Module 1- Understanding
Connie
Connie will be playing the role of the covert narcissist, coworker and friend. Being a covert narcissist, she doesn’t show a lot of pride in herself. In fact quite the opposite. She is always dressed a little haphazardly. Always talking a little negative about herself, but it doesn’t take long for you to see, after each self-deprecating statement, she also pauses and sighs just long enough to give everyone a chance to argue how wonderful she is.
She seems nothing but nice and overly sweet although habitually frazzled as she’s constantly clocking in at the last minute most mornings, but always with enough time to stop and grab a box of donuts… or cookies… or coffee for everyone.
I mean you name it, Connie’s brought it. No matter how late she is or how wrinkled her pants are, she insists it just makes her so happy to bring in treats for everyone. “I’d rather be late than show up empty handed,” she always says. In fact, she’s reminded you in the hallway on multiple occasions, quite insistently might I add, that there’s donuts in the break room and she’s yet to see you eat one. That’s actually how the two of you found out you both have food sensitivities! It was a bit of a bonding moment and now Connie has been sharing quite a lot with you. Aside from her gluten and dairy intolerance, the fibromyalgia, migraines, kidney stones, tilted uterus and wide set vagina (didn’t need to know that one Connie…) she’s been stuck in an abusive relationship for years. She wants to get out of it but unfortunately shares a car with her boyfriend and as much as she’d like to put money aside for her own vehicle and housing, all her money has been going into a shared account with her mother for medical bills. Amidst all of the hardship though, Connie somehow keeps smiling and bringing donuts.
Every time someone passes her in the hall, they ask about her recent ailment and if it’s improved. There’s always a new story you’re walking in on her telling in the break room. Another argument with her boyfriend. Another check bounced from her mother overdrawing from the account again. The stress has made her migraines act up and she can barely speak without projectile vomiting today.
Connie can’t seem to catch a damn break! As Dolly Parton would say, “When it comes to pain and sufferin’, she is right up there with Elizabeth Taylor.”
Now, let’s be real, Connie has never been anything but nice, but something about her just feels intrusively nice. Exhausting actually. But ya also kinda feel like a horrible person for even feeling that way. Especially when everyone else at work seems more than happy to lend a listening ear or offer their assistance, so when you find out she lives twenty minutes from you, you let her know that if she ever needs a ride to work you’re more than happy to drop by. The two of you exchange numbers and you don’t think much of it.
That very night, you start getting text messages from Connie saying she’s gotten into another fight with her boyfriend and has driven their car to sit in the parking lot not far from your house. You're now on full alert and ask her numerous times if she wants you to call the cops or at least come pick her up but she just assures you this is nothing new and she just needed someone to talk to.
Within a couple weeks, these late-night emergency texts have become a regular thing. So regular in fact that you’ve even found yourself checking your phone while out to dinner with friends, worried this might be the night Connie gets seriously hurt. After another long night of coaching her through another fight, you offer to cancel your brunch plans the following day and come pick her up instead and take her to lunch. You know she could use a break from the stress and you can have brunch another time.
The next day you're five minutes from Connie’s home when your phone lights up with a text message from her. It’s a picture of a sequined dress with a pair of heels and a follow-up text reading, "What do you think?!"
"Wait…what?" you think to yourself. You're goin' to lunch not the Golden Globes. What's with the gown?
You call her, confused by the cryptic text. “Hey!!” she says with a bubbly voice, “What’s up!” You can hear the hustle and bustle of the shopping mall through the phone, “Uhh, I’m about to turn into your neighborhood, where are you?”
“Oh my goodness I completely forgot!! Ugh I am SO sorry! Elizabeth from work showed up at my house with coffee this morning and wanted to take me shopping, but we’ll be done (she turns to Elizabeth) how long do you think? Thirty? Forty-five minutes? You can just let yourself in, there’s a key under the mat!” She then lowers her voice and whispers into the phone that she just couldn't tell Elizabeth no, it was out of her hands! I mean she showed up so excited... and she knows Elizabeth doesn't have a lot of friends so...
You nod your head agreeing with her story, but you can feel heat swirling in your stomach. This….is not the voice of the desperate and deep in despair woman you were talking down off a ledge just ten hours ago. That you stayed up all night listening to and trying to calm down. That you cancelled your plans for because she kept saying over and over how alone she was.
So alone she's out shopping for cocktail dresses at the mall with a friend while you're thinking about going home to start laundry.
You try to hide your aggravation, not completely sure what to make of the entire situation, so you assure her that no no...it's fine. They should enjoy their shopping day and you'll just... go run some errands.
She then raises her voice an octave, sounding extra pitiful and sincere, and says she can try and call you tomorrow if she has the time, and you cringe. Now feeling very much that you’re being patronized.
