Romantic Delusion – Dissociation hit by Cupid’s Arrow

Imagine you are on a second or third date with a very handsome man. There is something that draws you into his face. His smile, his eyes, his generosity, his warmth. You find yourself lapping up everything he has to say. Then you come home and you talk to your friends about how it went. What did he say? You can tell them where he works, how old he is, what he looks like, even how many siblings he has. When it comes to answering questions about his previous relationship, what he wants for the future, any tensions he might have brought up with family or friends, or anything at all of substance that may have seemed to be a conversation that triggered you in some way – you draw a blank.

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A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing – The Covert Narcissist

“The mind in conflict with itself is dangerous to itself, and of course, by extension, to everyone else in all dimensions.  Therefore, indeed, beloved friends, beware of those that come in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.  Beware of the viciousness of the ego within your own mind.”  (“The Way of Transformation,” The Way of Mastery, Lesson 22, Page 266)

Ah, those sheep. They are so handsome, so sexy, or even when they are not, there is something about their character that draws you in like Little Red Riding Hood thinking it is Grandma. In psychotherapy, we talk about countertransference and transference issues. This is when a characteristic of the other person, makes us think of someone else and we transfer those thoughts onto that person. For example, Little Red Riding Hood is so focused on her ego telling her “This is Grandma’s house, so the person answering the door MUST be Grandma.” Her gut feelings told her that she had “Big Eyes,” today and “Big Ears,” and “Big Hands,” but little red’s ego kept insuring her, in compliance with the wolf, that he was in fact her Grandma.

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Having a Healthy Relationship After a Narcissist

Watch this or read the blog below! Whichever you prefer.

I am a psychotherapist in the Columbus, Ohio area. I have been working with survivors of narcissists for many years and during this time I continue to find new ways to help support the survivor as I learn myself. In my own evolution or increasing self-awareness as a psychology professional and a survivor of narcissism.

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Confessions of a Promiscuous Woman

from Artspace.com

On the heels of yesterday’s post, Confessions of a Trauma Bond Survivor, I will continue to tell Annika’s story from the other side (I am also continuing to share this in first person). Having been through this horrible ordeal with her previous lover, and going through the pain and suffering from this trauma bond, Annika began to awaken her consciousness by taking responsibility for how she got here. There are two sides to every story. No one is born a narcissist and no one is born a victim. We make interpretations from the cards that are dealt to us, along the way.

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Patterns in the Narcissists Behaviors

Personally and professionally, I have dealt with narcissistic men in relationships, as family members, as clients, and in business. I like to study patterns that I see that continue to appear over and over again, as a psychotherapist and began to reflect on this when it came to the narcissist specifically; for this post. This is not research, just an observation that I have seen, heard, learned of. I do not work with the narcissist (except when they are part of one of my couples), so I often hear it from the partner. If I am working with a couple, I am able to listen to them when I do a family history and glean more from them with the questions I ask. You have read many articles on line, most likely, about the narcissistic relationship to the wife/girlfriend. This article is going in a different direction.

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Audrey Fleurot – The New Catherine Deneuve

Elle Magazine 20 July 2020

I love many French actresses but Mlle. Fleurot has a style that I have not seen since Catherine Deneuve. This is not putting any of the other women down, there is just a similar type of elegance and grace that comes with this lady. She appears tall and striking on screen and seems to tower over others. Her presence on camera jumps out at you whenever she appears and you almost forget everyone around her. Her demeanor comes across as a delicate flower, assuming she is a vulnerable woman and yet, there is nothing helpless about her. It is a mixed message that she plays in all of the roles that I have seen her in.

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Preparations to be Together… A Hungarian Film

This is a Hungarian film, with a very very long name: Preparations to be Together for an Unknown Period of Time (2021). It is a film that many women can relate to. The man who isn’t who he says he is. The man who cons us into his disguise. The man who is avoidant and we take on the challenge of falling in love with him and gaining his trust and love. Then he turns into another person. He lies. We try to win him back by being persistent and devout. In the movie, this goes in an interesting direction. A very artistic path. Yes, she does get him back in the end. Only, in real life, this rarely happens.

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An Impossible Love: Un Amour Impossible

I will not put this movie (French 2018), in “The Arts” section because it is a psychological drama that hits on the topic of sexual abuse, narcissism and women being left alone for several generations; much like Antonia’s Line (Netherlands, 1995). The film starts out in the 1950’s post WWII France. If you are a great film lover, as I am, you will know when you see the cover and the title, it just hits you – I must watch this film. What really piqued my interest was the title “An Impossible Love,” which hit home for me. I saw other things in the description that I ignored at first until it came up on the screen. I love the way Catherine Corsini handles abuse of a child in this film. Extremely subtle. The topic does not even come up until much later in the film. The child’s older lover tells the mother, not to let her daughter visit the father anymore. The shock on the mother’s face, to realize a man she has loved for 16 years, but who has rejected her all the same, is now sexually abusing their daughter. The shock to finally take in the missing pieces of this puzzle “Rachel” has created, her fantasy that he was a great lover, that they had something special together, suddenly unravels before her eyes. Virginie Efira (with the help of the cameraman), gives a somatic demonstration of soul searching, confusion, awareness and reality in just a few seconds of this film.

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Your Soul

In my heart, there are tears.


Tears of joy,

Of sadness,

Of Pain,

Of love lost.


In my eyes, there are mirrors.


I can see in and out.

I can see you and me.

I can see that you do not see me.


In my ears, there are waves.


I hear music when we make love.

The rhythm of your laughter

Vibrates my soul.


In my nose, is your scent.


When you are near it is next to me.

When you are far it follows me.


On my mouth is your kiss.


I taste your passion at night,

When I am alone.

Who Am I

Through the passage of time, I have found my mark

And I look back to see how treacherous it was, to embark.

I recall a moment of slashed wrists and a broken plate

A baby crying in the back, while he lay in wait.


I sat in a corner as people walked by

And observed that they lived while I tried to die.

The wells of my emotions had all run dry.


The body was stiff but craved the touch of

One so great who would want so much.

And I looked and I took but they were wrong

Yet even still, I went along.


I knew in my heart that I should walk away

But I craved and I yearned for a voice that would stay.

Someone to see me for who I am

To just once get it right, even if it meant putting up a fight

Thinking I must fix it, assuming it was my fault, to hold this

Relationship and behave like an adult.


In and out of the rooms I would go

Putting on one hell of a show.

I danced and sang and praised and played

While they sucked up the juices and

Fed in to my demise.


I saw the noose hanging above the trap

While I ate and supped on all of their lies.


And when I searched for my mother once more

To give me some respite and nurture these wounds.

Hoping to get a tender embrace, instead she would slap me in my face.

She would call out the shadows from within

And laugh as they sprang forth; ripping the scars on my skin.


There I would sit in a void.

Numb to this renewed place I so wanted to avoid.

Stuck in a web from conception to light

I would scream and cry out wishing it would disappear with the night.

Alas, I am here as is she and the trees are filled with my memories.


I struggle and plod forward with all of my might

Working up the courage to make it alone; assuming that I have the right

And thinking that one day I may become known


When the stone turns and the walls collapse and out of this I won’t relapse.

I dream and I write and I scour my brain, looking for the answers out on the plain.

To imagine this is possible to think that I can,

Like the train who would and could and should make it up to that terrain.

I walked as I thought until I came up with a plan.

Would it work? I wondered as I thought out in haste,

I didn’t want this to be one big waste.


To my surprise the person inside began to emerge

And I saw the words cause the fears to purge

The rage and torment slipped behind the gate

As I felt my fingers once more and I began to create.