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The feeling in the air lately.

You too?

That feels exciting!

Have a mystical, magical weekend you guys,
xox

“People in France have a phrase: “Spirit of the Stairway.” In French: esprit d’Escalier. It means that moment when you find the answer but it’s too late.
So you’re at a party and someone insults you. You have to say something. So, under pressure, with everybody watching, you say something lame. But the moment you leave the party . . .
As you start down the stairway, then – magic. You come up with the perfect thing you should’ve said. The perfect crippling put down. That’s the Spirit of the Stairway.”
― Chuck Palahniuk

I love this quote. I’ve lived this exact scenario.

My husband and his family are French and a French insult is like no other in the world. Much like fashion and food, they have elevated it to an art form.

What other culture has an entire phrase dedicated to it?

A French insult is subtle, cloaked in a back-handed compliment, and always accompanied by a smile. Well, a smirk really.
“That dress is very pretty…so much better than the one you wore the other night.”
Smirk, double cheek kiss and…scene.

Ouch.
It’s just that my take on this is a little bit different.
Although I’m the first person to utter bitch under my breath, I don’t waste my time searching for the crippling put down.
Listen, don’t get me wrong, I can eviscerate you verbally, I’m a writer.

It’s just that a put down or a jab seem… pedestrian—like the easy choice.

I’d rather be ironic and humorous.
It defuses the situation immediately. Magic comes to those that are funny, not insulted.

Besides, the French don’t know what to make of humor. Let’s face it— they wouldn’t recognize it if it bit them in the ass (now that’s funny)—they laugh at Jerry Lewis for godsakes!

If I get pissed, I get stupid. End of story.

You have to stay smart to be funny, and when the whole room laughs…no one remembers the insult. That’s magic!

“Thank you” leaning in, “I’m so comfortable—I’m not wearing any underwear.” Wink, double cheek kiss…and out.

You get the idea.

And don’t leave the party until you say your piece.

You can double back, there’s no statute of limitations on a party insult.

It doesn’t have to be “spirit of the stairway”. It can be “spirit of the driveway” or “spirit of the hallway.” “Spirit of the back patio” and “spirit of the powder room” work too.

Doesn’t matter. Let ‘em it have it.
With humor.

Carry on my crazy tribe,
xox

“If you build the guts to do something, anything, then you better save enough to face the consequences.”
― Criss Jami

Things that never happened because I didn’t have the guts.
The list is long. Like longer than Taylor Swift’s legs long.

How do I know for sure what could have happened?
I don’t. But my regret does.
I’m sure you know what I mean.

My regret is an artist who paints with broad strokes. Large, majestic scenery, filled with full-color landscapes of stories that never happened.

It also is a master in the art of persuasion.

Those stories look spectacular.
They seem amazing.
They are fucking fairy tales.

In these scenarios, my gutless self is replaced by another person. Someone who is risk averse; the acrobatic chance taker/failure dodger. For instance:

I’m a Broadway actress with a shelf crowded with Tony awards.

I’m a rock star, or the wife of a rock star (take your pick), who continues to tour and performs to sold-out crowds.

I’m a mother. Twin boys and a girl.

I’m an entrepreneur who shattered the glass ceiling and owns six companies that are all publicly traded.

I’m a seasoned lecturer and public speaker.

I’m someone who looks refreshed and rested, at least ten years younger (but whose wallet is twenty-five thousand dollars lighter.)

I’m the winner of Dancing With The Stars, The Voice, the Apprentice, and Jeopardy (the celebrity edition).

I’m a mentor on America’s Top Model after having my face grace more magazine covers than any other living human being.

I am resting on my laurels.

~OR HOW ABOUT~

I’m an aging hippie who lives off the land up in Oregon.

I’m an aging New Ager who lives off tips in Hawaii.

I’m the aging owner of a brothel somewhere tolerant of that sort of thing.

I’m busking on the corners of Santa Cruz.

I’m the ex-wife of seven men.

I’m someone who never married, looks thirty-five and owns dozens of Siamese cats.

I’m living in a Villa in Italy after cashing out, buying a one-way ticket, and hooking up with a guy named Paulo.

I have photo albums filled with pictures of me bungee jumping, sky diving and formula one racing, climbing Mt. Everest, Deep sea diving and waving my certificate that states I am the top of my class in NASA astronaut training school.

I’ve changed my name to Solange.

After surveying this list. The list that was supposed to summon that pit in my stomach. You know, the one that makes you feel bad about yourself and feeds regret?

