they usually refer to someone who is extremely self-involved and doesn’t care about anyone else. People often use the term to refer to a boss, coworker, family member, partner, or neighbor.
This informal adaptation of a clinical term roughly parallels the use of the word depressed. A lot of people use that word when they temporarily feel sadness, hopelessness, or despair. This is a very different state from someone who suffers from clinical depression, which is a serious, sometimes chronic, and sometimes life-threatening disorder. Something similar happened in the 1980s and 1990s, when generous, cooperative people were occasionally labeled codependent in everyday conversation.
Let’s dig a bit deeper into clinical narcissism.
People with narcissistic personality disorder have a constant and overwhelming need for attention—and, usually, for admiration, praise, and validation. At a social gathering, they dominate the conversation. At work, they seek the highest possible position and regularly insist their ideas are the best.
Clinical narcissists typically exaggerate their accomplishments and talents—and genuinely believe those exaggerations. They lie often, blatantly, and shamelessly. They have a greatly overblown sense of their own importance and often come across as extremely arrogant. They tend to be bossy, judgmental, perfectionistic, controlling, and power-hungry. They have no qualms about exploiting, cheating—or, in some cases, destroying—other people to get what they want.
GEORGIA
Georgia lies in a hospital bed, only days away from death. Her daughter Clara sits besides her, holding her hand; her dog Brownie relaxes at the foot of her bed.
Georgia says to her daughter, “Have you made all the arrangements for my cremation and burial?”
Clara nods and squeezes her mother’s hand. “It’s all taken care of, Mom.”
“One other thing,” Georgia says. “I want Brownie cremated and buried with me.”
Clara pulls her hand away. “Brownie’s still young and healthy. He’ll probably live another six or seven years.”
“No. I love Brownie as much as any human being possibly can. I want him cremated, and then I want you to mix his ashes with mine.”
Georgia’s wishes are not a reflection of everyday narcissism. They are symptoms of narcissistic personality disorder, a serious mental disorder.
People with narcissistic personality disorder have a strong need to be right in every situation. They genuinely believe they know and understand everything, and that they are never wrong. They also become aggressive when anyone challenges them.
This book is not about people with narcissistic personality disorder. It’s about you and me.
Most clinical narcissists have a strong sense of entitlement. They feel they are owed constant adulation, attention, and praise. They also feel they deserve to always get their way. Yet they have little or no insight into themselves, and they are utterly unable to empathize with someone else or see a situation from their viewpoint.
Perhaps most notably, people with narcissistic personality disorder don’t realize there’s anything wrong with them. In fact, they think that everything about themselves is just right—and better than everyone else.
This book is not about people with narcissistic personality disorder. It’s about you and me—and our relatives, partners, coworkers, neighbors, and friends. It’s about a form of emotional wounding that is as common as headaches and sore throats, yet far more painful and damaging. Most of all, it’s about healing the wounds of your own everyday narcissism and creating the life you truly long for.
“I was always looking outside myself for strength and confidence, but it comes from within. It is there all the time.”
Anna Freud
We’re all born narcissistic. This is a good thing. When we’re very small, the world is supposed to revolve around us and our physical, psychological, and emotional needs. Up until about age two, a child needs to be the center of their parents’ world.
If, as kids, our needs are regularly met year after year, we feel physically safe and unconditionally loved and confident. When we reach adulthood, we are physically and emotionally ready for the world and free of any EN. Yet this is generally not what children experience. Instead, most of us grow up emotionally wounded. Our psyches are bathed in EN, and we are surrounded by people who also suffer from EN.
As children, we each have a host of physical, spiritual, and emotional needs. These range from food, shelter, clothing, and safety to feeling counted, heard, believed, comforted, and valued. When we’re young, we are wounded each time one of our physical and emotional needs is not met. As children, most of us are wounded often in this way.
Please note that I’m talking about needs, not wants. As children, we may want to go swimming; however, we need to be fed. Not always getting what we want—and learning to handle the disappointment we feel in response—are important parts of growing up. However, being dismissed or discounted or ignored does wound us.
Many of these wounds are both commonplace and invisible to adults. For example, a first grader tells her mother that she wants to wear her hair in braids. However, her mother insists that she wear a ponytail. A third grader wants to play soccer, while his father, who played baseball, insists that his son do the same. In both cases, the children don’t feel heard, counted, or valued.
Parents are generally unaware of how and when they inflict these wounds. They are simply repeating the patterns they experienced when they were younger.
To help you see how commonplace these wounds are, and how small we are when they begin to affect us, let’s look at two more detailed examples.
BOBBY AND HIS FATHER
Bobby’s parents, Ned and Michele, are getting him ready for a party for his first birthday. Both his parents are excited. Bobby doesn’t understand much of what is going on, yet he sees there is a cake in the shape of a car, and he likes cake. People are hanging decorations, and his father is dressing him in a special outfit.
Soon his relatives start to arrive, and everyone starts to make a fuss over him. At first Bobby enjoys this. Then more and more people arrive. The house gets louder and louder and more and more crowded.
Bobby starts to feel uneasy and a little frightened by all the commotion and attention. He starts to cry. He looks around and sees his grandfather, whom he adores. He points to his grandfather and says, “I want to go to Grandpa!”
Bobby’s father Ned is disappointed and upset. He and Michele planned this party for weeks. He is excited to present his son to the crowd and show everyone how great Bobby is. Now his son doesn’t
