The hardest lessons I have learned were taught through being with a narcissist. But looking back, it’s also been God’s biggest blessing… and here is why.
The Purge: Clarity and Chemicals
Let me tell you something about clarity. Going on four years of freedom from alcohol changes the chemicals of your brain. I’m sure there is a lot of science to back up what I just said—and I implore you to do your own research—but for me, it was about finally being able to see.
There is actual science behind this: alcohol specifically affects the prefrontal cortex—the part of the brain responsible for complex decision-making, social behavior, and discernment.
God has always given me the gift of discernment, but for a long time, alcohol clouded that gift. It was like owning a high-powered telescope but trying to look through a lens covered in mud; the gift was there, but I could only use a fraction of it. As my body was purging physical toxins through a brutal battle with my gallbladder, I didn’t realize God was also cleaning that lens. When the fog of alcohol finally lifted, my “discernment radar” finally got the power it needed to FULLY function.
The Test: The Pirate and the Empty Vase
By June 2022, I was very early into a relationship that would become my biggest life lesson. I saw red flags, but because I was still adjusting to my new clarity, he was able to convince me they were just “trust issues” from my divorce. He told me it was “all in my head.” That was the beginning of the lies.
But there was one moment when the veil was ripped back. I was sitting on his sofa, devastated and crying after finding out my 40-year-old cousin had unexpectedly and suddenly died. It was a shock to the entire family. When I told him, he simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “People die.”
Literally a few hours later—while I was still on that same sofa, still processing that grief—the news broke that the “great” Coach Mike Leach had died. This was someone my partner had no relationship with, yet suddenly, he was overflowing with performative emotion. He wouldn’t stop talking about what a “tragedy” it was and how the world lost a great man. Like WHAT??
Right then, I knew. I did not want this man sitting next to me at either of my parents’ future funerals. He begged me to try couples counseling, claiming empathy “can be taught.” Even the counselor wiggled in their chair and couldn’t give me a straight answer on that one.
The Revelation: A Posture of the Heart
Through years of observation, I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on this. I’ve often heard it said by those trying to navigate their way through the world that they “struggle with empathy” or that they are “trying to learn how to be empathetic.” But after much prayer and observation, I’ve realized a hard truth: Empathy is not a skill you can check off a list. It is a posture of the heart.
We all fail. We are human, and we all misjudge people or situations from time to time. But there is a difference between a human mistake and a fundamental lack of capacity. I have watched people be cold-hearted about the struggles of others for decades. I used to think I saw “glimpses” of empathy in them when they were sick or incapacitated, but I see now that was just short-lived compassion for their own situation.
The Bible doesn’t use the word “empathy,” but the definition is marked throughout scripture:
- Romans 12:15: “Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep.”
- 1 Corinthians 12:26: “If one part suffers, every part suffers with it.”
It is about matching the emotional frequency of others. People who lead only with ego lack the capability of emotional evolution beyond “self.” Asking someone like that to put themselves in another’s shoes is like asking a four-year-old to perform differential equations—the capacity simply hasn’t been developed.
My Prayer for You
If you are sitting on that sofa right now — the one where you cried and got nothing back — I want you to know that the coldness you felt was real. The absence was real. You are not too sensitive. You are not too much. You are simply in the wrong room. God doesn’t ask you to fill empty vessels. He asks you to find your people. Trust that they exist. Trust that you will find them.