narcissism – Half-Blood Kuwaiti

You’re Not Spiritual, You’re Just an Asshole

Ten years ago, if I had met someone who told me they were on a spiritual journey, I would have been enthralled. Now, I’m more likely to run the other way. It’s not that I hate spirituality. I think it’s amazing. I even follow @theholisticpsychologist, although sometimes I wish I didn’t. It’s just that when I think of a spiritual person, I think of someone humble, deep, and capable of experiencing life on a whole different level. What I usually get is someone who hates their father and is too busy finding themselves to commit to lunch plans.

It just seems like spirituality has become a trend, and while a helpful philosophy becoming popular should be a good thing, that tends to not be what happens. Whenever something becomes mainstream, it automatically loses a lot of its nuance. It has to in order to be accessible to average people who haven’t looked at the subject in depth and probably aren’t interested in making radical changes to their lives. Susan who practices five minutes of daily mindfulness wants to reduce her anxiety, not find the source of all human suffering.

It’s not bad to simplify concepts to help a normal person live a better life. But we have to be careful. While we acknowledge that religion can easily be misused or misapplied, spirituality isn’t regarded with the same suspicion (despite spawning its own fair share of sexual predators).

One of the first problems with the current discourse around self-help and spirituality is that the same messages are being sent to very different people, who may not have enough self-awareness to determine what applies to them and what doesn’t. There is a lot of focus on being yourself, saying no, and not being responsible for other people’s feelings. That’s exactly what some people need to hear. However, it’s not as many people as you might think, despite the vast number who will tell you their toxic trait is “being too nice.” After all, the problems in our lives tend not to be caused by having too many unselfish people around us. Many people would benefit from being less self-centered—being encouraged to help others and think less about their own desires. When only the first message is circulated, everyone picks it up, and what happens is much like when a narcissist or psychopath sees a therapist. They don’t change, they just learn how to dress up their self-centered behavior in fancy words that make it harder for others to argue with. Disagree with someone like this and expect it to be labeled gaslighting, shutting down all further discussion because a difference of opinion is now a psychological manipulation tactic. Expect a certain standard of behavior from them, and you will be treated like you’re codependent, trying to change them, or too attached to whatever aspect of the conventional world best dismisses your point. To the toxic woke person, the only emotionally healthy people are those who don’t ask anything of them.

The second big problem is that the spiritual quest is often seen as seeking your authentic self, but what gets left out is that the authentic self in a spiritual sense is the part of you that is closest to God or a higher power. It’s not your personality or anything we mean by the self in the usual context. Monks and nuns sometimes practice cultivating an inner and outer silence in order to more clearly hear the voice of God in their heads. You probably know the voice they’re referring to even if you wouldn’t describe it as God. Essentially, the personality needs to be subdued for the higher self to emerge. This means abandoning your ego and surrendering to something greater than yourself. When this distinction about the meaning of the true self is lost and you remove the connection to some type of higher power, even if it’s just the universe, the result is a radical change in purpose. The end goal becomes you and figuring out what you want. But the destination at the end of the journey should not be you. It should be letting go of you.

This isn’t because it makes you a better person or more pleasant to be around, although it does both of those things. It’s because this is how spirituality will make you happier in the end. The person who goes for a walk in the woods or sits by the ocean and feels lighter and freer feels that way because they’ve been reminded of how unimportant their own worries are compared to the vastness of the universe. They feel small and insignificant, but not in a bad way, because they are also a part of the world that has just left them wonderstruck. This person has just let go of a bit of their ego and felt connected to something more important.

These are the things that bring a person peace–connection to something more, seeing our problems with perspective, feeling that we bring something of value to the world, loving and being loved, and being in control of ourselves. None of these things are easy, but any path towards fulfillment that doesn’t include them is going to be incomplete.