You hang up feeling like the girl in middle school who didn't get invited to the sleepover, and you're thinking to yourself. “I made these plans for her. Not me! Why do I feel like I just got stood up!? Like I'm the one in need! I mean what the hell just happened?! How did that get flipped around so fast?"
You were in full power rescue and support mode, and now suddenly you feel like you involuntarily have been put into a position of begging for Connie’s attention. As if you were the one texting and pleading for help from a parking lot at 2am.
A week or so passes and things just feel off at work. Connie seems to look down her nose at you and spends noticeably more time talking to Elizabeth quietly where you can see them but can't quite make out the conversations.
Did you do something wrong? Did you upset Connie for some reason? Did you upset Elizabeth? This is such an uncomfortable feeling. Ya don't wanna be paranoied, but it seriously feels like you're being gossiped about all of the sudden.
Finally after enough discomfort and nausea at the thought of what could possibly be going on, you decide to clear the air and calmly approach Connie asking her if you've upset her in any way.
"Oh no! Not at all!" she says, "I thought you were mad at me about being at the mall Saturday!"
You go back and forth clearing the air, but even as you hug and laugh at the misunderstanding, something in you feels like a child. Childish to be more specific. I mean, technically it sounds like the misunderstanding has been resolved but...why are you left feeling like you were apologizing over and over for misunderstanding while she was clarifying that it had nothing to do with her and she was simply at Elizabeth's whim? Why does it feel like that conversation just ended with her forgiving you?
That piece of you once again feeling patronized thinks, "Ok no this is not done. I need to make sure she knows I'm not a needy person! I'm not a weak little pushover. I've got to reintroduce myself in a way so she doesn't misinterpret me as dramatic and attention seeking."
It doesn't feel good to be misunderstood, misinterpreted or painted over in an incorrect light and a part of us will fight to fix these perceptions.
Manipulative people know this very well because their reputation is everything to them. It's usually all they have so you can imagine how tight their grip is on the strings of perception around them.
You decide to try a coffee date with Connie again, really start fresh this time and settle that uneasy feeling that won't go away. When you find out she's got her own car now, you invite her to come by Saturday around lunch. This'll be so much better! You'll be on your turf, in your environment, and you can be a friend to her without rearranging your schedule and driving across town. You let her know you'll just be spending the day painting and doing some artwork you've been putting off so she's welcome to drop by whenever!
You've just put paint to canvas as she pulls up around 11. Elizabeth's husband works at a mechanics shop in town and found Connie a car in fairly good shape that'll get her from point A to point B. They even assured Connie there was no rush for her to pay them back, they just wanted to make sure she had safe transportation, but the look on her face as she slams the driver's door and walks toward your front porch doesn't look like she's how should I say...over joyed with her gift.
You try to lighten the mood before she brings it into your home and wipes it onto your welcome mat.
"You got a car!" you say, "You're a free bird now!"
"Yeah..." she rolls her eyes, "A free bird that smells like cigarettes and is gonna end up spending her paychecks on gas and oil."
You try to look for something else to say as she continues.
"Whatever-" Connie says, "Ronnie, Elizabeth's husband said he'd detail it for me for free, he didn't realize it stunk so bad. Ugh...I don't even know why I showered before I came over here. It's disgusting."
You think about mentioning the fact she herself smokes...so, is it really that unbearable to deal with someone else's? But, you think it best to just nod and agree. She doesn't look like she's up for self-reflection. She's there to vent anyway, you already knew that. No biggie.
You make two mugs of coffee as she continues on about the disgusting cloth seats and roll down windows and she stops abruptly to make sure you don't add milk or sugar to hers!
"I drink mine black!" she says, "Ugh I can't stand sugary coffee."
"No problem!" although you do feel a little confused by her statement. You swear she's the only person at work that uses the french vanilla creamer in the fridge. You've watched her empty it multiple times... Again thinking only to yourself, "oh what does it matter just give her the coffee and stop over analyzing."
You have a seat across from her in your living room which somehow feels more like you're joining her in her office, and suddenly her expression changes and she smiles.
Oh sweet relief!
"Ugh, enough about my shit though," she says, "how do you like living here?"
"Not bad!" you say, feeling a little excited to have the conversation shift, "it's a small place but I really just need room to paint and ya know, it's just me living here and I don't have a ton of stuff. It gets a ton of light which I love-"
"Yeah, it is definitely not big enough for two people, but I mean honey obviously judging from that outfit, you're not expecting overnighters either so..." she laughs with a sharp eye on you.
Your brain hears the statement, but the translation's lagging... Wait what? You're still interpreting her statement the context or reasoning behind her statement as you reply,
"Yeah...I mean, you did come over on a chill me day. Not really expecting anything romantic, just, I'm just painting and having a Saturday..."
"Do you go to school for painting?" she says.
"Oh no it's just for fun."
"Yeah," she says with a low tone as she pans the room looking around at each canvas. Her eyes saying- I coulda guessed that. "I have a friend who's an art instructor in town. She's absolutely incredible. I could get you into one of her classes if you want."
