The Good, The Bad and The Narcissist
From an early age we are taught the difference between good and bad. We are encouraged to be good and punished for being bad. We see people as being one or the other but what happens when a person is both good and bad?
RELATIONSHIPSTRAUMA & ABUSE
Tyrone
11/16/20247 min read


Good Or Bad: The Subtle Trap of Manipulation
From an early age, we're programmed to see things in black and white: good or bad, right or wrong. We rely on these judgments to navigate the world, deciding who deserves our trust and who doesn’t. But what happens when someone embodies both the “good” and the “bad”?
Narcissists thrive in this gray area, manipulating impressions to create a powerful and confusing dynamic. For those caught in the cycle of narcissistic abuse, this confusion can become a prison.
I want to show you what it looks like in the early stages of manipulation—how something as seemingly trivial as wanting to show love through a birthday party can be used as a tool for control, leveraging public opinion to reinforce the trap.
I want to illustrate how subtle the effects are when others simply don’t understand, when people fail to appreciate that personal preferences are precisely that: personal and individual.
I aim to show how the collective beliefs about what is “good” and “bad” are weaponized by narcissists to squash their victim's individuality, forcing them to conform and participate in the façade that narcissists present to the world, leaving the victim trapped in an alternate reality of private abuse.
How Narcissists Use Impressions
Narcissists know that people are quick to label others as “good” if their actions mostly appear positive. They use this to their advantage, carefully crafting an image that appeals to those around them while hiding their true nature. This manipulation can leave the victim in a constant state of doubt, unable to gain support because others only see the “good” side.
Take my own experience as an example. Growing up, I had simple preferences. I valued genuine interactions over grand gestures or parties, but this baffled my partner when we were married.
She was horrified that I’d never wanted a big birthday party and saw it as her mission to change that. Every year, despite my clear wishes, she tried to throw me a party, manipulating the situation by involving friends who’d pressure me, questioning my preferences and painting me as ungrateful when I resisted.
The Cost of Picking Sides
Here’s where society unwittingly becomes complicit. When people hear that a partner wants to throw a birthday party and the other declines, most see it as a simple matter of someone “not appreciating a nice gesture.” But it’s deeper than that.
In my case, my refusal wasn’t about rejecting kindness—it was about staying true to who I was. Yet, the external judgment was swift and overwhelming: “Why not just let her? Happy wife, happy life.”
This mantra echoes the sentiments that force victims of narcissistic relationships into compliance. It overlooks the power imbalance, where what’s framed as a kind gesture is actually a tool of control.
Narcissists use these “good” acts to maintain an image, positioning themselves as the generous and loving partner. And because people generally see these acts as good, they fail to recognize how they’re used as weapons.
The Birthday Surprise: A Glimpse into the Subtle Manipulation
One of the most illustrative moments of my relationship was the birthday surprise. My birthday was approaching, and for the first time in years, I felt a wave of relief. My wife was going to be out of town that weekend, which meant I could avoid the traditional, stress-inducing birthday spectacle she always insisted on.
These events were more about her vision of celebration than my comfort. The pressure to perform happiness, the carefully veiled insults that came as “jokes,” and the burden of being the center of an event I never wanted—it all felt suffocating. I thought I’d escaped that cycle. I was wrong.
A few days before my birthday, one of my close friends called me up. He suggested we hang out, a casual invite that felt like any of the countless times we’d gotten together. We were close—serving on committees, grabbing meals, catching up on life. His call was so routine that I had no suspicion of what was to come. The idea that she would go to such lengths while out of town never even crossed my mind. But that’s precisely what happened.
She had reached out to him and a few others, rallying them to organize a small birthday dinner in my honor. On the surface, it seemed thoughtful, even generous. To most people, this would be a clear sign of love and care—a partner going out of their way to ensure I felt celebrated.
But as I walked into the restaurant and saw the five familiar faces staring back at me, each smile tinged with expectation, my heart sank. The friends she’d chosen were people I genuinely liked, but they didn’t know each other; they were only connected through me. This wasn’t a gift—it was another imposition, meticulously disguised as an act of kindness.
The dinner stretched into three long, awkward hours of forced conversation. I was the only common thread binding these people together, and it became my unchosen task to keep everyone engaged, entertained, and connected. I had to play host to my own birthday, a celebration I never wanted in the first place.
The evening was a swirling mix of small talk, polite laughter, and my silent frustration. For the others, it was likely a pleasant night out. For me, it was a reminder that my wants and words had once again been ignored, that my voice was irrelevant if it clashed with what she deemed best.
Ungrateful or Undermined?
