And in the beginning, you probably did try to fix it. You reached out after the argument. You tried to talk like adults. You tried to repair the friendship, salvage the job, and hold together the relationship because that’s who you are. You value peace. You value connection. You believe communication can heal. But the narcissist doesn’t see conflict the way you do. The narcissist uses rejection, ghosting, abandonment, professional sabotage, and strategic coldness, and then waits. They expect that sooner or later, you’ll call in tears, send a long message, or beg for closure. Because for the narcissist, even negative attention is still attention. If you scream, cry, plead, or demand answers, the narcissist feels powerful.
You see, the narcissist tells themselves, “I still control the weather in that heart.” They often don’t want a relationship to truly end; what they want is a permanent throne—a setup where you are always scrambling, reaching, apologizing, and proving. And there’s a deeper reason for this: a lack of object constancy. Healthy minds can hold two truths: “I’m angry with you right now, but I still love you,” or “We’re having a conflict, but you’re still a good person.” The narcissist struggles with that. When you’re not complying, when you’re not feeding the ego, the narcissist flips you to all bad. Your image goes from saint to villain in a moment.
But here’s the irony: because a narcissist can’t self-regulate, they assume you’re just as obsessed. The narcissist projects that emptiness onto you. In their world, you don’t have a rich, full life outside their orbit. You’re just frozen, waiting to press play when the narcissist appears again.
And in this age of social media and endless relationship tips, narcissist tactics are often reinforced: ignore them, and they’ll chase you; pull away, and your value goes up; make them jealous, and you’ll own them. So the narcissist studies you, studies the internet, and studies manipulation like it’s scripture. Human beings become pieces on a chessboard, and the goal is always the same: capture the other person’s autonomy.
But time does something the narcissist can’t manipulate. As years pass, charm wears thin. The glitter fades. That mysterious bad boy act or untouchable, feeble energy that seemed intoxicating in their twenties starts to look tired, forced, even tragic in their forties, fifties, and beyond. When beauty, youth, or social status can’t cover the emptiness anymore, the game becomes harder to play. And when you don’t engage, the game breaks.
The narcissist waits for your text, waits for the late-night call, waits for the long message explaining how hurt you are, but nothing comes. On day one, they’re probably crying. Day three: they’ll crack soon. Week one: this is taking longer than usual. Month one: wait, what is happening? The silence starts to roar. You have unknowingly turned the tables. You’ve rejected the rejection. You’ve stepped out of the role of the desperate one and into the role of acceptance, and that is where your power lives.
continue reading on the next page
Sharing is caring!