For some reason, spirituality has a reputation for being Religion Lite—all the fuzzy feelings associated with it without the annoying parts. No rules, only vibes. In reality, spirituality is the purpose behind the rules of religion. In his book The Perennial Philosophy, Aldous Huxley discusses the concepts all religions have in common, and it’s not things like having one god or respecting your parents. It’s that rules and spiritual practices like praying and fasting are designed with the goal of diminishing your ego so that you submit to the will of God. All religions are meant to achieve this. People would rather argue about what the rules are or whose rules are better than look at the big picture, which is that the rules are there to teach you discipline. This matters more than the rules themselves.

I don’t say this to glorify religion. I just say it to illustrate that the idea of the spiritual path being easier than the religious one is based on a misunderstanding. Spirituality is the ultimate goal of religion and choosing it means taking responsibility for your own development instead engaging in rituals mindlessly. This is actually harder than just being religious. The spiritual person prays because they know it’s good for them. The religious person prays because they think God will punish them. For most people, threats are much more effective.

Spirituality that brings you only to yourself and your desires isn’t real. Any philosophy that results in you focusing on your own feelings all the time isn’t going to make you a better person. It can be necessary somewhere along your path to go through a period of self-absorption, but the purpose of understanding your trauma and emotions isn’t so that you can indulge them—it’s so that you overcome them. The next step should be moving forward.

If that next step isn’t reached, if the goal is focusing on the self for its own sake, you will get the problems we see around us. People will break commitments because being authentic to their (passing) feelings takes precedence. They will mis-interpret self-acceptance as an excuse to never grow, and a reason why no one should ever criticize them. Boundaries will be set from a place of avoidance instead of courage. You might have met examples of this in real life, perhaps in friends who think they should never be uncomfortable, or men who tell you how unenlightened you are when you ask them to stop sleeping with other people.

This type of spirituality involves avoiding discomfort rather than facing it, except perhaps the discomfort in cutting off relatives who vote Republican. I think we should bring back the type of spirituality people have to suffer for. What happened to meditating forty days under a tree, giving up your worldly possessions, or taking a vow of silence? Some monks clean as a form of meditation. In certain convents nuns are not allowed to look at themselves in the mirror to discourage vanity. Most people now would say, “There’s no real point to doing these things,” not understanding that the whole point is that it’s difficult. Doing hard things changes you, or at least teaches you something. I don’t believe you need to go to these lengths to develop a beneficial level of spirituality in your life, but if I’m going to be taking advice from someone, I’d rather take it from the person who spent a year challenging themselves than the person who spent a year doing whatever they wanted.

Human beings are better off when they don’t make themselves their own gods, usually because they aren’t very good at it. Much like children, we are happier with limits than when we follow our every whim. Relying on a consistent set of principles frees you from the burden of constantly evaluating your inner state to determine what to do next. And understanding how little we can control, even about our own futures, puts us in the frame of mind to accept what happens with grace. Religious people are often happier because they have given up the burden of believing they are the ultimate authority on their lives. Whatever is planned for them may be what’s best, even if it isn’t what they thought they wanted.

In the end, the easy way out is never real. Selfish people will always find a way to continue being selfish if they want to, so perhaps blaming it on poorly explained spirituality isn’t going to change them. But maybe looking at a more nuanced perspective will help the people who encounter them. Don’t be impressed or guilted when someone hits you with words that could have been picked up from the explore page of Instagram. Instead look at their actions. Is their life a good example of strong values? Has their brand of spirituality changed them for the better? Perhaps more importantly, has it affected the people around them positively? If not, smile, nod, and run the other way. The wolf who admits he is a wolf can be dealt with. The wolf who believes himself to be a sheep is impossible.

How To Pick The Perfect Toxic Boyfriend For You

I wanted to make the title gender neutral, but it wasn’t as catchy. I guess complaining about men just has a certain ring to it that’s hard to replicate.

That’s actually not my intention here at all, though. Everyone can be toxic; I’m just writing from my perspective because it’s easier for me. And this post is not about how horrible your boyfriend is. He may very well be pretty bad, but that’s an essay (or book) for you to write. My point is this: Someone else’s toxic behavior is not your fault, but emotionally healthy people don’t accept chronic mistreatment in a romantic relationship.

