"Everyone should worship me. I deserve ONLY the best of the best and I won't accept anything less than that. I am the epitome of narcissism!
She smiled widely, tossing her head back, flicking her beautiful golden locks over her shoulder as she proudly made this statement. Her white teeth glistened as her eyes shifted insecurely to the left.
I smiled and continued to study her. It had been almost a year since our last visit with one another. This would probably be our last as she had truly exhausted our friendship. Not that it was ever a true friendship anyway. It was only ever one-sided. Her side.
I had began a process of weeding out so-called friends a while back. I didn’t tell her this though. It would be a serious blow to her inflated ego and do nothing for me in the meantime. I loathed her egoic stance, but I didn't want to hurt her. I will just slowly slip away from her existence after this final visit, I thought to myself.
I was always perplexed as to why she was proud to admit she was narcissistic. She just didn't get it. This is not a proclamation to revel in. However, I don't think a true narcissist can comprehend this.
Narcissism is very unappealing. Narcissists are said to be in love with themselves. This is a fallacy. They are not actually in love with THEMSELVES. They are in love with their REFLECTION. There is a major difference between one's true self and reflected-self.
I have known a few true narcissists in my lifetime and they have all been the same. On the surface, they exude high self-esteem, but inside, they are very convoluted and confused. Cold and empty. They haven't yet discovered their true self. Therefore, they are unable to truly love themselves. In fact, although they won't admit it, they don't even like what's beneath the surface. They are essentially half-baked, if you will.
I asked her if she knew the true definition of narcissism.
"Of course! It means I’m conceited. It means I KNOW I am beautiful and everyone around me should appreciate my beauty and bow down to me because of it. I am Queen and they should worship me!"
She held her hand to her chest with an exaggerated thrust, pressing her palm onto her soft, white Ann Taylor crewneck tee as she embellished the word, "I."
She said it half-jokingly. I knew what she meant though. Most truths be told in jest is what I always say. I felt sorry for her. She was empirically beautiful in the physical flesh, but what an empty shell this flesh morphed into with her every move, bringing to surface her internal uglies. This ugliness overshadowed her physical beauty. If I saw it, so did others. Oh how I wanted her to realize this, but alas, she was beyond help at this point. Not that she even remotely thought she needed any kind of help anyway.
She absolutely craved the attention and adoration of others to validate her self-worth. Like most narcissists, in the absence of observers, she shriveled to non-existence and felt dead. Little did she know those observers were only placating her egoic needs. Fleeting adoration - that’s all it ever was. Always short-lived, causing her to feel empty again. But she never understood why…hence her constant pursuit of admirers to fill this void. It was a vicious cycle. She was constantly abandoned by those who, in time, saw her true colors.
When this disruption and separation from others would occur - outwardly, to her, it was always their loss...inside, she writhed in pain and became desolate.
She smiled widely, tossing her head back, flicking her beautiful golden locks over her shoulder as she proudly made this statement. Her white teeth glistened as her eyes shifted insecurely to the left.
I smiled and continued to study her. It had been almost a year since our last visit with one another. This would probably be our last as she had truly exhausted our friendship. Not that it was ever a true friendship anyway. It was only ever one-sided. Her side.
I had began a process of weeding out so-called friends a while back. I didn’t tell her this though. It would be a serious blow to her inflated ego and do nothing for me in the meantime. I loathed her egoic stance, but I didn't want to hurt her. I will just slowly slip away from her existence after this final visit, I thought to myself.
I was always perplexed as to why she was proud to admit she was narcissistic. She just didn't get it. This is not a proclamation to revel in. However, I don't think a true narcissist can comprehend this.
Narcissism is very unappealing. Narcissists are said to be in love with themselves. This is a fallacy. They are not actually in love with THEMSELVES. They are in love with their REFLECTION. There is a major difference between one's true self and reflected-self.
I have known a few true narcissists in my lifetime and they have all been the same. On the surface, they exude high self-esteem, but inside, they are very convoluted and confused. Cold and empty. They haven't yet discovered their true self. Therefore, they are unable to truly love themselves. In fact, although they won't admit it, they don't even like what's beneath the surface. They are essentially half-baked, if you will.
I asked her if she knew the true definition of narcissism.
"Of course! It means I’m conceited. It means I KNOW I am beautiful and everyone around me should appreciate my beauty and bow down to me because of it. I am Queen and they should worship me!"
She held her hand to her chest with an exaggerated thrust, pressing her palm onto her soft, white Ann Taylor crewneck tee as she embellished the word, "I."
She said it half-jokingly. I knew what she meant though. Most truths be told in jest is what I always say. I felt sorry for her. She was empirically beautiful in the physical flesh, but what an empty shell this flesh morphed into with her every move, bringing to surface her internal uglies. This ugliness overshadowed her physical beauty. If I saw it, so did others. Oh how I wanted her to realize this, but alas, she was beyond help at this point. Not that she even remotely thought she needed any kind of help anyway.
She absolutely craved the attention and adoration of others to validate her self-worth. Like most narcissists, in the absence of observers, she shriveled to non-existence and felt dead. Little did she know those observers were only placating her egoic needs. Fleeting adoration - that’s all it ever was. Always short-lived, causing her to feel empty again. But she never understood why…hence her constant pursuit of admirers to fill this void. It was a vicious cycle. She was constantly abandoned by those who, in time, saw her true colors.
When this disruption and separation from others would occur - outwardly, to her, it was always their loss...inside, she writhed in pain and became desolate.
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