dynamic and playbook is the same: Avoid true self, run from vulnerability, assume the worst in others, calculate, look for weakness, lead with skepticism, maintain fantasy, punish reflection, ghost the truth tellers, outsmart the healers and teachers.

How This Plays Out in Real Life

Let’s get practical. These dynamics aren’t limited to romance:

• Bosses who ice you out after you question their decision-making or set boundaries.

• Parents who become cold or punishing when you challenge family secrets.

• Friends who ghost you when you stop enabling their chaos, or speak truth to unhealthy dynamics.

• Siblings who resent your healing because it threatens their denial.

• Intimate partners or spouses who are emotional or physically abusive or abandoing when you reflect your truth, boundaries, concerns, or needs.

Remember: This isn’t about villainizing them—it’s about validating your lived experience.

If You’re Asking, “Why Wasn’t I Enough?”—Ask a Better Question

Here’s the thing I wish every client could write on their heart: You were not too much. You were the right amount of authenticity.

So if you find yourself asking:

“Why wasn’t I enough?”

Try this instead:

“Why couldn’t they face me?”

That’s the real question.

And the answer?: Because your clarity, authenticity, and kindness were more powerful than their coping mechanisms.

So, does discarding ever happen?

Yes, sometimes a discard does happen. And when it does, it’s not just avoidance—it’s intentional. Cold. Calculated. Devastating. One minute, you're the love of their life, or in their inner circle, their bestie, their confidante, their ride-or-die. The next? You’re blocked, replaced, and erased like you were never even part of their story. It’s emotional whiplash of the highest order. And the cruelty of it can leave you gasping for air, aching to your core, and wondering what the hell just happened.

Several years ago, when I left a narcissistic relationship and partner after many years together, he could not believe it. I had tried to end the relationship several times prior, but had always given in to his love bombing and his manipulating my empathetic nature. However, this break up was it for me. I was done. Period. In the weeks that followed, he begged, he cajoled, he manipulated, he made more empty promises, he hovered, he threatened, he prided himself that he had never cheated on me as if expecting a gold star, and when I would not budge, he gradually accepted…on the surface. Yet, under the surface he seethed. He accepted (on the surface) that we could be friends, and I did my best to be a good and supportive friend. A year later, when I was going through a health challenge, that is when he struck and ran - ending the friendship because he felt I was not there for him, that I wasn’t enough of a good friend. This was on the heels of nursing him back to health several times over our relationship/friendship, as well as helping him through numerous addictions, a life threatening illness, and tens of thousands of dollars toward everything from car maintenance, his rent when he was out of work, pet support, college expenses, and you name it.

But here’s the truth: even this kind of discard is not about your value—it’s about their control. It's a preemptive strike designed to protect their ego. You may have gotten too close to the truth, or too aware of the mask slipping. Your kindness may have triggered a maladaptive coping defense. Your authenticity may have reflected something they are lacking that triggered competitiveness or jealousy. Your truth or sharing concerns left them vulnerable. Or maybe your presence no longer served the role they cast you in—caretaker, admirer, rescuer, mentor, emotional support human. When you stopped feeding the image, when you expressed your own needs, when you shared a concern, when you pushed back against their lack of ownership, you became disposable in their eyes—not because you changed, but because you saw too much.

And here’s where things get deeper. When a discard is deliberately cruel, or public, humiliating, or intentionally timed for maximum impact—we might be crossing into territory that’s not just narcissistic, but sociopathic.

Unlike narcissists, who operate out of deep shame and fragile self-worth, sociopaths (or those with antisocial personality traits) lack empathy altogether. They don’t fear being known—they simply don’t care. They don't need to protect a fractured identity because there's no emotional self to protect. Their manipulation is not rooted in avoidance of shame, but in a fundamental detachment from the emotional consequences of their actions. The discard, in these cases, isn’t a panic response—it’s a power move.

This distinction matters. Because while narcissists often return, hover, or try to reset the cycle, a sociopath may disappear entirely without a second thought—unless circling back benefits them somehow. There’s no guilt, no remorse, no conflict. Just extraction, and exit.