Instead I had an epiphany.

What if those things didn’t happen not so much because of a guts deficit — but due to a keen sense of the obvious as far as knowing what I was capable of — an inkling of my life’s trajectory — a ginormous helping of common sense?

Ha! Take that regret!

P.S. I HAVE done many things in my life that required a shit-ton of guts, and so have YOU—but THAT my friends, is a list for another day.

Got any regrets?

Carry On,
xox

A famous photo of Picasso and his Muse

SUPERFLUOUS
su·per·flu·ous
so͞oˈpərflo͞oəs/
adjective
unnecessary, especially through being more than enough.

synonyms: surplus, nonessential, redundant, unneeded, excess, extra,

As you all may or may not know, I am an intuitive writer, meaning: I sit in stillness and basically say to the great cosmic soup of writers that reside in the ethers, “What do you want to write today?”

After almost three years of supplying content for this blog just about EVERYDAY—I—the me that thinks she’s a writer, would have run dry of ideas a LONG time ago!

So I’m smart. I outsource my material to those that are wiser, braver and funnier than I could ever hope to be.

My Muses.

These experts literally mine my brain for life experiences and then craft a story around them utilizing my language skills, which as you know, means raw and real with plenty of f-bombs.

I don’t flatter myself to think that this is a new story specific to me.

Muses have been around since time immemorial, and I know that all of the great art and music, literature and any role that Meryl Streep has inhabited, has come into the world this way. Some of us middle-men (receivers) are just more aware of the process than others.

So that being said, I have been told lately by one Muse in particular, that my blog is superfluous. Okay…

By not knowing the exact meaning of the word I took it to mean insignificant, and THAT hurt my feelings.

How could that be so if they are the ones writing everyday?

Well, because they have moved me to explore other intuitive pursuits. I’ll get to those in a minute.

It means unnecessary because it’s more than enough, redundant, extra—NOT insignificant at all.
Note to self: Janet, next time grab a dictionary before you get upset, and remember—muses always pick the perfect word. Every single time. It’s uncanny.

Still I was confused.

You see, I thought my future would revolve around this blog.
A book, maybe three. Spoken word events with me telling the stories found here.
I have become so intertwined with this blog that I don’t know where it ends and my true self begins. The essence of my Muses has integrated to the point that they are me—and I am them.

What that means is that I am either mentally ill, (the jury is still out) or just a fucking great conduit (I vote for the latter).

“We bamboozled you” chortled the most prominent Muse recently while I was out on my walk. She is a recent addition. An overachieving, comedic, bossy pants who has hijacked…well, everything.

As you know, my walks often prompt conversations and ideas, even arguments between my Muses and me. “Oh you did, did you?” I responded, silently of course.

“We got to you through the writing, you were open and eager enough to accept us coming through that way”.

She was right. I had been fighting the process of accepting the involvement of disembodied, outside forces since the early nineties when they had first made themselves known to me.
Back then it scared the shit out of me.
Me? A channel? No fucking way!

Twenty years later they got smart. “We’ll tell her we’re Muses,” they conspired.

A writer with a Muse? Sure! okay! I can do that. And off I went, full speed ahead into the blogosphere.

Bamboozelment achieved.

That was 2012 and ever since then I have sat my ass in the chair every day and waited for them. And they always show up.

Here’s where it gets interesting.

Once you become an open conduit like that, it gets easier and easier for their thoughts to come through.
And not just when I’m in the chair. No, they chat away while I’m driving, in the shower, on my walks, going to sleep, waking up, even while I’m cooking.

There is a cacophony of—not really voices—but thoughts and opinions going through my head that I know are not my own. The difference is subtle, but I have been doing it long enough that I can differentiate who is who.

Sorry, I promised interesting and I can feel myself beating around the bush so here goes: People that have passed on, dead people, now talk to their loved ones (usually someone I know) through me. It’s really quite beautiful, not creepy in the least. The conversations, and they ARE conversations, are so filled with love and interesting, private information that they’ve even made the most skeptical among us—ME—a believer!

Also, in the last six months I have been introduced to the most brilliant, witty and profoundly deceased famous writer, who has captivated my imagination and bamboozled me into believing that my blog is superfluous and that our story, the story of the collaboration between she and I, which is mystical, and magical and hysterical—is my future.

That will be my book. That is the life that has chosen me.

