A friend recently asked how someone like me—educated, capable, financially independent—could end up in such a situation. What they didn’t see was how narcissists target the strong, and the empathic. I wasn’t weak; I was worn down by someone who saw my strength as a challenge to conquer.
I was trapped in a marriage with a covert narcissist—a relationship that didn’t begin with abuse, but with charm, control, and manipulation so subtle, it eroded my reality over time.
How It All Began
It started when I was an engineering student—outgoing and surrounded mostly by male peers. My husband, then just a boyfriend, seemed overly possessive, which I mistook for affection. Slowly, my world shrank. After marriage, especially when I became pregnant, his affection vanished. I worked through pregnancy and after childbirth, while he remained jobless because he thought he wasn’t made to work under anyone.
To him, I was a project—to be controlled, manipulated, and threatened. Every fist through the wall wasn’t just rage; it was a warning. I found myself thinking, I need to get off this rollercoaster before it breaks me. That’s when the truth hit me hardest: I had always been alone. That’s the trap of narcissistic abuse—it keeps you emotionally bound.
The Quiet Exit
Leaving wasn’t the end—it was another beginning. It took me 15 long years to finally muster the courage to walk out. Dealing with a narcissistic opponent in a court case is always emotionally taxing. Staying calm and collected came naturally to me, so I survived the storm. The rebuilding that followed was challenging. But I held onto my truth, even when no one else could see it. Today, I’m healing and rebuilding. It’s painful, but it’s mine.
To anyone in a similar storm: you are not weak, and you are not alone. Trust your instincts, hold your truth, and take that one brave step toward freedom. You are stronger than you know.
