“Even the Good Was Taken Away”: The Soul-Shattering Truth About Narcissistic Abuse
“In other relationships, you can still hold on to the good memories.
But with narcissistic abuse, the good was part of the trap.”
The Question That Shattered Me
In my counseling session today, my therapist asked a question that hit like a scalpel to the soul:
“What is the truth of this relationship?”
I sat there, breath caught in my chest, and the only words that came out—through tears—were:
“He hated me.”
Not just indifference. Not just “he didn’t love me.”
But a deep, guttural knowing: he hated me.
He resented my light.
He resented the fact that I saw him.
He used me to feel important, but he never intended to love me.
And that’s what cracked me open the most.
The Grief of Losing Even the Good
In most breakups—even hard ones—you can still look back on sweet memories and smile.
You can say, “We weren’t right for each other, but remember that trip? That laugh? That night we danced in the kitchen?”
There’s nuance. There’s grief, but there’s grace too.
But narcissistic abuse doesn’t leave you that… it snatches it from you.
Because eventually, when the mask falls off, you realize:
Even the good moments weren’t real.
They were part of the performance.
A weaponized illusion to hook you.
The person you thought you loved?
They never actually existed. That was the mask. That was the lie.
Who they were at the end when the mask fully fell was the truth of who they were the whole time.
That is soul shattering.
A Journal Full of Proof
At one point in the session, I was asked to name specific lies he told me about myself.
And honestly… I froze. Not because there weren’t any, but because there were too many.
They were all swirling—years of contradictions, distortions, and manipulations.
So I pulled out a journal from 2023—something a previous therapist encouraged me to keep when I couldn’t tell what was real anymore.
Because the gaslighting was THAT intense.
Page after page, I read them aloud.
And my new therapist just looked at me, gently but firmly:
“That’s emotional abuse.
That’s gaslighting.
That’s psychological warfare.
Over and over and over.”
He Didn’t Hate Me—He Just Never Intended to Love Me
She said something that’s still sinking in:
“He didn’t hate you. He just never intended to love you.
And those are not the same.”
He didn’t see me as a person.
He saw me as supply.
A means to an end.
He learned, somewhere along the way, that the best way to control someone was to control their emotions.
And that’s exactly what he did.
He played puppeteer with my feelings:
Love bombed when he wanted me closer.
Discarded when I got “boring” or too broken.
Hoovered when he feared losing control.
It wasn’t love.
It was ownership.
It was manipulation.
It was control.
The Cycle That Nearly Destroyed Me
If you’ve lived through narcissistic abuse, you know the cycle:
Love Bomb. Devalue. Discard. Hoover. Repeat.
They give you everything you ever dreamed of—until you’re hooked… like a powerful drug… taking you to the highest of highs.
Then they begin to chip away at your worth.
They rewrite your reality.
They break you down.
And once they’ve drained you dry, they discard you like trash.
But they don’t fully leave.
You’re a possession.
They shelf you.
And when they’re bored or lonely or want a hit of control again, they come back with charm and false promises.
And unless you break the cycle—they do this until you’re completely empty and destroyed. Or like me… you grow in your own power and finally see them too clearly.
I Broke the Cycle
I made it to the endgame.
Not because I stopped loving.
Not because I became cold or bitter.
But because I saw the truth so clearly that I couldn’t unsee it.
Even when I offered him redemption.
Even when I reached out in love and hope.
He responded with cruelty.
He doubled down on harm.
Because… he knew… I was no longer controllable.
And when they know they can’t control you anymore?
That’s when the full mask drops.
That’s when you meet the real them.
What Was the Purpose of It All?
When you can’t even hold on to the good—what’s left?
I’ll tell you what’s left:
Truth.
Discernment.
Self-respect.
Wisdom.
Spiritual clarity.
What I lived through was not love.
It was a masterclass in what love is not.
It was a sacred initiation in self-worth.
It was a brutal awakening to the power of emotional sovereignty.
I no longer belong to him.
I belong to myself.
“Even the good was taken away.
But I found something better than good. I found the truth. And that’s mine to keep.”
Closing: I Know I’m Not Alone
If you’re reading this and nodding through tears, I want you to know—
you are not crazy.
You’re not too sensitive.
You didn’t imagine it.
And you definitely didn’t deserve any of it.
You are waking up from a long, painful dream where someone else held the pen to your story.
But now?
Now you get the pen back.
Now you get to reclaim not just your truth—but your voice, your worth, and your future.
We may not get to keep the good from that story.
But we can still write a new one—and this time it will be real.