She has been gracious enough to help write the dialogue for my musical, (that’s how she sucked up and gained my trust), she writes the best of my blog posts, and most recently she has been teaching me to write the screenplay of our relationship.

I don’t feel comfortable disclosing who it is yet. I’m sure I will sooner or later…Baby steps.

All this to say: The greatest impression she has made on me so far has been her sheer exuberance at being dead. She had NO idea it was so…interesting…and full of potential.

The fact that she continues to remain bossy, funny and highly opinionated; that she still gets to write via our collaboration, that she is able to focus on her loved ones, and reach out to people—has blown her mind—and subsequently, my own.

“Death has gotten such a bad rap” she reiterates over and over again laughing her wonderful laugh.

Don’t you love knowing that?

What a wild journey this life is, and I’m just beginning to see the purpose of it all.

Hope I didn’t freak you out too much, Carry on,
xox

It’s the little things in life that make me happy—that is while I’m waiting for the bigger things like world peace, a decent vegan cheese, and rain to fall in California.

Thank you, thank you, thank you Trader Joe’s for finally stocking peonies.

Now for those readers in Mauritania, Saudi Arabia, Brazil and all the other countries that read this blog, let me explain. I adore peonies; we can’t grow them here in So. Cal; and Trader Joe’s is the poor man’s Whole Foods.

It carries all sorts of unique varieties of food I’ve never heard of, let alone thought of sampling, hence, TJ’s (as us regulars call it) has made me a much more adventuresome eater over the years.

And while Whole Foods had a broader selection of gluten-free, vegan and organic foods; it is my humble opinion that if I were subjected to a blind taste test, EVERYTHING that was delicious, that my husband would eat, would originate at Trader Joe’s.

Plus, one cart full of food wouldn’t cost the equivalent of the gross national product of Andorra.

Just to prove my point, you must try their gluten-free chocolate chip cookies in the bag. They make me swoon and I’m not given to swooning over anything with the words gluten-free in the description.

That being said, I was feeling a tad let down lately by their blatant lack of peonies. You see I count on those six stem bouquets of loveliness to show their beatific, tight budded faces around March or April; so you can imagine my panic the last couple of weeks when I thought I had possibly missed their short annual visit.

It was a microcosm of the larger macrocosm of my life. ”Am I unlucky enough to have missed out on that thing I love that makes me happy?”

Hey! I wasn’t being completely batshit insane—it is late May you guys!

In my rat bastard of an imagination that sometimes sends my head adrift to places terrifying and massively disappointing, TJ’s had a literal plethora of peonies for five days back in March when I was confined to bed with a nasty head cold or even worse yet…the week my dog died and I couldn’t bring myself to shower let alone grocery shop.

That’s what I’ve been thinking the last four weeks or so. That I was the only one in the greater Los Angels area to have had the misfortune of missing the peony window at Trader Joe’s.

“These are such an amazing deal, better than at the flower mart,” enthused the woman next to me in a crowd of forty plus peony addicts. I kid you not. “They’re more than double this price,” she breathlessly informed me as she swiftly and expertly sorted through the various colors and conditions of the bunches.

Everyone knows you have to find the perfect bouquet. Of the six peonies in the bunch you want two to be half-open, two of them three-quarters open for color, and two in a tight bud to open later in the week.
You only get the ones that are open all the way for a dinner party that very night (and shame on you for waiting until the last-minute) because they will be unsightly the following morning. Opening all the way too soon, they go from gorgeous to ghastly—like a Catholic schoolgirl on a first date…

I suppose THAT should be the moral of this story…but it isn’t.

Here’s the point I want to make:
Take pleasure in the simple things;

Don’t be like me and worry that you are the sap that misses out on all the things that you love;

And for god sakes don’t sweat the small stuff;

And if you’re ever visiting from outside the U.S. it is imperative that you put Trader Joe’s and those chocolate chip cookies on your must see list.

That’s all, carry on,
xox

“What we regard as normality is our collective, protective madness, in which we repress the grim truth about the human condition.” – Ernest Becker

Why do I love thee Jason Silva? Huh? Explain…
xox

As my husband deftly backs our car out of the driveway I can see from my passenger seat’s, bird’s eye view, that he is once again thisclose to a couple of landscape lights that dot the path down to the street.

He’s darn close…closer than close…he’s pretty damn near on top of them…”Um, you’re getting pretty close to those lights” I interject nervously. I can’t help myself, even knowing full well what I will hear next. “No I’m not.”

And just like the thousands of times before, he makes it down the driveway with millimeters to spare.