So if you’re sitting in the rubble of a discard that felt intentionally cruel, know this: it wasn’t your fault. You weren’t weak. You weren’t blind. You were targeted—often for your empathy, your loyalty, your light. And while the loss may feel unbearable, what you’ve actually lost is a relationship built on illusion, not mutuality.

You didn’t get left behind because you weren’t good enough. You got out because your soul refused to keep playing a rigged game.

The Impact on Neurodiverse Individuals

Many neurodivergent folks (those with ADHD, autism, sensory processing differences, and more) experience the world in ways that are deeply nuanced, richly textured, and sometimes overwhelming. They may process information differently, communicate more directly or less socially conventionally, or struggle with things like masking, emotional regulation, or executive functioning—not because they’re broken, but because their brains are wired uniquely. Unfortunately, this can make them targets for manipulation, gaslighting, or being labeled as “too sensitive,” “too much,” “too intense,” or “not enough.” Worse, their valid responses to harm, narcissistic abuse, ghosting, or abandonment, can be dismissed as overreactions, or their need for clarity mistaken as control.

And while not all deeply empathetic people are neurodivergent, there is often overlap. Some neurodivergent individuals possess extraordinary empathy—feeling things intensely, sensing unspoken dynamics, or absorbing others’ emotions like a sponge. This deep emotional attunement can be a gift, but in the wrong relational environment, it can also become a vulnerability. Neurodivergence is not a flaw, far from it—it’s a different operating system. And when misunderstood, especially by emotionally unsafe people, it can leave deeply empathic and intelligent humans questioning their own worth, perception, and reality.

So how do you protect yourself? 

You start by trusting your inner data—even if others don’t validate it. Learn to notice the red flags your body picks up on before your brain catches up. Surround yourself with people who don’t make you decode or dilute your truth. Set boundaries early and often—lovingly, clearly, and unapologetically.

If people are committed to misunderstanding you, questioning your empathy, uniqueness, and compassion, or attempt to minimize your intelligence, creativity, or kind nature, or they toss out cruel comments shrouded in “humor”, you have every right to advocate for yourself. Your voice and lived experiences are worth protecting.

Important reminder: Please stop trying to earn space in places that require you to shrink, be less than, translate your good intentions, or apologize for who you are. Your empathy is powerful. Your mind is worthy. Your intellect is beautiful. Your creativity is valuable. And your protection starts with believing that.

What Healing Looks Like (and Spoiler: It’s Not a Glow-Up Selfie)

True healing isn’t just blocking the narc and pretending you're fine. It’s internal. It’s layered. And it includes:

• Grieving the illusion - you weren’t wrong to believe in love or invest in the friendship—it was just misdirected.

• Holding your boundaries - even when your heart still aches.

• Reclaiming your reality - after being gaslit, abandoned or manipulated.

• Choosing relationships where you are seen and valued - where you can be yourself without walking on eggshells or fearful of being abandoned.

• Honoring your energy - you do not need to do all the heavy lifting in your relationships or friendships in order to be loved. You also deserve to have the people you pour into fill your cup as well. No relationship is ever perfectly balanced 50/50. Sometimes you will give more, and sometimes they will. Step away from people who are more than willing to take without giving. You deserve so much more in all of your relationships. Don’t settle for crumbs.

• Reconnecting with your inner truth - your voice, your needs, your truth are important and worth caring for.

• Knowing, naming, and maintaining boundaries - you get to decide how you want to be treated, supported, and valued in all of your personal professional relationships.

And yes—maybe one day, taking that glow-up selfie. Just for you.

Final Words (And a Little Sass, Mari Style)

Gentle reminder:
You were never too broken to love.
You were never too needy.
You weren’t asking for too much—you were just asking the wrong person.

They didn’t discard you.
They ran from the one thing they couldn’t manipulate: your clarity, your truth.

So, when they come knocking again with those same empty eyes, unchanged behavior, lack of growth or insight, and that sad story or apology, or try to rewrite history, remember:

You’re not a mirror for their illusion anymore. You’re the whole damn lighthouse.

And lighthouses don’t chase shipwrecks.

Sending loving energy your way,
Mari