Are you emotionally healthy? Probably not. Do you want to fix that? Eh, maybe in theory. But on an unconscious level, that’s probably your worst nightmare! This fascinating video first opened my eyes to the idea that we purposely seek out toxic relationships so that we can blame something external for the pain we feel inside of us. The pain was always there, but now we don’t have to take responsibility for it. I don’t know about you, but that seems like the perfect arrangement to never face any of my own issues again.

On the other hand, going through one of the relationships detailed below is a great way to make literally everything else less frightening in comparison. Therapy, loneliness, and acknowledging your mother may have been right about you are usually terrifying prospects. But like most unpleasant things, they’re still much better than dating a psycho.

So, whether you want to remain in denial or seek out pain for the purposes of growth, keep reading. I will help you find the man who perfectly complements your own issues.

The Sadist (And Not In A Good Way)

This man has a diminished capacity for empathy. He would never describe himself as cruel, but when someone lets their feelings take precedence over everything else, cruelty is often the result. He probably prides himself on being brutally honest and having high standards. You will never live up to them. Eventually you will realize that he doesn’t live up to them either. He thinks it’s sweet when you give up things that make you happy because this means you really love him. His love language is blood and tears. But only yours.

He’s perfect for you if you have a victim complex. His behavior will fuel hours of complaints like, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” and, “I’m so nice to him but he doesn’t appreciate me!” Eventually you and your friends will conclude that you just care too much. You’re just too nice. No one will suggest that this is actually a deep-seated issue and that you fear you have nothing to offer in a healthy relationship where both people are nice, or, God forbid, the other person is actually nicer than you. Cue Identity Crisis.

In general, deciding your problem is that you care too much is not adequate self-reflection. It’s like saying you’re a perfectionist when they ask you about your weaknesses in a job interview. It’s more likely your problem is that you really need to believe you care too much.

The Overgrown Baby

This delight needs far more attention than the average adult. He doesn’t just expect you to be his mother, but maybe his father too. You’ll shop for him, make sure he eats properly, and smother him to the point where any normal person would run. He is the college boyfriend who always gets you to do his homework. Some babies even expect you to take care of them financially. If that’s the case, congratulations. You have found a grade-A baby.

He’s perfect for you if you have a void in your life and would rather fill it with a person than meaningful goals. He’s basically a part or full-time job, so you will never feel aimless again. He’s also great if you completely lack self-esteem and believe all you have to offer others is favors. This man needs you, which is perfect because you don’t trust someone to simply want you. Your love language is acts of service. But only your own.

Some of the same points above apply here as well. You don’t care too much, you just care too little about yourself.

The Unavailable Man

He may not be someone you actually date. You might just stalk him a lot from a distance and feel like that constitutes a kind of relationship. He could also be the commitment-phobe you never tie down or have a significant other that he cheats on with you. Bonus points if he’s married. It’s difficult to describe this man in detail because his defining trait is that you don’t really know what he’s like in a committed relationship. He’s unwilling to give that to you. He might happily give that to someone else. Just not you.

He’s perfect if you have a deep-seated fear of vulnerability. By never being available, he allows you to convince yourself that if he were, you would have no commitment issues of your own. You’re just waiting for the love of your life to come around, and then everything will be perfect. In reality, if you genuinely wanted a relationship, you wouldn’t waste your energy on someone out of reach. But you don’t. You want a fantasy because it’s safer. Your love language is lying to yourself.

The Loser

This man may not really be a bad guy, but in the eyes of whatever society you’re in, he’s not a success. He disappoints your parents, gets sucked into pyramid schemes, and makes unfortunate hairstyle choices. His mother thinks he has a lot of potential and hopes you will be the girl who inspires him to live up to it.

He’s perfect if you’re desperate. You just want a man, any man, even one with questionable personal hygiene. Anything is better than being alone. If this is your case, I suggest you go for someone unfairly considered a loser. Give chances to the ugly, the mentally impaired, or the homeless. But even if there is nothing really wrong with the man, he is defined by the fact that deep down, you feel like he is beneath you. And you prefer it that way because he is less likely to leave you.