Jackass or genius? I’m still not sure.
It makes my heart pound and turns me into a nervous wreak every time and I have to admit: one of these days I want one of those metal lights to peel back the side of the car like a freakin’ can opener.

I just want to be right!

What the fuck is that? Well you guys — its human nature, that’s what! Sometimes I just want to be right — no matter the cost. Geesh! Will I ever learn?

When the water main busted back in 2009 and spewed millions of gallons of water into my store I was certain it was the DWP’s problem. And the insurance company’s.

Through no fault of my own I had been put out of business overnight. I wanted people to pay. “Make it right you jerks.”

Four years, three lawsuits, thousands of sleepless nights, buckets of tears and hundreds of cases of wine later – we settled.

It cost me tens of thousands in attorney fees (the truth is, they are the only ones that make any money), it most certainly cost me my peace of mind, and it almost cost me my marriage.

I felt life had been ridiculously unfair and I just wanted justice. But I paid a huge price.

After that craptastrophe of bad choices and heartache, I was forced to reassess my life strategy. I looked for the nugget inside the shit.

Did I want to be right OR did I want to be happy?

I was operating under the flawed premise that big checks with lots of zeros and vindication would make me happy.

Only time and focusing my attention on the future instead of the past would eventually fill that happiness void.

AND…
I started studying The Path of Least Resistance.

What choices can I make now that will get me what I want and where I need to be, with the least amount of blood, sweat and tears.

That’s a concept, right?
What about “no pain, no gain?” What about standing up for whats right?
We erect statues and monuments to the warriors whose lives are fraught with struggle. Was that me? Was that the life I signed up for?

Fuck no! Not anymore.

Sometimes life isn’t fair, oftentimes we get dealt a raw deal, so do we make it worse you guys, by digging in and fighting the person or situation or do we get quiet, gain some clarity, some perspective, and then make the hard choices from that place?

I am in NO way advocating rolling over and playing dead, or throwing in the towel at the first hint of conflict!

If someone fucks you over by all means get compensation, but know this: you will NEVER get every dollar that is owed you and they will NEVER admit their guilt or say they’re sorry. EVER. And eventually…that has to be okay.

Listen, if you’re like me and you want justice and you want to be told “Oh, you’re right, we were horribly wrong, here’s what’s fair and oh, by the way, we are So sorry, ” it ain’t ever gonna happen.

Remember this is coming from a Pollyanna with sunshine up her ass.

I’m not cynical — I’m someone who learned the hard way that life would have been so much easier and in the long run happier, if I had just recouped what loses I could and then moved on with my life, instead of marinating in the deep, dark, treacherous cesspool of the legal system for four years —just to tell my sad story, get everyone’s sympathy, feel vindicated and get fully compensated — all which never happened by the way.

I have several people around me who are currently going through some incredibly difficult and unfair situations and this is the advice I’d offer…but only after they ask.

Start off with the best people around you. The no-shit takers—yours or anyone else’s. The most informed yet least vindictive experts you can find.

Have an endpoint in mind, a reasonable dollar amount, and a timeframe that doesn’t make your head explode.

Don’t fight for fighting’s sake, meaning, if at all possible don’t play mind games that incite rage (you know what I mean) and don’t let your own rage write emails, refuse to sign documents, negotiate, compromise or make deals.

Don’t let it bother you each time he pulls out of the driveway, and for Godsakes don’t wish a car wreak on him when he drives like a jackass.

Being right is highly over rated, hard on relationships, and wildly expensive. Take it from me.

Carry on you warriors,
xox

I wrote this back in February, but with all the changes afoot and mercury retrograde, and the fact that change is MESSY, I decided hat we all needed a little reminder that things often look awful just before they get good, so let’s celebrate that, okay?
On the private Facebook page of that kick-ass online business school I took last year, a post caught my eye.

I try not to read them.  I barely understand them.  I’m neither “cool” enough nor smart enough to be a part of this group.  I slid in through the side door, the “blogger” who created her own website and then limped off to throw up. I just barely recovered, my brain hurting from the overexertion.

Anyhow..
It was written by a young man, an aspiring entrepreneur, whose boyfriend had booked a fancy, shmancy weekend away.
They were headed to a beautiful warm weather resort, with massages, fine dining – the whole shebang.

The intention behind the trip, his boyfriend told him, was to celebrate his best year EVER.

In his endearing, aw shucks way, he admitted to us, his tribe of up and coming internet movers and shakers, that this had been less than a stellar year for him.

