If anyone has the right to call her ex a covert narcissist, it’s me. While on the surface, he was a giving and caring man everyone loved, the man behind the curtain was another story entirely. He crafted false financial documents and insurance forms to support his lies as he bled our accounts dry. He wooed women, eventually wedding one without attending to the detail of obtaining a divorce from me first. He neglected the requirements of the criminal court system, earning a felony warrant. Even the judge in the divorce case asked my ex’s attorney if his client was “psycho.”
And maybe he is. Not a psycho necessarily, but a narcissist.
But, despite all of the evidence, I intentionally choose to not label my ex as a narcissist.
It seems like “narcissist ex” is the gluten-free of the relationship world – all of a sudden, it’s everywhere. But is it really that pervasive or are we just using the label too recklessly?
Just over 6% of the population has Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) based upon the criteria set forth in the DSM-5: seeking approval from others, viewing oneself as exceptional, blaming setbacks on others, inability to identify with others’ needs and/or feelings and superficial relationships based upon manipulation.
Even though my former husband’s actions seem to check every box, I am bucking the “my ex is a narcissist” trend. Here’s why:
If He’s the “Attacker,” Then I’m the Victim
This was certainly my mindset early on – I viewed him as some Machiavellian perpetrator, deviously plotting ways to hurt me from his basement lair, cleverly disguised as an innocent office. In some ways, it was a comforting mindset as it pardoned me from any culpability. But it was also limiting.
Because if I was a victim, I was powerless.
In order to claim responsibility for my own well-being and create a sense of possibility for the future, I disarmed his memory. He’s no longer my attacker; he’s just the man I used to love who traveled down a dark path.
Preservation of Memory
By the time he sent the text that ended the marriage, my ex and I had spent sixteen years together. It was a lot to lose. If I accepted the proposal offered forth by many who dealt with him in the months to come that he was, in fact, a narcissist, it essentially would discount the thousands of positive memories I had of our time together.
From what I knew, we did have a good marriage with so many happy memories. I decided that those moments were real enough to me at the time and I chose to allow them to remain (as much as possible) unsullied by the idea that they were all orchestrated for some great plot.
It Ignores the Unknowns
Even the DSM-5 offers the disclaimer that a personality disorder cannot be diagnosed in the presence of addiction or physical illness, as both can mimic the mental condition. My ex admitted to a drinking problem after he left and he was suffering from some pretty substantial medical complaints for the last year or so of the marriage.
It is impossible for anyone, especially a layperson, to diagnose someone with a personality disorder without all of the information (much less the presence of the actual individual in question). Just because a person exhibits certain behaviors does mean that they automatically deserve a diagnosis.
We Are All More Than a Label
Calling someone a narcissist is reductionistic; it distills them down into a list of traits and ignores the complete person. Yes, my ex-husband lied, cheated and stole. But he also showed me (and others) great kindness and tenderness. He was the man that cried at our wedding and nursed our dogs back to health.
By not assigning him a label, I am able to remember the whole man – from loving husband to cruel persecutor and everything in between.
Peace is More Important Than a Reason
In the beginning, I struggled to understand why my husband acted that way and how he could be so cold and calculating. I assumed that once I had a reason, I would be able to move on. I tested out many possible labels (narcissist among them), but none managed to make the pain okay.
Finally, I decided to view him as lost. Hurting. Desperate and in pain. And with that shift, I found compassion, which led to being able to release the anger that held me back. So rather than see him as the evil antagonist in some twisted plot, I try to see him as human. Imperfect rather than malevolent. Not for his benefit, but for mine.
Labels, such as narcissist, have their place in public discourse. They help to provide a framework for understanding and a shared language to discuss important issues. It’s shorthand for a list of common experiences and emotions. I know when I read posts from people that use the term “narcissistic ex,” I will relate to stories of manipulation, gas lighting and projection. I can expect to see similarities between their stories and mine. In fact, I found books about narcissists and sociopaths helpful during the healing journey to provide information and perspective that helped me make sense of my own situation.
Labels are like Cliff Notes. We use them as shortcuts as we develop our own understanding or to help someone else develop theirs. Just like Cliff Notes, they are not the entire story, full of detail and nuance. If we stop at labels, we are limiting ourselves and others. We may be blinded by assumptions as we fill in the gaps in our knowledge automatically.
