Am I a Narcissist?

In the age of pop psychology and armchair diagnosis, “narcissist” has become one of the most weaponized words in the human vocabulary. It’s used to silence, to shame, and to project. But what happens when a deeply self-aware person—especially a trauma survivor—starts to wonder if they are the problem?

When your sensitivity, boundaries, or self-advocacy are twisted into evidence that you’re selfish, manipulative, or unstable, you can start to believe it. You can internalize the world’s confusion until you doubt your own goodness.

This is the tragedy of the empath who was told they were too much, too emotional, too angry, too aware—and finally, too dangerous.

The Mirror Hall of Projection

For many of us raised in dysfunctional systems, our earliest lessons about love came through distortion. We were taught that loyalty meant silence, that peace meant compliance, that emotional honesty meant betrayal.

And when we eventually began to see—to feel the lies, betrayals, and strange inconsistencies woven through our families or relationships—we were told that our intuition was paranoia. We were blamed for noticing what others refused to face.

But deep down, something in us never fully agreed. There was always a quiet knowing that it wasn’t us.

That knowing is what survivors call the soul. It’s the whisper that keeps you aligned with truth even when the world calls you crazy. It’s what walks beside you when you can’t find a single human being who will validate what you feel.

Walking with God in the Dark

Those who have walked through trauma know that divine companionship often comes in silence. You learn to walk with God quietly, watching, listening, letting people reveal who they are.

Those who sought to deceive often mistook stillness for stupidity. They thought your grace was weakness, your faith was naivety. But you were studying truth—not through gossip or revenge, but through discernment.

You weren’t asleep. You were observing. You were being refined.

It is strange, isn’t it, to watch people sneak and lie in the shadows—as if they fear being seen by the very Source who gave them life? That fear is their punishment. For the one who lives honestly, light is home. For the one who deceives, light is exposure.

The False Accusation

Here’s the hard truth: many survivors of narcissistic abuse end up asking themselves if they are narcissists.

Why? Because when you start enforcing boundaries, detaching from toxic people, or reclaiming your self-worth, you’ll inevitably trigger those who relied on your silence. They’ll accuse you of the very behaviours they practice. They weaponize your introspective nature to trap your mind in a perpetual loop of confusion.

Projection is the narcissist’s first language.

But discernment is the empath’s evolution.

Learning to see manipulation doesn’t make you manipulative—it makes you awake.

Beyond the Labels

Healing isn’t about deciding whether you’re a narcissist, an empath, or a dark empath. Those are archetypes—useful maps, but not the territory.

The real journey is toward sovereignty. It’s about becoming whole enough to hold both shadow and light without losing your centre. It’s about owning your story without shame.

And it’s about recognizing that seeing through deception doesn’t make you cruel or superior—it simply means you are no longer willing to live in illusions.

Final Word

If you’ve ever wondered whether you’re the narcissist, pause and look deeper. Are you capable of reflection, remorse, empathy, and prayer? Then you are not.

You are someone who has walked through the valley of deceit and chosen to keep your heart intact. You’ve seen what fear and shame do to the human soul—and you’ve chosen truth instead.

That’s not narcissism. That’s spiritual maturity.

Let them lie in the shadows if they must. You’ve learned to live in the light.

To Thine Own Self Be True