Is Everyone A Narcissist Now?
Lately, it seems as though everyone is suddenly a narcissist.
A difficult boss? Narcissist.
An ex who cheated? Narcissist.
A mother who never apologises? Definitely a narcissist.
But is that really true?
Because not everything that looks like narcissistic behaviour is actually narcissism. Someone can be defensive, never apologise, struggle to listen, project their feelings onto others, or be emotionally unavailable without having Narcissistic Personality Disorder. I'll be the first to admit that I've done many of those things myself—especially with the people I loved most. Yet I'm far from being a narcissist.
Good people sometimes do hurtful or foolish things, often out of fear or simply because they don't know any better. That doesn't make them bad people.
The longer I spend on this Earth School, talking to people and hearing their stories, the more I realise that every single one of us has experienced pain and found ways to adapt to it. Some people learn to make themselves bigger so they no longer have to feel vulnerable or powerless. Others learn to make themselves smaller, hoping that life—or other people—won't hurt them anymore. More often than not, we switch between these strategies depending on the situation, simply trying to find love, connection and safety.
Eventually, many of us become trapped in our own survival strategies. We wear masks, and so much of our behaviour comes from the part of us that is simply trying to feel safe in a world that can sometimes feel confusing and unpredictable.
Not from love. But from fear.
That is why, personally, I have found the concept of emotional immaturity far more helpful.
We are all born into a particular family, in a particular time, with our own unique temperament. None of us chooses the family system we grow up in, yet all of us are shaped by it. Personally, I believe every family carries both gifts and shadows. We don't get to choose which ones we inherit. We simply learn to work with what we've been given.
That is why I've gradually stopped thinking in terms of "good" or "bad" people. Instead, I see different levels of awareness, emotional development and self-reflection.
With Narcissistic Personality Disorder, the capacity for self-reflection is often severely limited. As a result, people rarely seek help on their own, and meaningful change is usually much more difficult than it is with emotional immaturity. But most people are simply human beings, each walking their own path of growth and development.
For me, the biggest difference lies in one thing: Self-reflection.
Can you honestly look at yourself and say:
"Yes. I did that. It wasn't okay. I'm sorry that I hurt you."
One of the things that helped me most during my own healing journey was discovering that I wasn't the only one. When I started reading books about emotionally immature parents, I came across sentences that made me stop in my tracks. "This can't be real... these are the exact words my parents used." It almost felt as though someone had found an old script and was reading it aloud. For the first time, I realised I wasn't crazy. I wasn't alone. Children all over the world grow up hearing remarkably similar things. Not because their parents are all bad people... but because unconscious survival patterns often express themselves in surprisingly similar ways. I began to see how these old patterns and unconscious coping mechanisms can be passed down from one generation to the next. And strangely enough, that helped me stop taking their behaviour so personally.
To me, the word narcissist often feels like the end of the conversation. As though the moment we apply the label, curiosity disappears. Emotional immaturity feels different. Not softer, just more human. It leaves room for responsibility, self-awareness and—if someone is willing—growth.
That doesn't mean harmful behaviour has no consequences. It doesn't mean someone is safe. It doesn't mean you have to stay in contact. And it certainly doesn't mean you shouldn't set boundaries. But for me, it does mean trying to keep seeing the human being behind the behaviour. Not because it makes the pain any smaller. But because it helps explain it. And because it leaves room for something I deeply believe in: Growth.
I want to understand why people do what they do, without denying the impact of their behaviour.
I'm not trying to deny that narcissism exists. I'm trying to prevent us from reducing people to a single label.
Because once someone says, "He's a narcissist." Curiosity often stops.
A far more interesting question is: "What am I actually seeing here?"
To me, that may be one of the most beautiful definitions of mature love. Not excusing everything. Not condemning everything.
But remaining curious enough to see the person behind the behaviour... while at the same time taking good care of yourself—and of the little boy or girl within you.
❤️
Reflection
Who in your life have you already given a label?
And what changes when you ask yourself: "What might be underneath their behaviour?