There was a moment in my healing journey that changed everything.

I walked into a therapist's office and told her I needed to talk about two things: my church and my marriage.

At the time, I wasn't entirely sure why those two topics belonged in the same conversation. They seemed like separate chapters of my life. One was about faith. The other was about a relationship. But the deeper we dug, the more obvious it became that they shared something important.

The parallels were impossible to ignore.

What I eventually realized was that my high-control religious upbringing and my covert narcissistic marriage were operating from the same playbook. Different settings. Different people. But the same rules, the same expectations, and the same emotional consequences.

And once I saw it, I couldn't unsee it.

Have you ever wondered how you went from being someone who spoke up for yourself to someone who barely recognized yourself anymore?

Maybe you used to have opinions. Boundaries. A voice.

And then, somewhere along the way, you found yourself apologizing constantly, monitoring someone else's moods, and putting your needs last without even realizing it.

If you've experienced covert narcissistic abuse, you're not imagining that shift.

Covert narcissistic abuse doesn't just hurt you—it rewires you.

One of the most common questions survivors ask is:

"How did I get here?"

The answer often lies in understanding the four trauma responses: fight, flight, freeze, and fawn.

But these aren't just random reactions. They are a hierarchy of self-advocacy.

Today my older son moved out.

He is 26 years old. And as I watched him leave, the last 26 years played through my mind — the good, the bad, and everything in between.

If you are parenting through a narcissistic relationship, then you know the fear I’m talking about. The one that doesn’t announce itself. The one that just sits quietly in your chest whispering, Will my child be okay?

I lived with that fear for years.

There were seasons when I genuinely thought I was losing my son. Depression. Isolation. Anger. Days spent in bed. Nights where the heaviness in my chest felt unbearable. And in January of 2019, only weeks after my divorce was finalized, my worst fear nearly came true when my son attempted suicide.

In this episode, I’m sharing what those years taught me — not as an expert, but as a mother who walked through it.

I talk about the mistake I was making without realizing it: trying so desperately to pull my son out of pain that I unintentionally taught him to hide it. I share the conversation with a grieving father that completely changed the way I parented. And I share two recent conversations with my son that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

Have you ever tried to describe your partner to a friend or family member and halfway through thought, “This sounds totally fine. I sound crazy. Why do I feel so terrible?”

That is covert narcissism in a nutshell.

It’s the kind of narcissism that doesn’t look like narcissism. There’s no loud ego walking into the room. No obvious arrogance. No dramatic self-importance.

Instead, they might seem quiet. Humble. Sensitive. Misunderstood.

And somehow, you end up feeling like the problem.

Today, I’m walking you through the Top 10 signs you may be in a relationship with a covert narcissist. Think of this like a checklist—but instead of grocery items, you’re checking off red flags you may have been taught to ignore.

Let’s get into it.

It’s 2am. You should be asleep.

But instead, you’re staring at the ceiling and their voice is back in your head.

“You’re too sensitive.”
“You always do this.”
“Why can’t you just be normal?”
“If only you had done this… then I wouldn’t have done that. This is your fault.”

And just like that, your mind is off and running.

You’re back in that kitchen. That car. That conversation that never really got resolved. Replaying it. Rewriting it. Searching for the perfect response—the one that would finally make them understand. The one that would make them see you.

You know the one I mean. The one that feels like gold. The one that has to land this time.

But it never does.

And eventually, you find yourself asking the same question again:

Why can’t I just let this go? Why can’t I stop thinking about it?

If this is you, I want you to hear three things right away.

First: you are not weak, obsessive, or crazy.
Second: there is a reason the loop won’t stop. And it is not the reason you think.
Third: what your mind is chasing is not what you think it is.

Let’s break it down.

If you’ve ever asked yourself, “Why didn’t I see it sooner?” after a relationship with a covert narcissist, you’re not alone. It’s one of the most common—and painful—questions people carry into the healing process.

But what if the truth is… you did see it?

Not consciously. Not in a way you could clearly explain or articulate at the time. But your body knew.

Your Body Was Paying Attention

If you’ve ever asked yourself, “Why didn’t I see it sooner?” after being in a covert narcissistic relationship—you are not alone.

And what most people don’t realize is this:

Your body saw it long before your mind could explain it.

That gap between what you felt and what you believed is what kept you stuck.

Today, we’re going to explore that gap—what it is, why it happens, and why it has a name:

Cognitive dissonance.

“Vampires don’t just bite… they drain you slowly, and you don’t even realize what’s happening.”

And that might be one of the most accurate ways to describe covert narcissistic abuse.

There are some metaphors that don’t just explain an experience… they embody it. Recently, several people I’ve worked with mentioned vampires when trying to describe what they had been through. So I decided to watch a series on Dracula.

I didn’t make it very far.

Not because it was overly dramatic—but because it felt uncomfortably familiar. Not in an obvious way. In a quiet, unsettling way. The kind that makes you pause and think:

“Wait… this is it. This is what it felt like.”

There is something that confuses almost everyone who has lived through covert narcissistic abuse. Why do you still miss them, even after everything you now understand? You can see the manipulation clearly. You can name the emotional abuse. You can feel the exhaustion in your body. And yet, there is still a part of you that misses them. A part that hopes. A part that wonders if maybe it wasn’t as bad as it felt. And then another part of you jumps in and says, “What is wrong with me? Why am I still thinking this way?” That internal back-and-forth can feel just as destabilizing as the relationship itself. But what if I told you there is nothing wrong with you? What if instead of seeing this as confusion, we started seeing it as communication?

I want to introduce you to a framework today that may help you make sense of this inner conflict in a completely different way. It’s called Internal Family Systems, or IFS. This is not about your external family. This is about your internal system, the different parts of you that developed over time to help you survive. Because here’s the truth: you are not one single, consistent voice inside. You are made up of parts, and those parts have been working very hard for you for a very long time.

If you’ve ever wondered whether someone in your life might be showing covert narcissistic dynamics, it can be confusing, frustrating, and even self-doubting. To help you tune into what’s really happening, here are five questions to quietly ask yourself:

1. Does the conversation quickly shift to their feelings?

When you bring up a concern, does the focus immediately move from the issue at hand to their feelings? In healthy relationships, both people stay present when something difficult comes up. With covert narcissism, the focus often flips—suddenly you’re defending yourself or comforting them, instead of addressing the concern.

2. Do you leave feeling confused or guilty?

Interactions may leave you questioning yourself, even if you started the conversation calmly. Emotional fog is common in covert narcissistic dynamics. By the end, you may feel uncertain, apologetic, or wonder if you overreacted.

3. Do they seem different in public than in private?

Many covert narcissists present themselves as kind and generous to others, but privately behave very differently—subtle criticism, quiet manipulation, emotional coldness, or a lack of care for your feelings.

4. Do your successes or needs trigger subtle criticism?

Instead of celebrating your achievements, covert narcissistic individuals may respond with minimization, conditional support, or quiet competition. Sometimes this looks like “helpful advice” that undermines you.

5. Are you constantly managing the relationship?