If You're Thinking Of Leaving A Narcissist, Try This First
Practical help for those who are at the end of your rope
The internet is flooded with advice for people in relationships with narcissistic individuals. Most of it says “Leave.” And once you do, “grey rock” or “yellow rock" them, making yourself as dull and uninteresting as a grey rock or a slightly sunnier fake-smiling yellow rock. The idea being that since even negative attention will suffice as narcissistic supply, failing to get a rise out of you will make the narcissist lose interest. Most of it demonizes and dehumanizes the narcissist, casting them out of the wholeness of humanity and making them out to be character-flawed monsters.
But what if you actually love this person who has behavior issues because of childhood trauma? What if you have a home and children and an entangled life together? What if you’re beyond the point of tolerating or enabling narcissistic behavior, but you’re wondering if there’s anything in between neurotic tolerance of unacceptable behaviors and plastering your face into a grey rock? Are there any other options?
The False Binary of “Stay and Suffer” vs. “Leave and Shut Down”
Let’s be clear: some narcissistic dynamics are so unsafe, chaotic, or abusive that separation is the only healthy and viable path forward. But there are other times when it’s not so cut and dried. You may be in a trauma-bonded relationship that isn’t dangerous, per se, but it is confusing, exhausting, and emotionally eroding. You may be constantly riding a rollercoaster of idealization and devaluation, tenderness and cruelty, emotional intimacy and cold detachment.
You may be wondering: Is there any way to hold this dynamic with compassion and boundaries at the same time?
Yes, But First: A Word About Labels
Let’s zoom out for a second. The overused term "narcissist" is often weaponized or used as shorthand for someone who is emotionally unavailable, egotistical, grandiose, lacking in empathy, entitled, and manipulative. Real narcissistic patterns are usually born from a deep wound- a child who learned that vulnerability was unsafe and grandiosity was necessary to survive. That doesn’t mean the behavior is excusable. But it is explainable. It also doesn’t mean the person is beyond repair, especially if they’re earnestly doing their work (which is unfortunately rare).
Still, labeling someone “a narcissist” can shut down curiosity, reduce their humanity, and tempt us into smug, superior self-righteousness. In my upcoming book with Jeffrey Rediger, Relationsick, we shift the question from “Is this person a narcissist?” to “Is this dynamic safe, fair, and growth-oriented—or is it emotionally unsustainable, coercively controlling, abusive, or making you sick?”
Whether someone meets diagnostic criteria for Narcissistic Personality Disorder is less important than this: How are they treating you? And how are you treating yourself in their presence? Is this relationship making you relationsick, or are you coping okay, physically, emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually?
Red Flag vs. Repairable Wound
Let’s break it down practically. According to Craig Malkin in Rethinking Narcissism, narcissistic traits lie on a spectrum from zero to ten. Those in the 8-10 range have too much narcissism. Those in the 0-3 range don’t have enough. The Goldilocks zone is 4-7.
Some people with narcissistic wounding have high levels of self-awareness, are working on their issues in therapy, and even if they initially get defensive, they can still take accountability when gently invited to do so. Others become volatile, cruel, or slippery the moment their ego is challenged. Some are defensive but soft beneath the armor. Others are defensive and mean behind a mask of charm.
When considering whether to stay or go, ask yourself:
Are they willing to go to a couples therapist who specializes in narcissism, like someone trained in Terry Real’s Relational Life Therapy (RLT)? Or do they mock therapy and refuse to go, unless it’s someone they choose, someone who coddles narcissists instead of taking sides and calling them out?
Is this person ever capable of owning their impact? Do they always wind up blaming their victims, or do they ever have moments of true humility and remorse, without sinking so low that they make it all about themselves and how awful they are, while still lacking empathy for those they hurt?
Can they tolerate feeling shame about their impact on others and still manage to stay in connection when things get hard?
Do they have access to empathy—even if only sometimes?
Have they shown a willingness to grow, or are they always the victim, blaming anyone who calls them out on their hurtful behaviors?
If the answer is “no” across the board, then yes—grey rock may be a safer tool than continued emotional exposure. But if there’s some capacity there, some glimmer of humanity flickering beneath the bravado, there may be another way. So let’s unpack this.