“I didn’t hob knob with the rich and famous this year” he said. “No high level meetings, no mastermind groups, no Ted talk or speaking engagements at all. Instead of multiple six figures, I lived off savings.”

He went on to explain that 2014 had been a year of reinvention for him.

He took what appeared to be a thriving business and changed it up, downsizing some things, while reinvesting in others. He went on to explain that he’d spent the whole year at his desk with his hands in the clay. “If anyone wanted to find me I wasn’t on the road as usual, running from event to event, I was at my desk, from dawn to dusk, and I have never grown and changed, and worked harder in all my fucking life.”

Would he have labeled it his best year EVER? Probably not. Because the yardstick we all use for that doesn’t take into account anything besides the money and fame.
The outside trappings of success.

But his boyfriend could see it. He understood. And he knew it needed to be celebrated. Don’t you just love that?

I could SOOOO relate!
I too have had the best/worst year of my life. By the standards set by society at large – it sucked.
But in laying the foundation, the hard work, the networking, perseverance, personal growth and general all around richness – it was my best year EVER!

My husband has witnessed the changes and repeatedly suggested that we celebrate them.

How lucky am I?

Wouldn’t it be great to pay homage to those years that don’t look so great from the outside but change us forever on the inside?
Because isn’t that what makes a person a true success?

Thoughts please?

Carry on,
xox

GRACE
ɡrās/
noun

1. Simple elegance or refinement of movement.
“she moved through the water with effortless grace”
synonyms: elegance, poise, gracefulness, finesse

2. (In Christian belief) the free and unmerited favor of God, as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of blessings.

verb
3. Do honor or credit to (someone or something) by one’s presence.
“she bowed out from the sport she has graced for two decades”
synonyms: dignify, distinguish, honor, favor

“Go out into the world and be a source of Grace for people.”
~ Caroline Myss

Shit. That’s a tall order, right? I can’t do that. Be a source of Grace? What does that even mean? I read the definition and I’m still not sure.

You guys, are we out in the world being a source of grace — or are we a part of the problem?

The first definition made me blanche. It does not apply to me AT ALL.
My movements are as far from refined as I can be without calling too much attention to myself. Remember how Elaine danced on Seinfeld? That’s how I move through the world. Every step is void of poise, there is not a drop of elegance to be found, and as far as finesse goes? — forgetaboutit.

So…Am I the source of grace in that respect? No, no I am not. I am definitely part of the problem.

As far as definition three goes, well, I feel like when we can, when the stars align and we have some free time — we show up for people. We do our best.
Actually some of us drop everything and Grace certain people or places with our presence TO OUR DETRIMENT, or at least I used to. Now a days I’m super picky about to whom and where my Grace gets distributed.

So again I suppose I’m part of the problem, except…Just like fucks given, Grace can be depleted (in my opinion, the studies are inconclusive) — you can over extend, you can run out, and you only get what you get.

But unlike fucks, Grace CAN be replenished by other people bestowing their Grace upon YOU.

So there you have it, there’s what I think Caroline Myss meant by being a source of Grace for people.

Sprinkle it around, like fairy dust, like a tall drink of water to the parched masses.

Replenish each other.

You know the people in your life that need a re-fill.

And you can recognize them on the street.

They look pale and hollow eyed, over tired, over wrought, over stressed and more than likely over weight. In other words they are just plain over it.

Wait. I’m so confused. Blah, blah, Grace. Blah, blah, replenish each other. So how do we do that?

And there’s where definition number two comes into play.
Bestow your blessings.
Being a source of Grace is about bestowing your blessings, and blessings, unlike fucks and Grace, come in an unlimited supply.

Blessings look like volunteering yourself for babysitting or dog walking.

Blessings look like filling the refrigerator of a workaholic.

Blessings are about picking up the check or leaving a thirty percent tip.

Blessings can hold open a door, clean up a mess, fold laundry, hold a hand, drive carpool, give a foot message and bring the wine (two bottles please).

Blessing are bountiful.
Blessings are bottomless, and in my humble opinion, blessings and the bestowal of them is what being a source of Grace is all about.

So easy peasy, right? Not such a tall order after all.
Whew! Sometimes this spiritual shit sounds SO undoable.

Whatcha think? Any more ideas for being source of Grace for people? I’d love to hear from you guys!

Carry on,
xox

This article By Dr. Robin Berman, associate professor of psychiatry at UCLA, is making its rounds on the internet. It originated on Goop and Danielle LaPorte also posted it (of course she did).