That night, she called me. Her voice had that light, teasing tone she used when she expected praise. “Wellll?” she prompted, fishing for gratitude. But instead of playing along, I snapped. The anger I’d kept in check spilled out. I let her know, bluntly, how annoyed and betrayed I felt.
After years of repeatedly saying I didn’t want these kinds of parties, she’d found a way to bulldoze over my wishes yet again. And her response? “I can’t believe how ungrateful you are. I did this to help you. You’re awful at making friends, and if not for me, you wouldn’t have any.”
To an outsider, this might seem trivial. “What’s the big deal?” they might think. “She was just trying to do something nice. Why couldn’t you just appreciate it?” But that’s the complexity of toxic relationships. Acts of ‘kindness’ are often barbed with manipulation.
They’re not about making the recipient feel loved; they’re about showcasing the giver’s control, about reinforcing the narrative that without them, you’re less than whole.
This wasn’t just a birthday dinner—it was a reminder that she could and would bend my reality to her liking, no matter how often I voiced my truth.
Most people never see beyond the façade. They see the smiles, the seemingly thoughtful gestures, and assume the best. But when those gestures are laced with an utter disregard for boundaries, they become tools of control. This is why victims often stay silent, trapped in the dance of gratitude and resentment, aware that speaking up might only prove their ‘ungratefulness’ and further cement their isolation.
Being aware of these dynamics is essential. It’s not about who can put on the best show; it’s about understanding what true respect and listening look like. It’s about recognizing when ‘kindness’ is just another mask for control, and having the courage to question whether the relationship you’re in values your voice or silences it for someone else’s comfort.
Why Victims Don’t Just Speak Out
One of the most puzzling questions outsiders often have is why victims don’t just say what’s happening or why they remain silent for so long. The answer is complex. Victims themselves often experience confusion about their reality within the relationship. After all, if you’re in a romantic relationship, how can it truly be a bad thing? When the relationship began, you willingly entered it—so why not just leave if something feels wrong?
The reality is that leaving isn’t straightforward when it involves a narcissist. Victims didn’t know what they were signing up for when the relationship started. What begins as seemingly perfect love and attention slowly shifts as subtle, unsavory behaviors surface.
When a victim starts noticing these red flags and tries to set boundaries, the challenge intensifies. They face a bombardment of voices from well-meaning friends and family who often echo the sentiment that they are overreacting or misinterpreting the relationship. This response traps victims, making them feel foolish for speaking up in the early stages of noticing controlling behavior.
Compounding this is society’s bias toward defining what is ‘good’ and ‘bad’ in relationships. This bias reinforces the idea that if a relationship appears ideal on the surface, then any issues must stem from a misunderstanding or fault on the victim’s part.
The pressure to conform to these societal impressions creates a profound internal conflict. The victim doubts their instincts and questions their reality, fostering silence.
To truly protect ourselves and others from these entrapments, we must become aware of how these dynamics operate. Understanding the societal and personal biases that can reinforce a narcissist’s control is a vital step in recognizing and challenging harmful patterns before they deepen.
Conclusion: The Dangers of Assumptions
It’s easy to judge from the outside and label actions as “good” or “bad” without understanding the deeper context. But when we do, we risk siding with the abuser and trapping the victim. In reality, good and bad are not absolutes. What’s good for one person can be toxic for another, just as delicious peanuts can be deadly to someone with an allergy.
The birthday party manipulation was just a small piece in what would become the ruins of my life in that relationship. Behind the facade of being the ideal couple, my alternative reality was the loss of my identity. To keep her happy, I had to become someone else, and while the public accepted this version, I was left depressed and unhappy.
I was isolated from anyone who shared my views and surrounded by people she preferred. My time and money were consumed by her insatiable need to project herself as the perfect wife, while at home, I was constantly insulted, belittled, and humiliated. She skillfully wielded the power of public opinion on “good” and “bad” to prove that my personal preferences were wrong and that I shouldn’t have them.
My relationship was constantly on display, scrutinized by social media, where she posted perfect pictures that forced me to play along and maintain the facade. To this day, people from my past believe I walked away from an ideal relationship.
They don't understand how much I longed for the public image to match my personal reality. They assumed that if the public impression was positive, the private experience must have been the same. Even now, writing this, I’m filled with the nagging thought, “Was it really that bad?” It’s easy to minimize your suffering when everyone else envies what they think you had, based solely on public perception.
The next time someone shares their discomfort or boundaries, listen. Don’t assume that “good” gestures are always harmless. Remember, narcissists thrive on impressions, and by not questioning them, you might unknowingly support their game. Accepting that both the public impression and the personal story can be true is a lifeline victims need to find the courage to stand firm in their boundaries.
