A few weeks ago, I bumped into someone who mentioned a column I wrote years back – something about narcissism. 

To be honest, I barely remembered it. But we got to talking, and like a lot of conversations that actually go somewhere, it stuck with me. Later that night, curiosity got the better of me, so I dug around in some old files and, surprise, there it was.

Reading it again opened the can of worms in my head back up. So naturally, I did what any over-thinker does: pulled out a few articles, listened to some podcasts, and even skimmed back through notes from Erwin Lutzer, a preacher I really like who once did a sermon series on difficult people. 

Pretty sure narcissism was a two-parter.

Let’s talk about that word for a second: narcissist. Because these days, it gets tossed around a lot. Someone acts a little selfish? Narcissist. Interrupts too much? Narcissist. Posts too many selfies? Definitely a narcissist.

But let’s pump the brakes for a second. Because true narcissism – the kind that lives in psychology textbooks and not just our social media comments – is a whole different beast. It’s not just being full of yourself. It’s being so consumed by yourself that there’s no room left for anyone else.

Real narcissists don’t just want to be the center of attention – they rewrite the whole script so they always are. At work, at home, in friend groups.

Somehow, everything loops back to them. They talk over others, hijack conversations, and take credit for things they didn’t do. And if you dare call them out? As Bette Davis once warned: Fasten your seatbelts.

One of the most frustrating things? They’ll use your own words against you. You open up, thinking you’re in a safe space, only to have it come back twisted and weaponized. They don’t see vulnerability as connection – they see it as leverage.

Narcissists often mistake leadership for humiliation. They can be bullies. They don’t coach; they criticize. Publicly. Harshly. And they’ll call it “being honest” or “motivating the team.” In reality, it’s fear-mongering dressed up in tough love. 

And if they go too far and get called out? That’s your problem, not theirs. Because, the narcissist? They’re never wrong. You’re just “too sensitive” or “jealous” or “ungrateful.”

Ever try to get a narcissist to apologize? It’s nearly impossible. We all know someone who rarely, if ever, says “I’m sorry.”  It’s usually “I’m sorry your feelings were hurt” or even a “Did what I say hurt you?” They don’t own it.  They don’t assign blame to themselves.

Here’s the irony: behind all the bluster and bravado is usually a deep well of insecurity. 

Narcissists need praise like the rest of us need oxygen. The moment someone else gets attention, they either discredit it or (classic move) claim it was their idea all along. You could be praising someone whom everyone considers a saint, and the narcissist will chime in with, “Yeah, but all they do is stand around.” 

Translation: Why weren’t you praising me instead?

Narcissists also tend to see themselves as the smartest person in every room – even if they’re completely out of their depth. They say things like, “Your job isn’t that hard,” or “Running a business? I could do that in my sleep.” Yet when it comes time to actually put in the work, you can bet they’ll be the ones passing it off to everyone else.  

That’s another thing – they’re delegators, not collaborators. They’re great at starting things and getting recognition, but the minute it gets tedious? Poof. Gone. 

Meanwhile, others are left doing the heavy lifting.

And here’s a little clue for spotting a narcissist: Watch how they treat people they don’t need. Narcissists can be real charmers when it benefits them. But if someone can’t help them climb the ladder, they barely exist. Polite to the CEO, rude to the custodian. Gracious to the donor, dismissive to the volunteer. It’s all transactional. If there’s nothing in it for them, they’re not interested.

Also, rules? Not for them. Deadlines, boundaries, social norms – they don’t apply. At least in their minds.

Now, in the beginning? Narcissists often look impressive. They’re polished. Driven. Visionary. They light up a room and get things moving. But fast forward a few months or years, and there’s usually a growing list of ex-staffers, ex-volunteers, and ex-friends who all say the same thing: “I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

And no, that’s not just bad luck. That’s the system.

The narcissist will look at the long list of people who aren’t around anymore and assume they had issues, not him.

If you’ve ever worked for or been close to a narcissist, you know how draining it is. You give and give and give. But when the tables turn and you need support? Silence. Or worse, you get painted as the problem. And if you finally break free? Don’t be surprised if they circle back with some charm or a dramatic change of heart just to test if they can reel you in again. Manipulation is usually part of that procedure.

Here’s the wildest part: most narcissists have no idea they’re narcissists. If you slid this column across the table to them, they’d either laugh, get offended, or somehow make it about how they’ve been wronged. It’s always someone else’s fault. Always.

Narcissism often has roots in dysfunction. Maybe it was modeled by a parent. Maybe it was a childhood filled with praise and zero accountability. Maybe it was growing up in an environment where only performance got attention. Whatever the origin, it’s not just a personality quirk. It’s a deep, often harmful pattern.

Can they change? Some do, with therapy. With real accountability. But most don’t. Change takes self-awareness, humility, and consistency – three things that aren’t exactly in the narcissist starter pack.

So what if you’ve got a narcissist in your life? Protect yourself. Protect your peace.

Don’t wait for a breakthrough. Don’t try to fix them. Set boundaries. Step back. Pray for them, yes – but don’t hang around hoping they’ll magically become someone else. Because unless they’re ready to do the hard work, you’re just another actor in a show that’s always been about them.

And let’s be honest – you weren’t made to be a supporting character in someone else’s drama.