There are some extremely valuable insights and information below.
It is WELL worth the read-
xoxJanet

“I’ve heard the story countless times. A client comes in confused, hurt, and disheartened, wondering what happened to her fairytale romance that started off with such a bang. Invariably some combination of these words come next: “Prince Charming,” “soulmate,” “man of my dreams,” “swept me off my feet,” “attentive,” “charismatic”…”so all in.”

I am a psychiatrist, not a psychic, but I can predict what comes next: The relationship spirals downward and this so-perfect-he-can’t-possibly-be-real man morphs into something else entirely. Often, something much more disturbing. He needs endless attention, yet nothing she does makes him happy. Everything she says is wrong, as he’s easily injured or angered. She starts to feel very alone in the relationship, confused, and unmoored. What’s worse, she might feel like she’s somehow to blame—that she should work even harder to please.

Often, the dynamics play out more insidiously. You talk about an issue, and your partner relates it immediately to something that happened to him; your story fades as his takes over. Or you and your partner disagree and somehow you end up second-guessing yourself, as if dissent threatens his very well-being. Any needs you communicate that aren’t in line with his may be thrown back at you as a character flaw. For instance, you tell your boyfriend you won’t be able to get together on your usual date night because of work, and his comeback is: “You’re just not available for a serious commitment right now, and I want a real relationship.” Suddenly you have a global problem and he is a victim. What a head-trip.

“NARCISSISTS TAKE EVERYTHING SO PERSONALLY BECAUSE UNDERNEATH THEIR GRANDIOSE BRAVADO LURKS PROFOUND SELF-LOATHING—THEY NEED TO BE SHORED UP BY CONSTANT EXTERNAL PRAISE.”

If this all sounds familiar, perhaps you, too, are living with or dating a narcissist. The big, charming personality is typical of narcissists. Initially quite likable, they capture everyone’s attention. When they shine their light on you, it is easy to fall hard.

But that fall becomes painful when other narcissistic traits make themselves known. Narcissists are hypersensitive to any perceived critique. Feedback other than flattery feels like a slight and can trigger extreme anger. They feel deeply injured by criticism and have an excessive need for praise and admiration. Any time you express your honest feelings, you might stumble into your partner’s emotional quicksand. This is not what real love feels like.

Falling in love may put you off balance, but standing in love firmly grounds you. An absolute essential ingredient of a good relationship is emotional safety—you need to feel safe to be the real you! But it is very difficult to be yourself when you have such an emotionally volatile partner. Narcissists are often arrogant, self-important, and devoid of empathy. They are so in their own world they can’t even see you. It’s hard to stand in someone else’s shoes when you can’t see past your own. Narcissists see you not as you, but more as an extension of themselves.

To be seen and adored for who you really are, though, is the highest form of romance. I once heard that the word intimacy can be broken down into the words “IN TO ME YOU SEE.” It is so difficult for the narcissists in your life to truly see you and get you because they are focused on themselves. Their needs steamroll over yours. Talking about how you feel becomes exhausting and frustrating because they can’t truly appreciate your perspective and because you have to sugarcoat everything to not set them off.

“IF HE EASILY CONDEMNS THOSE HE PREVIOUSLY CHERISHED, CHANCES ARE THAT DARK LIGHT WILL SHINE ON YOU AT SOME POINT, TOO.”

A patient once told me this story: “When I was newly married, we saw the movie Inception. When we walked out of the theater and I said I didn’t like it, my husband flew into a rage. ‘What?! We love thought provoking movies! How could you not get that story?!’ I remember thinking ‘Who is we?’ His reaction was so full of wrath, I was scared to speak up. From that point on, more and more pieces of my true self went silent.”

This exemplifies how quickly the benign can become malignant and destroy emotional safety. Even disagreeing about what you think of a movie can trigger your partner’s disapproval or anger. Living with or dating narcissists feels like you have to tiptoe around minefields and are constantly on guard to not set them off. Narcissists take everything so personally because underneath their grandiose bravado lurks profound self-loathing—they need to be shored up by constant external praise. Their fuel is admiration, and they need you to reflect their magnificence because they truly don’t feel it themselves. Being that perfect, flattering mirror is depleting, and after awhile, your needs become enmeshed with theirs. You lose sight of where they end and you start. You become so busy shoring up the narcissist that you have nothing left for yourself. You tend to disappear.

