There’s this thing that happens to people like us. People who feel deeply. People who lead with softness even when the world teaches us to harden up. Somehow, we attract the broken ones. The ones with heavy egos, hollow hearts, and charm so slick it makes your instincts slip right off the edge.
And before you know it, you're in it.
The trap.
You’re giving. They’re taking. You’re bending. They’re breaking. And somehow, it’s always your fault when the cracks show.
I used to ask myself, why me? Why do they always find me?
The truth is, narcissists have a radar for empathy. They sniff out our kindness like it’s blood in the water. They know we’ll listen. They know we’ll care. They know we’ll rationalize their coldness with “maybe they’re just going through something.” We confuse their inconsistency with mystery, their control with love, and their criticism with care.
But none of it is love. It’s a game. One they’ve played before. One they know how to win—because they’ve found the perfect opponent.
The empath.
The peacemaker. The overthinker. The “I just want everyone to be okay” type. The fixer.
We walk into their chaos thinking we can help. That our light can warm their cold places. And at first, it feels like it’s working. They mirror you. They say the right things. They make you feel chosen. Until you realize… you weren’t chosen. You were targeted.
And here’s the hardest part: it's not because you’re weak. It's because you're strong in all the ways they aren’t. You have depth. They skim the surface. You connect. They collect. You feel. They perform.
They want to soak up your energy because theirs is bankrupt. They want your validation because they can’t self-soothe. They want to be loved by someone real—but they don’t know how to love you back. Not really. Not without conditions. Not without control.
I remember being in the thick of it with someone who twisted every conversation into a guilt trip. I’d leave feeling like I did something wrong—just for having feelings, for asking for clarity, for needing anything. I was too sensitive. Too dramatic. Too needy. Funny how everything you bring to the table becomes a problem once they’ve eaten their fill.
Eventually, I stopped asking, why me? and started asking, what now?
Because healing isn't about blaming yourself for attracting toxicity—it’s about understanding why you stayed. And deciding that next time, you won’t.
You see, empaths are not weak. We are warriors in disguise. But we have to stop believing love means suffering. That sacrificing ourselves is noble. That staying in confusion is better than facing the truth: you can’t fix someone who doesn’t think they’re broken.
And maybe that’s the point. You’re not here to be their rehab. You’re here to heal yourself. To protect your peace. To recognize when someone is feeding off your light—and to stop dimming yourself just to keep them comfortable.
So if you’ve ever loved a narcissist, let this be your reminder: your softness is not the problem. Giving your all wasn’t your mistake. But now… it’s time to give that same energy to yourself.
You don’t owe anyone your peace just because they’re starving for control.
And you don’t have to explain why you finally chose to walk away.
