
Where empathy can be a bridge in healthy relationships, here it becomes an instrument of self-denial. You feel the other’s pain more sharply than your own, and push your own aside.” — from the book: Terug naar jezelf (English: Back to Yourself)
These words touch something I myself was in the middle of, without being able to name it as such at the time.
I remember the words of someone dear to me…
☘️ that I put myself aside too much for others.
☘️ that I always put another person first, and myself second.
☘️ that I let others cross my boundaries.
☘️ that I was “too good for this world,” and that others would take advantage of me.
In this way, this loved one (N.) tried to create distance between me and others, to isolate me, but also to make me doubt myself and how I experienced my relationships with others.
Because here’s the strange part: while N. told me that I sacrificed myself too much for others, I could never set myself aside enough for him, or let him cross my boundaries enough.
Crossing my boundaries — he was a master at that. Laughing while teasing, and when I said to stop, he’d keep going a few more times. Until I couldn’t take it anymore and started crying — then he’d get angry and I was “too sensitive,” or “making a big deal out of nothing.” Because he didn’t mean it that way, so crying wasn’t necessary.
That confused me and upset me at the same time. I kept losing more and more of myself in this relationship.
After my self-liberation came my way back to myself, out of the confusion and darkness into the light within me. Writing poetry helped me with this:
https://ilsehealing.nl/boek-over-narcisme/
On the impact of narcissistic dynamics
What I describe above is a pattern that often occurs in relationships with a narcissistic dynamic: the other person projects qualities onto you that are actually about themselves. Because N. told me that I erased myself too much, he never had to look at his own behavior — the boundary-crossing teasing, ignoring my “stop,” minimizing my tears. This is also called projection: your own shortcoming is placed onto the other person, so that they start doubting themselves instead.
I also recognize the mechanism of DARVO (Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender): whenever I set a boundary, it was denied (“I didn’t mean it that way”), followed by a counterattack (“you’re too sensitive,” “you’re overreacting”), and the roles of victim and offender were reversed — suddenly I was the one who was exaggerating, instead of there being room for what I felt.
The isolation is also a well-known pattern: by convincing me that I was “too good” for this world and that others would take advantage of me, distrust was sown toward the people around me — leaving N. as the trusted constant, and making me increasingly dependent on his view of reality.
The insidious part of this dynamic is that your own capacity for empathy — something beautiful and valuable — gets twisted into a weakness that’s used against you. You learn to push down your own pain, because the other person’s pain (or their denial of it) always seems to take priority. In the long run, this erodes trust in your own perception: you start doubting what you feel and see, even though your perception was accurate all along.
☀️ Today I know: my boundaries are not up for negotiation. And my tears were never exaggerated.
☀️ If this resonates with you — you weren’t crazy. You felt it right.
Back to Yourself was written by Michaéla Schippers, Michelle Shanti, and Alexander van Walraven.