Meanwhile, as you are doing all that work to build up your partner, he or she may be busy tearing others down. The classic example comes from Snow White and the narcissistic Evil Queen. Maleficent needs constant reassurance from her Magic Mirror that she, indeed, is the fairest of them all. But once Snow White comes into the picture, Maleficent feels threatened by the competition and sets out to destroy her.

“YOU MAY HOLD ONTO THE FANTASY THAT IF YOU SHORE THEM UP ENOUGH, THEY WILL EVENTUALLY GET AROUND TO TAKING CARE OF YOU, TOO. UNFORTUNATELY, MORE OFTEN THAN NOT, THIS WON’T BE THE CASE.”

In real life, narcissists need to cut down others to build themselves up. Even when you are in the glow of a new relationship, and the charm offensive is blindingly bright, watch for clues that all may not be well. If he needs to criticize others to show how grand he is by comparison, he will likely do the same to you. Besides noticing how he treats the people around him, look at his history. Is it filled with long-term friendships or littered with relationships—romantic or business—in which he has inevitably been wronged? If he easily condemns those he previously cherished, chances are that dark light will shine on you at some point, too. The narcissist who keeps himself elevated by putting down others eventually might become competitive even with you.

Narcissists hoard attention, interrupt conversations so that they can steer it back to themselves, and are more concerned with their feelings than anyone else’s. Their theme song is, “Enough about me, let’s get back to me.” If you are living with a full-fledged narcissist, you know first-hand how this can interfere with their ability to relate to you and to your kids.

“My marriage was great before we had kids. I knew that my husband needed a lot of attention, but I never realized how much, until I stopped giving it to him in the usual doses, because I was so busy caring for our baby. I could no longer be so focused on him. Our relationship got ugly fast.”

Before having children you had more energy to attend to the narcissist. Some narcissists feel threatened and jealous of the attention that you devote to your kids; other narcissists use their children to feed their ego; and others are so preoccupied with themselves that they completely neglect their kids. Of course, all of these are detrimental for a child.

“THE JOURNEY TO DISCOVERING YOUR AUTHENTIC SELF REQUIRES YOU TO GET PAINFULLY HONEST TO WORK THOUGH YOUR DISTRESSING FEELINGS.”

Disagreeing with a narcissist or working through issues is extremely difficult. In addition to their inability to see your point of view, they cannot own their stuff. Their extreme defensiveness shuts down their ability to learn, and that impinges on your ability to grow as a couple. Narcissists simply do not make good partners.

You may hold on to the fantasy that if you shore them up enough, they will eventually get around to taking care of you, too. Unfortunately, more often than not, this won’t be the case. But if part of life’s journey is knowing yourself, the narcissist in your life can be a great teacher. The journey to discovering your authentic self requires you to get painfully honest to work though your distressing feelings. Here are some questions that can lead you to clarity and help you figure out whether you just need more tools to cope, or you really need to extricate yourself.

TOUGH QUESTIONS
Why did you pick him or her? Does she remind you of the way you were loved by one or both parents? Have you just unknowingly repeated the scene of the original crime—your own childhood? Or are you trying, with your partner, to have a happier ending than you did with your parents?

Are you depressed? Swallowing anger and hiding your real self can lead to depression.

Are you exhausted from tap dancing around someone’s fragility? Do your constant attempts to please him require a hyper-vigilance that is draining? Are you working to hide your partner’s volatility and fragile ego from your kids and your friends?

Are you seeing things as they are, or are you making constant excuses? Try to get an honest picture of what’s going on. Don’t skew the data.

Do you feel like your needs are constantly overshadowed in spite of all of your efforts to communicate them? Have things gotten so bad that you’ve stopped trying to communicate them because it feels pointless? Or is there safe space for your feelings?

Are you being gaslighted? Narcissists have a tendency to deny things they said, or claim they said something else. They rewrite history. They are unaware of the impact they are having on you or others. This is crazy-making. Beware of this distortion and don’t buy into it.

Does your partner have a history of healthy, intimate relationships? Or is there a long-standing pattern of unstable relationships, whether romantic, friendly, or professional? History doesn’t lie, so pay attention to it.

How do you feel when you are with your partner: Separate and whole, or enmeshed and sucked in to their drama? Does being around your partner make you feel peaceful or on edge?

Since living with or dating a narcissist, do you feel like you are a better version of yourself? Take a moment to compare how you feel about yourself before you met your partner, and now.

