On Being a Nice, Productive Narcissist

OK, so I’m a narcissist. I own it. But a nice narcissist, not one of those malignant, tyrannical types that wants to take over the world. Essentially, after many years of trying to deny what may be obvious to many well-educated psychologists, the reality has become apparent to me. What this means is that I do not really completely like and accept myself, but must constantly strive to achieve. Striving (and receiving approval) makes living with myself bearable. 

Karen Horney, M.D., a gifted psychological theoretician, outlined the dynamics of this pervasive diagnosis. They can be high achievers, even overachievers. (My high school teachers threw this term around to describe me, and it peeved me.) 

But the narcissist’s psyche is fragile. The inner core is composed of self-doubt vulnerable to criticism from within one’s self and without, from the world. By contrast, an outer manifestation reveals a focus on appearance and accomplishments, and at times, even displays an air of grandiosity that stems from an overestimation of their abilities.

Taking an example from my practice, Mr. P. was devastated when he realized he wasn’t above having to worry about his weight. I tried to reassure him that most people do have to be concerned about weight, and allot some attention to what they eat, in order to maintain a youthful figure. 

Mr. P. had invested pride in this matter of weight and worry. He prided himself on being superior in the realm of physique. To be like everyone else, to be human with human flaws, can throw the narcissist into the ditch of self-hatred. 

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The core of cure rests in our self-acceptance. Thinking about my parents’ expectations of me and having grown up with their brand of nurturance reassures me that of course I have these narcissistic tendencies. They were high achievers and expected the same of their offspring. (When I was 10 years old, my fourth sibling was born, and my overwhelmed mother who had no time to hug me, said I was too old for hugs now. Instead I was appreciated not for my real and “inconvenient” need for affection, but for “helping.”)

  

But I own and use my needs well in my daily life. I delight in my work, in the progress of my patients that is enhanced by understanding myself. I love dogs and have an affectionate one.  Dogs give us unconditional regard, are never ambivalent about us, always glad to see us, and allow hugs whenever we want.  

When an attack of self-hate threatens, I stand aside with my observing ego, and say, “Of course, there you go again. Just accept the fact that you are human. That isn’t really so terrible after all. In fact, it is a relief.”

P.S. The narcissist has been said to lack empathy with others. In the course of my own psychotherapeutic treatment, I’ve learned to be empathic and in turn, have helped patients learn this gift that humanizes and fulfils us.