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What it Feels Like to be Over Your Narcissist
Renaming him in my phone felt petty, but good
My son tells the story of how, when he was little, he was bitten by what he describes as a brown recluse spider.
He did not tell me about it at the time.
But he said it left a rotting sore that turned into a hole in his finger. He’s fine now. He was hyper-independent, a trait all of us except the narcissist share, which is probably why he didn’t tell me.
Getting over the Ex, as I named him in my phone, feels like that.
OneDrive gifted me with another set of “On This Day” photos today. That’s a mixed bag, what with friends who aren’t friends anymore, deceased pets, vacations during a time of Before Covid.
Anyway, this photo shows the two of us in Sacramento, the kids around us, the mood tense at best. He was never photographed during his petulant fits, except this time and also that last summer, when we were in Key West as a family but he was out taking selfies for the mistress, with a SELFIE STICK. In this candid photo, I caught him looking at me with complete disgust. I can’t remember if I saved that one or not. But when I found out later that year about his affair and the baby she was carrying, that look made sense, if you’re a narcissist. Of course it was my fault.