PROTECT YOURSELF
A. ASSESS

Is this relationship worth saving? Be honest, how extreme is your partner’s narcissism—is it just a few traits, or is it more encompassing? Full-blown narcissism (see chart below) is hard to live with. A few traits can be manageable. If you choose to work on the relationship, know that at any time, the healthiest choice may be to leave.

In assessing the extent of the problem, be cautious when you see hints of a more evolved partner. Recognize whether these moments are fleeting or a bigger piece of the picture. Don’t make too much of the glimpses of improvement. Manage your expectations. The narcissist in your partner likely will not disappear. Unless there is consistent growth, decide if a sporadic connection is enough to sustain you.

B. SET PARAMETERS FOR STAYING

If you decide to stay in the relationship, both of you must recognize the problem and the role each of you plays in perpetuating it. Also, and this is crucial, he must commit to getting professional help in working to change his behavior. In a therapist’s office, as time makes him feel safe, he can get underneath the mask of grandiosity and access his true feelings. Then, ultimately, he can learn to replace the harsh self-critique with self-compassion, which is where real healing takes place.

If your partner is a full-blown narcissist and doesn’t want to get help or work on it, this should be a deal breaker. If you’re married to a narcissist, realize that you can’t fix him. No matter how much you try, his actual healing is going to have to come from within. No amount of external shoring up will ever be enough. Don’t make fixing a narcissist your life’s work. You have a different journey, one that is more inspired than repairing your partner.

• If you’re dating someone you suspect is a narcissist, tread carefully. What makes a great date may not make a great mate.

• If the narcissist in your life is getting help, remember it may be two steps forward and one step back. Give yourself a deadline so that years don’t elapse, leaving you in a perpetually dysfunctional relationship.

• Although it is likely your narcissistic partner loves you in his own way and does give you something—for instance, he makes life exciting, he’s vivacious and flattering—in the end, his own limitations may prevent him from consistently giving you the love you need. It may be 10% his affirming you in exchange for 90% you affirming him.

C. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

If progress is being made, you need to take care of you. Shore yourself up with a strong support network. Make sure that you have close friends that you feel safe enough with to share your truth—great girlfriends, a good therapist, a spiritual leader. Don’t screen the story; share it unfiltered. Speaking the truth is quite liberating.

• Learn to notice and take care of your needs, maybe for the first time.

• Set boundaries clearly, calmly, and firmly. Know where you begin and where he ends. Start small. It’s OK to not like the same movies. You don’t need to change your opinions to placate him. You may take flack for standing up for yourself. Don your invisible armor so that if he overreacts, you’re clear that it’s about him, not you.

• Work through your own anger to have empathy for the narcissist in your life. He never got what he needed, and his self-hatred is much greater than his self-love, even though it appears to be the opposite. Have massive amounts of empathy for yourself and compassion for your partner. And know that understanding him doesn’t have to mean staying in the relationship.

* Listen to your intuition, that deep place of knowing. You deserve to be happy, free, and at peace. You deserve safe and unconditional love!

WHAT’S YOUR REAL LOVE STORY?
When it comes to romance, listen to your head and your heart. In healthy partnerships, both vital organs are aligned. Good relationships free your true spirit. They allow you to exhale with ease into feeling safe and cherished. To quote one of my dearest friends, a good partnership is an “elevator.” It brings out your best self. It does not force you to bury parts of yourself. You want a partnership in which you can not only fall in love, but then stand and ultimately grow in love.

Now that is what I call happily ever after.

Robin Berman, MD, is an Associate Professor of Psychiatry at UCLA and author of “Permission to Parent: How to Raise Your Child with Love and Limits.”

CRITERIA FOR DIAGNOSING NARCISSITIC PERSONALITY DISORDER
Narcissism exists on a spectrum from a person who has a few traits to someone who meets the full criteria for a personality disorder. Full-fledged narcissism is a pervasive pattern of grandiosity (in fantasy or behavior), need for admiration, and lack of empathy, beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by five (or more) of the following:

Has a grandiose sense of self-importance (e.g., exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognized as superior without commensurate achievements).

Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love.

Believes that he or she is “special” and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people (or institutions).

Requires excessive admiration.

Has a sense of entitlement (i.e., unreasonable expectations of especially favorable treatment or automatic compliance with his or her expectations).

Is interpersonally exploitative (i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends).

Lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings and needs of others.

Is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him or her.

Shows arrogant, haughty behaviors or attitudes”
Dr. Robin Berman

Narcissist