How I Was Convinced Into Marrying A Narcissist And It Made Me Stronger

I want to clarify what a narcissist is before I begin because I am never sure either. I assumed I was the problem, which is apparently what the narcissist wanted me to believe.

Narcissist, according to websters dictionary: an extremely self-centered person who has an exaggerated sense of self-importance

Yet I feel that this is just the start since many narcissists have traits such as:

Lack of empathy

Manipulative behavior

Self-centered

Arrogant

Ok, so just with a couple of these, I am pretty sure he fell into this category. Obviously, I never had him diagnosed by a therapist, so this is just my opinion. Maybe he was, perhaps he wasn’t.

All I know is that he was an A**hole and a mastermind with manipulation and emotional abuse.

When we met, he was charming, cute, and British. Plus, he was sophisticated, cultured, and had seen the world. So I think the accent wooed me. I was a naive country girl living in Santa Barbara, Ca.

I just moved there from the east coast. It was a new world living in California. At this point, I was 25 and didn’t even have a passport. I never wanted to leave the US; I was also brainwashed to believe it was the greatest country in the world.

He came into my life like a savior, my white knight. He would tell me what we would do and how our life would change. It put ideas into my head, and after a month, he moved in with me.

This was my roommate’s decision, and then he said, “if you don’t want me to move in, I will continue traveling, and we can break up.” First manipulation now that I look back.

Why couldn’t he get his own place, and we could date like an average couple? Yet I didn’t want him to go, so I gave in, I let him move it. This was the biggest mistake of my life.

I knew it was too soon, and something was off with him. Yet the partying and the stories he would tell me, the lies he would put into my head, were fantasy and made my already dreamlike mentality go crazy. I wanted it all. I was hooked; I was addicted.

After a few months, we visited his parents and went to Spain. This was where the travel bug bit me. I thought, wow, I can have this life, and he likes to travel. I was sold. I wanted that, yet he decided to become a US citizen.

I did not like this. When he proposed, I asked him if he just wanted a visa, he laughed and said no. Yet my initial reaction is always and was right.

He did not have a job in the US or England. He did not have any money. I found out he spent all his money on our trips and bought me clothes because he did not like how I dressed or what I wore.

He did not like how I acted or held my fork and knife. It was not ladylike. He said that I was raised wrong, poor, and a redneck hillbilly (which I was and am now proud of).

He didn’t love who I was, yet he loved the potential I had, to basically be an entirely different person. He wanted to change everything about me, from my southern accent to my clothes. I was so confused in my head; I thought he loved me; he must be right.

When a manipulation and mental abuser gets in your head, and you are young and naive, you will believe anything they say. I thought, well, he loves me. This must be what love is like, right?

So I did what he said, we fought a lot, but in the end, he won because I hate fighting, I hate confrontation. I will give in (in the past when I was not confident).

He took my money and spent it on luxury items, crap we didn’t need. I was the only one working and on a nurse’s salary (a new nurse’s salary, not much). He loved to use my credit cards and had to be on everything. Since, at this point, we were married, he was able to do it. So he did.

I hated the fancy cars; I hated it all. I knew it was not me. Slowly, I began drinking more, getting wasted drunk, and cussing my ex out. My ex would tell me that our relationship was terrible because I would drink too much, yet encouraged.

Finally, my ex got a job but made very little money, and my money was spent frivolously. I had 3 jobs I was tired and constantly stressed.

If I questioned him, he would tell me, it is your idea you wanted it, not me. He would twist my words so much that I felt like everything was my fault. This was easy since I came from a broken home it was easy.

It was so bad that my siblings hated him and stopped talking to me because he drove a wedge between us. The only family I had was them. He knew if I got away from them, he would have 100% control over me.

This was successful until one day, I decided to stalk him. I had a feeling he was cheating; he even spent the night with a girl and told me I made him do it. This was when I knew I had to leave him since my family hated me at this point, and I started to wake up to the manipulation.

I have no idea how I did it; I just knew that I would not put up with cheating. I know I would put up with the manipulation, the emotional abuse, the debt, the drinking, but cheating was the line that I would not let slide.

My ex thought it was possible to talk me out of this, but I finally stood firm.

I had friends who supported me, plus I had proof. I had his phone records; I had his finances. I like evidence in facts. Once I had that, I knew it was time to go.

The best decision of my life was the day I told him I was leaving and walked out.

He made me feel broken and that without him, my life would just fall to pieces. He said this about my family as well. Without him, I would just be a classless hillbilly and continue to be a sheltered “American.” How ironic that he wanted to be an “American,” right?

This experience taught me that when someone shows you their true colors believe them. If they twist your words, they are abusive. If they yell at you for drinking yet turn around and order you a beer, run. If they make you feel like you are the worst human on the planet, run.

I never regret anything I have done in my life, as it was there for a lesson for me to learn. Lucky this lesson was discovered when I was pretty young, and I learned to form it.

It made me really look at who I was as a person, making me stronger. This took years of therapy and self-work, but it eventually happened. Talking and thinking about him still makes my blood boil. I have a long way to go for forgiveness, even though it happened almost 15 years ago.

So the wound is healing, but it takes time. I do not beat myself up, yet I just vow to never let this action repeat.

There is so much more to the story, but this is just a little glimpse into how I let a manipulator into my life and how I finally said no more.

My life looks a lot different than it could of if I did not have the courage to decide to put myself first. When a manipulator gets in your head it is the worst feeling in the world.

I hope you never have to go through this.