“The disrespect was so loud, that was my closure.”
– Jodi Pavlock
In recent years, the word narcissist has entered everyday conversation, often used casually to describe difficult personalities or selfish behavior. But for survivors of narcissistic abuse, the reality is far more complex—and far more damaging—than the label suggests. This form of abuse operates quietly, through manipulation, gaslighting, and control tactics that slowly erode a person’s sense of self and reality. The harm is often invisible from the outside, leaving survivors questioning not only their relationships, but their own perceptions.
In a conversation with Stacey Chillemi, Jodi Pavlock, author of Jekyll Can’t Hide, and Janet Viggiano, a licensed social worker specializing in trauma recovery, explore what narcissistic abuse actually looks like—and why it is so difficult to recognize, leave, and heal from.
How Narcissistic Abuse Takes Hold
Narcissistic abuse rarely begins with cruelty. It often starts with intense charm, accelerated intimacy, and an overwhelming sense of connection. Survivors describe feeling uniquely seen and valued—until the dynamic shifts. Praise gives way to criticism, affection turns conditional, and confusion replaces clarity.
According to Viggiano, the most dangerous elements are often the subtle ones: blame-shifting, manipulation, and gaslighting. Over time, these behaviors destabilize a survivor’s internal compass. When someone repeatedly insists that your memory is wrong or your reactions are irrational, self-doubt becomes the norm. The nervous system adapts by staying on high alert, constantly scanning for cues to prevent the next emotional rupture.
The Trauma Bond That Keeps People Stuck
One of the most misunderstood aspects of narcissistic abuse is why survivors stay. Trauma bonding helps explain this paradox. The cycle of intense connection followed by emotional withdrawal creates powerful neurochemical swings—dopamine and oxytocin during the highs, cortisol during the lows. The body begins to associate relief with the very person causing the harm.
Pavlock describes how this push-pull dynamic made it difficult to reconcile the person she hoped her partner could be with the one he consistently showed himself to be. The intermittent kindness felt real, even as the pattern of control and disrespect intensified. Leaving became possible only when she stopped negotiating with potential and began paying attention to behavior.
Control Disguised as Care
Control in narcissistic abuse is rarely overt at first. It may appear as concern, frequent check-ins, or “jokes” that land as subtle put-downs. Over time, it can escalate into surveillance, ownership of time and attention, and repeated violations of clearly stated boundaries. Viggiano emphasizes that consent is the defining line: behavior that continues after a clear “no” is not playful—it is abusive.
Healing Begins With Self-Trust
Recovery from narcissistic abuse is not about closure from the abuser. It is about rebuilding self-trust. Survivors often need support to re-anchor in reality after prolonged gaslighting. Writing down concrete incidents, working with trauma-informed clinicians, and reconnecting with the body’s signals all help restore internal authority.
Viggiano notes that therapies such as EMDR can be especially helpful, not by reliving trauma, but by resolving the beliefs that formed around it—beliefs like my needs don’t matter or I can’t trust myself. Healing is incremental and deeply personal, but it is possible.
Redefining Closure
One of the hardest shifts for survivors is letting go of the idea that the abuser will ever offer accountability or understanding. True closure comes from choosing one’s own reality and moving forward without waiting for validation from someone incapable of providing it.
Pavlock reflects that understanding the patterns—projection, gaslighting, trauma bonding—was transformative. Language gave her clarity. Clarity gave her a choice.
A Quiet Message of Hope
Narcissistic abuse thrives in confusion and isolation. Healing begins with recognition, compassion, and support. If you find yourself walking on eggshells, doubting your memory, or bracing more than resting in a relationship, those signals matter.
You are not imagining it.
You are not weak for staying.
And you are not broken for needing help.
Peace, safety, and self-trust are not luxuries. They are foundations—and they can be rebuilt.