In an ironic twist of events, dating you may raise his self-esteem and inspire him to upgrade. Your love language is fruitless attempts to control.

This is not an exhaustive guide to toxic men. That is impossible because new ones are being born every minute. If you don’t find your issues here, please feel free to explain them in the comments. I hope you feel after reading this that there really is someone for everyone. Happy hunting.

Lessons in Toxic Love, Learned From My Cat

close up photo of tabby cat — Pacto Visual on Unsplash

I like cats, in theory. They are independent enough to not bother you, but affectionate enough to make you feel loved. They’re aloof, which gives you unconsciously pleasant validation of your low self-image, but they aren’t human enough to vocalize their disdain in a manner reminiscent of your childhood caregivers. It’s the perfect balance.

But in reality, cats are narcissists, and like their human counterparts, they are manipulative, capable of smelling fear, and inexplicably attractive to me.

A few nights ago, I lay in bed asleep with my cat curled up on my chest. Not the most comfortable situation, but I thought it was sweet, until she reached out and clawed my face. Then I realized my favorite animal is far too much like my favorite type of human. They both present love as something that slowly cuts off your oxygen supply. I thought about this for a while, and the result of that profound introspection is the following: a list of signs that you may be in a toxic relationship, inspired by my experience with cats:

You travel for a month and return to find they didn’t miss you, barely remember you, and have started sleeping with your brother.

To be fair, I have never met a human who did this. But I credit my brother for that more than anything else.

They give you crap, and you clean it up, spritz the room with air freshener, and say, “This is great.”

We don’t own cats; we don’t have real authority over anything that successfully commands us to flush their toilet for them. But sometimes we give someone love, and they respond with a metaphorical litter box. Love is cleaning this up, we say. Maybe, but it’s delusional to think there won’t be poop in it again the next day.

You aren’t appreciated for the nice things you do, only punished if you stop doing them.

Spoiling someone is much easier than un-spoiling them. Have you ever put a cat on a diet? I was once responsible for my sister’s cat when she traveled, and he had been on a diet ever since she decided to bring him to Kuwait and discovered he exceeded the weight limit for hand luggage. I was supposed to enforce it.

She warned me that he could be very persuasive in his attempts to get food. Multiple times, if my hair was in a ponytail, he would bite it and attempt to drag me towards his food bowl. There was never a reward for feeding him. Slowly, he trained me to see the few moments of relief before his next attack as an expression of love.

He has a lot to answer for.

You unconsciously start congratulating yourself on how tolerant you are.

I know there are many reasons why people put up with mistreatment, and it’s not always because it feeds their self-image of being a nice, accepting person. But sometimes it’s a factor. I was very proud of the everything I endured while babysitting. At one point, the cat sunk his teeth into my arm, and I decided to record a video. I wanted evidence of what I was putting up with. How long would he keep biting me if I didn’t stop him? It turned out to be around 30 seconds. Now everyone will see what’s wrong with this animal, I thought.

No one said that. They said, “What’s wrong with you for letting him bite you like that?”

They jump into your lap within a few moments of meeting you.

How sweet, I thought. You must really love me. I should take you home immediately.

And I did. I adopted my cat a few days later for exactly that reason. And all she wanted was a warm place to sleep, which is only flattering for a limited amount of time, until you realize exactly what it means.

I have not slept in peace since. There is no part of my body she has not turned into a pillow. If I sleep on my side, she balances precariously on my hip bone, somehow convinced that if she just wills it strongly enough, I will not move a millimeter. Although that may be preferable to what a human would expect in the same situation, it’s not exactly easy.

They hurt you constantly even if they don’t mean to.

It’s not a cat’s fault they have claws. They don’t mean to scratch you when they walk across your arm or knead your leg. But it still happens. There’s no point in saying it doesn’t. You wouldn’t refuse to bandage a cut just because it was an accident, so why do we pretend an emotional wound isn’t there just because no one intended to give it to us? It’s not always that one person or the other is toxic; it’s the combination. Wish them peace, then give it to yourself.

Sometimes you just need to get a dog.