The Narcissist and the Frog in the Boiling Water
You know the story: throw a frog in a pot of boiling water and he jumps right out. But, put the frog in a pot of water that’s a comfortable temperature and it happily stays there. Then, gradually heat up the water and he boils to death. We are the frog when we get involved in relationships with narcissists. If they showed their true colors right out the gate— went into a rage, put us down or heaven forbid physically assaulted us— we would run as far and fast as we can, that is, jump out of that boiling water. But that’s not how it happens. We are heated to a boil slowly.
When I met my husband, we instantly connected. He was so easy to talk to. And he seemed so interested in me! I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I began to see him as my soul mate. We were meant to be. He was “the one” and I was sure we would marry. We dated for six months before I got a glimpse of his true nature. We were driving home from a date, and he got stopped by a cop for running a red light. A minor inconvenience I thought. Not to a narcissist. How dare his behavior be questioned? He went from calm to a raging animal in the span of sixty seconds. To the policeman! He called the cop a Mother F***er. He was so out of control that the police arrested him and charged him with disorderly conduct.
I was in shock. What on earth just happened? Why would a sane person act this way? Just because he was stopped for running a red light? I had to drive his car and follow the police car to the precinct. Several hours later, they released him. I got home at three o’clock in the morning. The next day, my family was celebrating my mom’s birthday and I had invited him to join us. At this point, I wasn’t sure I even wanted him there. But he came and he was remorseful. He justified his behavior by pointing out that the cop was obnoxious (he was). I was madly in love with him. So, I accepted it and moved on from it, but I was never comfortable. As the years went by, he would recount the story and suddenly it was all the cop’s fault, and he was completely blameless.
A sane person would have run far and fast at that point. But not me. I was in love. And so, I allowed him to explain away and rationalize his behavior. I married him nine months later.
That was the first sign of what was to come. I spent twenty-eight years living with his unpredictable rages. I walked on eggshells our whole marriage, as did my children. When I complained one day about his spilling something on the kitchen floor that I had just cleaned, he screamed at me that I don’t properly respect my husband, went upstairs, and pounded his office chair so hard into the wood floor that he put a gouge in it, and we thought the kitchen light fixture which was on the ceiling right below his office was going to come down. He then left for three days with no explanation.
Then there were the subtle put-downs. One day, he had his arms around me and rubbed the top of my head and said to my mom, “Look at this little head.” My mom, who was already onto him, said, “That head is full of lots of brains.” She could see the disguised put-down. I brushed it off as my mom being overprotective. But it was all too typical. Toward the end, the insults were more direct: “no one likes you,” “that’s why you have no friends.” Meanwhile, I had friends, but he didn’t! A little projection, maybe?
As you can see, I lasted twenty-eight years like this. Why? Because I was the frog. I was warm and comfortable with him, and little by little, I became less comfortable as the heat of his rages and insults set in. But there was always a justifiable reason. He had a migraine, a bad day at work, etc. And that’s how we end up being nearly boiled to death.
If you’re out of that pot, congratulations! You did it! You should be proud. If people ask you why you stayed as long as you did, don’t beat yourself up trying to justify it. Others, who mean well, don’t fully understand what we had to deal with and how hard it was to get out. I was lucky in many ways. I had the financial means to escape, and I wasn’t isolated from my support system. But it was still hard to get out, to break the bond. I know many others don’t have it as good and thus, leaving is much more difficult. You got out when you were able to. For those of us who weren’t hamstringed by finances or isolation, there were a myriad of reasons we stayed as long as we did: young children, religious beliefs, fear of the unknown, love for the idealized version of the person we were with. Don’t beat yourself up for staying as long as you did, knowing now you shouldn’t have. I often look back at various points and think, “why didn’t I leave then?” But I’m looking back now with the benefit of clarity, something we don’t have when we’re in the midst of the mess with an abusive person. Never forget that. You left when it was the right time for you.
If you’re in that pot now, don’t beat yourself up over it either. You didn’t go in with full knowledge of what you were getting into. But you can still get out before a full boil comes. I did manage to jump out of that pot. I had lots of scars and burns and it will take years to heal. I’m still healing two years later and probably will always have scars but I’m out. And I’m so much more comfortable being out. You can get out too. Just gather your courage and jump out of that pot! Do it before the water really boils. You deserve better.
Please comment below and share whether you’re still in that pot of boiling water or have taken the leap out.
Read my book about my journey from abuse to empowerment, my 28-year odyssey, battling a narcissist, navigating a hostile divorce, and emerging triumphant. Discover your strength. Reclaim your peace. You can find it here if you want. Or if you’d like a sneak peak first, you can go here and click on the look inside link under the picture of the book cover to read chapter one for free.
-Maria