Mirror, Mirror: Seeing the Truth in a Narcissistic Relationship

Seeing the Truth on Reflection

I don’t know exactly where I first saw or heard the idea of identifying an evil character by their reflection in a mirror. Maybe it was in one of those old fairy tales, or maybe a joke in some movie. You know, those scenes where the “evil” person looks into the mirror, and the mirror breaks because they’re so wicked? The reflection doesn’t match the person. Something about that idea stuck with me.

Being in a narcissistic, abusive relationship felt a lot like those jokes about reflections and photos not matching reality.

I was seeing one thing in front of me, but on reflection, the truth was very different. We don’t always want to look back at the pain we went through in a relationship, and trust me, I get that.

It’s painful to revisit. But if you’re trying to heal and make sure you don’t repeat the same patterns, reflection is part of the process. I had to learn that after not one, but two narcissistic relationships that spanned twenty years.

The First Heartbreak: The Stages of Grief

After my first relationship ended—a marriage of 14 years—I felt the grief hit hard. But I didn’t realize that I was grieving, and no one around me encouraged me to process it either. Everyone wanted me to move on, get back out there, get a job, find a new relationship, something. Anything to stop me from sitting with my feelings.

But looking back, I can see how I got stuck. First in denial, then in anger—especially during our divorce, where he tried to go after me financially. Depression crept in, but no one gave me the space to actually feel it.

It wasn’t until much later, when I was nearing the end of my second abusive relationship, that I started going to therapy. This time, I was focused on me.

I went to deal with the stuff from my childhood and my marriage. Therapy helped me see the benefits of looking back and acknowledging the emotions I’d buried. I learned that emotions aren’t just a flash in the moment—they’re stored in the subconscious. And unless we bring them into the light, they stay hidden, affecting us in ways we may not realize.

Peeling Back the Layers: Seeing the Truth in Reflection

After a while, I started to peel back the layers. I found myself opening the door to my hidden feelings, bit by bit.

I had this whole folder of photos I’d sorted on my phone, where I’d either deleted my ex-husband’s pictures or hidden them away.

At first, I couldn’t even stand to look at any photos that showed me with him. But as I started reflecting, I went back to those photos and allowed myself to truly see them.

A photo captures a fraction of a second, yet it can hold a thousand emotions. When I looked closely, I could see things I’d missed before—the micro-expressions that I’d ignored.

In those pictures, my eyes had this hopeful, doe-like look, while he had an “I got you” smirk. His smile never reached his eyes, not even in the photos we took together. I realized that I had filled in the blanks with what I wanted to see.

In those early stages, I played mental gymnastics to avoid the truth. I’d use “negative logic,” telling myself things like, If he didn’t love me, he wouldn’t have bought me that bracelet, or If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have called to check on me. But looking back, I could finally see how much I was ignoring.

The Bargaining Trap

One of the most painful parts of grieving is the bargaining stage—those “what if” thoughts. I’d look back and wonder if maybe I’d been too naïve, too trusting. I convinced myself that I didn’t know what a healthy relationship looked like, and that’s why things went wrong.

I thought I’d be fine if I just followed someone else’s idea of what a good relationship should be, and that I’d make all the necessary changes to make it work.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that I wasn’t mourning the end of my relationship with my ex-husband. I was mourning the idea of who I thought he was.

It’s a weird kind of grief when you’re cycling through denial, anger, and bargaining over someone who wasn’t real. I was grieving the person I thought he could be, not who he actually was.

And by the time I got to acceptance, I understood that I hadn’t accepted the truth in the first place. That’s why I got into a second abusive relationship. I hadn’t learned the lessons from the first.

Accepting the Truth: Letting Go of the Fantasy

When I finally allowed myself to see things clearly, I understood that the person I’d “fallen in love with” only existed in my head. The real person was an actor, someone who took on the persona of my imagined love to lure me in.

And yes, he deceived me. But I had also deceived myself. I had told him everything I wanted, and he played the part.

Letting go of a narcissistic relationship doesn’t mean letting go of your vision of love—it means letting go of the actor who played the role.

Accepting the truth meant realizing that the person I wanted to love never actually existed in him. He was just playing the part I hoped he could fulfill. That acceptance freed me.

Finding Authentic Love: Being Real With Yourself

One of the hardest parts of this journey was realizing that, to find real love, I had to become my own true self. No more settling for someone who just “fit the role.” I wanted something real, and I knew that I had to believe in that possibility to attract it.

The more I looked at those old photos, the more I saw that my ex-boyfriend was just another actor, and I was finally ready to leave.

Yes, it can be daunting to feel alone when you’re looking for something real. But I learned that if you want a true connection, you have to engage with all your senses. Be present. You need to be the person you love before you can find the right person to love.

Many people believe that when you meet the person you truly love, you’ll need to change for them—that you’ll mold yourself into what they need. But in an authentic, loving relationship, there’s no need to become someone you’re not. Instead, you grow as individuals because you’re both in a space where you’re seen and appreciated just as you are.

True love doesn’t ask you to shrink or play a role; it invites you to be fully yourself, allowing natural growth within a healthy, mutual connection.

You’re not simply gotten by someone who expects you to fit a mold—you get each other, deeply and completely.

Together, you create the magic, not by pretending, but by sharing a journey in which you understand and embrace each other fully.

Moving on from a narcissistic relationship allowed me to return to myself, and that’s the best gift I could have ever given myself.

In the end, we don’t mourn the loss of the narcissistic relationship itself—we mourn the loss of the fantasy we created about the actor. And when you’re finally ready to face that reality, you’re ready to attract the real love that you drean about.

letstalk@tiffanyandtyrone.com