“Am I a Narcissist?” The Number One Question Victims of Narcissistic Abuse Ask Themselves

As a therapist and owner of a sizable private practice, I see what seems like an endless stream of individuals who have had traumatic experiences with narcissistic people. These narcissists might be a parent, friend, boss, co-worker, partner, or even a child. Often, clients have spent years trying to make these relationships work. By the time they land in a therapist’s office, they’re typically questioning a lot—about themselves, about relationships, about happiness and self-worth—and most of all, how they got to this point.

Not only do people who struggle with narcissists show up for therapy—sometimes the problematic narcissists themselves do, too. (I say “problematic” because all humans possess some degree of narcissism. There’s a difference, however, between healthy narcissism and problematic narcissism, which becomes a corrosive force within relationships.)

After working with many individuals from both groups, I’ve noticed that the types of questions each tends to ask in therapy are strikingly consistent. The problematic narcissist’s narrative usually centers around blaming others, while those in relationships with narcissists tend to focus on blaming themselves.

This isn’t a hard and fast rule, especially as victims of narcissistic abuse begin to understand what has been happening to them. At that point, they often come to see they have, in fact, been victimized. But prior to that realization, nearly all of them wonder what they did to deserve the abuse. And the most common question I hear from these clients is: “Am I the narcissist?”

When someone who has been victimized asks me this, I often experience a moment of cognitive dissonance—because it’s so clear they are not the abuser. These are people who have bent over backward to accommodate their partner, boss, friend, or parent. They’ve tolerated unreasonable, unfair, and even cruel expectations. They’ve absorbed the fallout of the narcissist’s behavior and tried to manage the narcissist’s moods just to prevent the “worst” from happening.

They’ve been told—often and in various ways—that they’re stupid, selfish, or incompetent. Over time, many come to believe this story, despite ample evidence to the contrary. Unable to fathom that someone would treat them so cruelly without a reason, they conclude that the problem must be them. Maybe the narcissist had a traumatic childhood and just needs more support. Maybe they’re brilliant and understandably frustrated by the “simple-mindedness” of others. Or maybe—if the victim were more __ [insert any quality here] __ or

less __ [insert any other quality] __—the abuse would stop. It’s often incredibly difficult to convince clients that none of this is true.

What is true is that all problematic narcissists share the same worldview: they are the victim. Their endless need for validation and control speaks to a deep internal emptiness they believe can only be filled by the subservience or admiration of others. When they don’t receive this validation, they turn their anger outward—in a never-ending cycle of
gaslighting, manipulation, and ultimately, discard—in an effort to get their needs met.

I have never worked with a narcissist who authentically wondered what they might be doing to contribute to the pain, confusion, loneliness, and frustration that colors their experience of life. For this reason, when a client genuinely wonders whether they might be the narcissist, I know—they’re not the narcissist.

That said, this doesn’t mean they haven’t contributed to the dynamic. Victims of
narcissistic abuse are often codependent, with poor boundaries, low self-esteem, and unresolved trauma. There is hard work to do in healing. But these individuals also tend to care deeply about others, condemn exploitative dynamics, and are capable of the kind of deep self-reflection that leads to awareness and emotional health.

So if you find yourself wondering, Is this all my fault?—it’s safe to say it isn’t. And you can begin the hard, liberating work of reallocating responsibility. That may feel surprisingly difficult at first—self-blame can be a safe, if painful, place to hide. But with small steps in a supportive environment, you can begin to rise above the feeling of being trapped and powerless. You can start reconnecting with a version of yourself that expects—at the very least—compassion and respect from those around you.