Was the Overstory of Good Sex Written by a Narcissist?

The Expectations and Excitement

From a young age, many of us are conditioned to believe that sex is something magical, a prize shared with the right person. The overstory tells us that if our partner does all the right things—fancy dinners, thoughtful gestures, attention—it means we’re on track for a great experience. We build up our expectations based on how it’s "supposed" to look.

You meet someone, the red flags might be there, but you're swept up in the excitement. They check the boxes: they say the right things, plan for the future, and show you the attention you’ve been taught to expect. Your mind registers this as arousal. The scene is set, and the stage is perfect for what you believe will be amazing sex.

But sometimes, this excitement is just programming. You’re not seeing the subtle cues that something is off. You’re so focused on the story society has sold you that you ignore those small feelings telling you this isn’t quite right—for you.

I’ve been there too often, and even once is too much if you ask me. It’s that feeling of what you’re supposed to think and feel, although deep inside, you know it’s not what you really want. But what do you know? You’ve never done this before, and everyone else says this is what it's supposed to be.

Most women just know it. You can sense it—the intensity of his desire, the locked-in focus that feels like he’s being attentive when, in fact, it’s just lust. It makes you feel special at first, but there’s this nagging feeling.

You can sense the emptiness behind it, even as you try to ignore it. So, you focus on the part where you convince yourself you’re going to enjoy this experience, because that’s what you’re supposed to do.

You tell yourself all the ways this is going to be good. Whatever it takes to convince your body to cooperate, you’re willing to do—because, at that moment, you’re compelled to want this.

You’re determined to turn it into what you imagine it should be and ignore the truth of what it really is. You focus on the checklist, and if you ignore everything else, it feels perfect.

The Willingness

You go along with it. You’re ready, willing, and hopeful, telling yourself that this time will be different. You’ve put on the right outfit, played the part, and followed the script to perfection.

But once things start, you notice that the experience is one-sided. Foreplay is all about what you can do for him, not about mutual pleasure. Maybe he’s engrossed in ideas from pornography, misreading your discomfort as pleasure. You’ve been conditioned to believe that if he’s satisfied, you should be too.

You drop hints, try to communicate, but there’s that red flag again—he’s not really listening. Instead, you’re left wondering why he’s so thrilled, while you’re nowhere near satisfaction. The truth is, the overstory has set you up to play a role, not to experience true intimacy.

For me, this still gives me the heebie-jeebies when I think about it. It’s that shift in energy—from excitement to dread. One moment, I’m willing, convincing myself I’m fully present, and the next, I’m suppressing the emotions that start creeping in.

The shift often happened in the heat of their excitement—those moments when I knew it was in my best interest to put on a good face and fake the orgasm. It felt like the best way to escape without being found out. Without bruising their ego, which I knew would come back to haunt me later.

I’d done this more times than I care to admit. Faking it seemed like the easiest way out—no conflict, no questions, just a quick end. But beneath that willingness was the knowing that I wanted more. I had hitched myself to someone who was unwilling to learn, give, or create the kind of intimacy I craved.

The Disappointment

Looking back at my past relationships, I can see how much I was shaped by the expectation to be the giver of good sex, not the receiver. It was like an unspoken rule: if my partner was satisfied, then I should be too. But what happens when you aren't?

For many women, myself included, speaking up often leads to being dismissed or blamed. The message becomes clear: something must be wrong with you.

Worse yet, there's pressure to participate in acts that feel completely disconnected from your own desires—pornographic fantasies you never signed up for.

Somehow, society has sold this idea that discomfort or even pain is supposed to be pleasurable. It's a twisted narrative, but it's one so many of us are taught to accept.

In these situations, sex stops being about connection and mutual satisfaction. It turns into a performance—a way to ensure your partner doesn’t leave, cheat, or lose interest.

The sad reality is that after he's satisfied, he rolls over, and you’re left feeling hollow—flooded with regret, shame, and disappointment. You fake orgasms to end the encounter, knowing deep down that this isn’t what you wanted. But still, you say nothing, afraid that if you speak up, he'll look elsewhere for someone who won’t "complain."

Was the overstory of sex written by narcissists?

After my years of experiences in narcissistic abusive realtionships I just couldn't help but notice how the societal narrative of 'good' sex mirrors the dynamics often seen with narcissistic partners:

1. Moving Too Quickly:

   Society portrays the ideal of spontaneous, fast-paced sexual encounters, often glamorizing passion that overwhelms reason. This rush to physical intimacy is seen as a sign of chemistry and desire.