So your ex may be a narcissist, but that’s not the entire story. Don’t let the label limit you; it’s just the beginning.
17 thoughts on “Why I Refuse to Call My Ex Husband a Covert Narcissist”
Reblogged this on My New Life.
Wowzers. I thought I was bad.
This is pretty great, but you’re missing the most important reason to not use the label. Unless I’m mistaken (totally possible), you’re not a mental health professional, nor is the DSM a book meant to be read/used by us lay-folk. A friend of mine always uses the phrase “some people are educated beyond their intelligence”. I think that applies here. It looks like a dictionary, and maybe reads like one, but the subject matter is grave enough that there is a special gateway (degrees/professional training/demonstrated ability) in order to know how to use it. And even then, if the US Government didn’t make lasting financial and legal decisions based on its profound labels, the DSM might get lost in the shuffle.
Very true. I guess I see that part as self-evident:) I am not a mental health professional, although I was raised by one. And that’s as close as I want to get!
Again, Lisa, I applaud you for rising above…..a very difficult task at best.
This is all very nice, and touchy-feely – but misguided. Feeling sorry for your abuser is exactly what your abuser wants. It results in an imprisoned life – in my case 35 years. It is not good advice to feel sorry for someone who ultimately doesn’t give a damn about you.
In my case, feeling compassion for him (different than feeling sorry for him) released me from the anger and victim mindset.
I get it, I really do. But for someone who is still trapped in an abusive relationship, this is a dangerous path to continue to walk down. Once free of the relationship, sure, go for it – but while still in, all that it does is to prolong the agony. I know that my ex has serious emotional problems that he continually took out on me, and I let him – because of compassion.
I also have a problem with the term victim suddenly becoming a four letter word. Any of us who have gone through this situation have been victimized – that’s just the reality of it. It’s so okay to feel like an injustice was done – because it was. It’s not as simple as all of this “Just move on, just move on!” Eventually people heal – but ti has to be on their own timeline – not everyone else’s.
I absolutely agree that every individual needs to do what works for them.
Reblogged this on Crazy Love Cycle.
My husband shows all the classic signs of NPD. I came across an exchange he had with his best friend on a Facebook post. Since we’ve separated, he seems to be blaming our financial trouble during our 11 years together as my fault. He went so far as to say I was manipulative and controlled his thoughts. Meanwhile, for the past 11 years, I’ve been told I was worthless, good for nothing, lazy, a bitch and made to believe I was difficult to live with. He has told other people this over the years. Unfortunately, due to my depression and anxiety, people believed him. It’s easy to believe that I was lazy when I slept most of the day, even though it was a symptom of depression. As time went on my anxiety became an issue in regards to working. It cost me quite a few jobs. All of the things he said about me were manifested through my mental illness. Looking back, there was a lot of gaslighting and manipulation from him. He used subtle tactics to control me. Once he realized that I couldn’t be controlled anymore, he decided to divorce me. Then, his campaign to make me seem like an unfit mother began. Once again, he used my mental health against me. But I’m fighting back. I refuse to let him have control over me. He is a narcissist and I refuse to be his victim anymore.
The past is gone
Thank you for finally putting words to what I have come to think. That word has lost its true meaning (sadly for those who are clinically diagnosed.) I also refuse to label him. He just is who he is.
“Is who he is.” This.
So, if you suspected your ex fit the diagnosis but choose not to label, would you use the recommended no contact/gray rock response if he showed up months/years later with what you suspect is a manipulative testing email (or, hoover) claiming to love you and need help? What if he claimed he wanted to kill himself? Or would you reach out and respond normally?
I would respond based on the situation. If someone is threatening suicide in an attempt to manipulate, they are not presenting “normally,” so it it doesn’t suggest a “normal” response. Boundaries and protecting yourself always makes sense.
I think labels can be helpful in giving us strategies in how to respond in situations like these. I think they can also limit if we don’t allow for flexibility and/or adaptation if the situation changes.
In my situation, I think substance abuse had a lot to do with my ex’s lies and decisions. If (and I hope this never happens!), he reached out and was sober, there may be the potential for an actual conversation. That being said, I would always be on high alert with him because I know of his history of deception.