Relationships
He Said You Were Crazy: Recognizing Narcissistic Abuse in Romantic Relationships
By the time you start asking if it's abuse, the answer is almost always yes.
By Komel Kaur · 4 min read
Meera met him at a friend's wedding. He was charming, attentive, the kind of attentive that felt like being seen for the first time. He texted constantly. He told her, on the third date, that he had never met anyone like her. By month four, she was apologizing to him for things she hadn't done, and she couldn't remember when she'd last seen her best friend.
She came to therapy because she thought she might be the problem. "I think I'm too sensitive," she said. "He says I twist things."
This is the signature of narcissistic abuse in romantic relationships. The victim arrives convinced she is the abuser.
Why it's so disorienting
Narcissistic abuse rarely looks like a fist. It looks like a slow, sustained reorganization of your perception of reality. Researchers who study coercive control — Evan Stark's framework, now the basis of domestic abuse legislation in several countries — describe it as a "liberty crime," because what's stolen is not primarily safety but autonomy [1].
The pattern, repeated across thousands of clinical and survivor accounts, tends to follow a recognizable arc [2]:
- Idealization (love bombing). Intense early adoration. You are uniquely understood. The relationship moves fast.
- Devaluation. Small criticisms creep in. You're "too much," "too sensitive," "not like you used to be." Affection becomes conditional.
- Discard and reconciliation cycles. Sudden coldness, then warmth again. The unpredictability is the mechanism — it produces a trauma bond, the same neurochemistry as intermittent reinforcement [3].
- Reality distortion (gaslighting). Events you remember are denied. Conversations you had are rewritten. You start keeping notes to check your own memory.
What gaslighting actually does to the brain
Chronic gaslighting produces measurable changes in how the brain processes its own experience. fMRI studies of people in psychologically abusive relationships show patterns similar to complex PTSD: hippocampal volume loss, altered amygdala reactivity, and disrupted prefrontal regulation [4]. Survivors describe difficulty trusting their perception, brain fog, and a kind of cognitive exhaustion that persists long after they leave.
This is why "just leave" is bad advice. By the time someone recognizes the abuse, the cognitive machinery they would use to leave has been damaged. They are trying to escape a maze with a broken compass.
The cultural overlay
In South Asian contexts, the relational pressure to make a marriage "work" multiplies the difficulty. Survivors are told to adjust, to compromise, to think of family honor. The abuser is often a person of high social standing — successful, well-spoken, well-liked. Friends and family see the public version. They do not see the version that exists at home, at night, when the doors are closed.
A 2022 systematic review of intimate partner abuse in South Asian populations found significantly higher rates of psychological abuse compared to physical abuse in survey data — and significantly lower rates of disclosure, especially to family [5]. The shame stays in the woman. The behaviour stays in the man.
How to recognize it from the inside
Some of the most reliable internal markers:
- You apologize a lot, including for things you didn't do.
- You rehearse conversations before having them, to minimize his reaction.
- You feel a small, constant low-grade dread when he comes home.
- You have started censoring what you tell friends, because you sense they would worry.
- You feel relieved when he goes away for work.
- Your sense of who you are has gotten smaller. Things you used to enjoy feel inaccessible.
If three or more of these describe you, please take it seriously. None of these are about being "too sensitive."
What recovery looks like
Leaving is dangerous — risk of harm peaks in the weeks during and after separation [6]. If you are planning to leave, a safety plan with a domestic violence professional is not optional.
Beyond physical safety, recovery has its own arc:
- The first months are often worse, not better. You will miss him. The trauma bond is real neurochemistry. This is normal. It is not a sign you should go back.
- Therapy with someone who understands coercive control. Generic couples therapy is contraindicated and can make things worse.
- Rebuilding the network the abuse cut you off from. Friends, family, hobbies — the things that returned you to yourself.
- Grieving the relationship you thought you had. You did not love a monster. You loved a version of him that he showed you on purpose. Both can be true.
When to consider professional support
If any part of this article made your stomach drop in recognition, please don't sit alone with that. You don't have to be sure it was abuse to talk to someone about it. The clarity comes from the conversation, not before it.
You are not too sensitive. You are not crazy. You are responding, accurately, to something that is happening to you.
References
- [1] Stark, E. (2007). Coercive Control: How Men Entrap Women in Personal Life. Oxford University Press.
- [2] Arabi, S. (2017). Power: Surviving and Thriving After Narcissistic Abuse. SCW Archer Publishing.
- [3] Carnes, P. (1997). The Betrayal Bond: Breaking Free of Exploitive Relationships. HCI Books.
- [4] Schalinski, I., et al. (2015). Type and timing of adverse childhood experiences differentially affect severity of PTSD, dissociative and depressive symptoms. BMC Psychiatry, 15, 295.
- [5] Mahapatro, M., et al. (2022). Intimate partner violence among South Asian women: A systematic review. Trauma, Violence, & Abuse.
- [6] Campbell, J. C., et al. (2003). Risk factors for femicide in abusive relationships. American Journal of Public Health, 93(7), 1089–1097.
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