   Similarly, narcissists use this to bypass emotional connection and establish quick control, pushing their partners into intimacy before they’re emotionally ready, making them feel swept up in something that’s more about dominance than mutual desire.

2. Control Through Obligation:

   The overstory promotes the idea that a "good partner" is always sexually available, suggesting that pleasing your partner is more important than your own desires. This narrative places the burden of sexual satisfaction on one person, often the woman, reinforcing the feeling that saying no is a sign of failure.

   Narcissists often pressure their partners into feeling obligated to meet their needs, using guilt, manipulation, or entitlement to blur boundaries and ignore consent.

3. Devaluation After Conquest:

   Society romanticizes the thrill of the chase and the excitement of new passion, but offers little focus on maintaining emotional connection after sex. The narrative fades after the initial conquest, leaving a void.

   Narcissists mirror this by losing interest or becoming dismissive once they feel they’ve "won." After the physical encounter, they often pull away, leaving their partner emotionally abandoned, reflecting their pattern of devaluation.

4. Sex as a Measure of Worth:

   Societal expectations equate self-worth with sexual success, especially for men, turning sexual performance into a validation of one’s value. Partners are pushed to prioritize appearance, performance, and prowess.

   Narcissists take this further by using sex as a way to boost their ego, treating their partner’s pleasure as a reflection of their power. Instead of intimacy, the encounter becomes an ego-driven competition, leaving no room for emotional depth.

5. Gaslighting and Emotional Manipulation:

   Society’s overstory portrays sex as something that should always be exciting, flawless, and emotionally detached, leaving no space for vulnerability or communication of deeper emotional needs. This creates confusion for those who desire more, making them feel that something is wrong with them for not being satisfied.

   Narcissists create a similar effect by gaslighting their partners, making them question their own feelings and desires, manipulating them into silence when they seek emotional connection, and dismissing their needs as unreasonable or excessive.

In the end, disappointment comes when you realize that the overstory you’ve been sold—whether by a partner or by society—is just an illusion. 'Good Sex' aka True intimacy is about vulnerability, openness, and mutual care, but many never get to experience this because they’ve been led to believe that good sex is something entirely different.

True Intimacy: What It Really Looks Like

'Good Sex' isn’t what the overstory portrays. It’s not always passion and fireworks; sometimes, it’s as simple as holding hands, being present, or sharing quiet moments. But the overstory tells us that this kind of connection is boring. The deep emotional bonds, the kind that bring both physical and spiritual satisfaction, are often overlooked because they don’t fit into the exciting, fast-paced version of sex we’ve been taught to expect.

One of my closest friends has this intimacy. She and her partner had been together for 20 years before they even got married. They didn’t need grand displays of affection to prove their connection. Their love was in the simple, almost invisible gestures—holding hands, sharing a look. It wasn’t the kind of passion that society tells us we need, but it was real, and it was satisfying in a way that nothing else could be.

True intimacy is built over time. It’s not a performance or a transaction. It doesn’t rely on grand gestures but rather on mutual respect, understanding, and connection. The sad reality is that many people don’t recognize this kind of intimacy because they’re still chasing the overstory’s version of what good sex is supposed to be.

The biggest challenge is that real intimacy goes against the overstory. The kind of connection we crave often looks "boring" to the outside world.

A friend once told me about her dilemma between two lovers—one was physically perfect but left her emotionally empty, while the other was deeply connected to her soul but their relationship lacked that outward spark of excitement. “It’s nice,” she said, “but it’s too boring.”

That’s how society programs us: to believe that real, connected intimacy is dull and that we should chase the passion and excitement of the overstory. But after years of living in that world, I realized it was all a lie. I had been performing, putting on a show, pretending to be satisfied when I was screaming inside.

Breaking Free from the Overstory

Creating What You Want

It took time, but I finally learned that the type of intimacy I desired could be created. It wasn’t easy, and it required stepping away from the overstory, questioning everything I had been taught about love and sex. The truth is, genuine relationships with deep connection and fulfilling sex do exist. They might not look like what you expect. They might not match the glossy images you’ve been fed, but they’re out there.

Sex with a narcissist, though, will never be that. It’s one-sided, all about their satisfaction and how good they look to the outside world. It’s a performance, and in the end, you’ll be left empty, wondering why it doesn’t feel like the love you were promised.

A Call for Change

It’s time we talk about these buried truths. You deserve more than to be a silent participant in someone else’s fantasy. We deserve real intimacy, mutual satisfaction, and the kind of love that isn’t dictated by society’s overstory. So, let’s start that conversation. Let’s break free from the performance and create the intimacy we deserve.

letstalk@tiffanyandtyrone.com