"Oh that's cool! No, thank you though! It's really, it's ...it's just for fun." ...Not feeling so fun at the moment you think to yourself as you now want to take all your paintings down before she can glare at them any longer.
The conversation continues on and with every question she asks, it feels as if she's sincerely wanting to learn about your life, while slowly pulling a ribbon of self-doubt from your gut. Before you realize it two hours have passed and she ends the conversation abruptly, announcing all the things she has to do today.
"Yeah yeah sure!" you say. Thanking her for stopping by and walking her to the front door. She leaves with a huge smile and before she opens her driver's door she says,
"Hey have fun painting today! If you want my friend's number for that class you let me know, I'll get you in!"
You shut the door behind you and sit back in front of your canvas deflated. You pick up the paint brush but now instead of feeling excitement to simply put paint on the canvas and have fun, you're feeling insecure and silly. Maybe taking a class wouldn't be a bad idea...
You still can't quite put your finger on what it is about Connie, but you're not a fan. Now you're really seeing that you leave every interaction with Connie feeling confused. Drained. Unsure of yourself. You take note of a regular protocol she runs through. A faint smirk when she's sharing yet another heart break with a fellow employee and like clockwork, they begin offering her money, moral support or any sort of compensation for her great service to society amidst her many troubles.
As pitiful as she seems to everyone else, around you, in private, she flips to another persona. She feels more like a strategic and quick minded bully and less like a desperate woman just trying to do her best and be kind. She's quick to raise an eyebrow when she hears good news pertaining to anyone else. "Yeah well, " she'll say, as she quickly runs through her meticulous mental notes of their every mistake and downfall. Counteracting any good fortune happening for anyone besides her. She'll point out quickly why that person is actually quite unworthy or will soon inevitably fall back down a peg back to where they belong. But she only shares this inside information with you it seems. To everyone else she just smiles and congratulates them on their new promotion or that new house they just put under contract. But you know you'll see her eyes roll later as she tells you she's positive they only got the position because they're sleeping with the boss.
You're a little nervous to tell her that you actually put in for a higher position, but she seems to pull information out of you like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat. She has a way of running into you for five minutes and leaving with a novel's worth of updates on your personal life. Every time you walk away going, "I did it again! How does that happen!? Why did I even feel the need to tell her that!" But once you get this new position, you won't be seeing her as much because you'll be on different shifts.
A week passes and the manager calls you into his office. You sit down excited to hear the news but he lets you know that as excited as he was to offer you the position, he wants to make sure he hires someone who will be permanent, and he's heard through the grapevine that you may be relocating in a year. Your face drops and for a moment you wonder why he would think that or who would even be saying this. Then you remember the quick remark you made to Connie three weeks ago. She'd asked if you were still liking your apartment. If you were still trying your hand at painting and if you could see yourself settling down here and get married. Now you're rolling your eyes. You say to your boss,
"I did express to a fellow employee that I may at some point move closer to home to start a family, but I wasn't saying it as in the next year...I mean like the next decade." You sigh audibly. " I was just, saying in general that I may not be here, forever, but I do like it here so far and don't plan on moving anytime soon." You feel yourself beginning to shake as you become angry. You see on your boss's face that he's unfortunately already made his decision.
"Well, I'm happy to hear you're planning on staying with us, but I'm sorry to say I was under the impression from multiple employees that you may not be with us long and because of that, I offered the position to someone else. But now that we're clear, I will definitely keep you in mind when we have another shift open up."
By the time you leave his office you're fuming. You know where everyone heard this from. You try to gather yourself and calmly approach Connie after work in the parking lot. She sees you approaching and already is being overly sweet to you. Like she used to be. She complements your hair today and says it's been too long since you've gotten together! It almost throws you off course but you smile, nod, and take a another deep breath and ask if she's been telling everyone you're looking at moving soon.
"Have I been telling people you're moving?" she says with a high tone. "You told me you were." she says, "Remember?"
"No no," you say, "You had asked me if I wanted to be here permanently, and I said in years...like meaning ten years from now, I may move back home to start a family."
"Oh, well see you didn't say that clearly. Well I'm glad you like it here! Why are you so upset about it," she says.
"Because evidently everyone has suddenly been under the impression I'm not staying much longer and it got back to our boss and that might be the reason I didn't get the position I put in for.”
"Oh no I'm sure it's not that... That wouldn't be the only reason."
"He made it pretty clear that it changed his mind..." you say.
"Well...I don't think so.” Connie responds, "he was probably just trying to be nice about it. I still don't understand why you're so upset. So you're not moving...I mean ok that's great."
"What I'm saying is-" you fume, "it wasn't your business to tell everyone I was! That wasn't even what I said! I mean how many people did you tell exactly?"
"Wow!" Connie replies, "I didn't realize this was top secret information. Um. I'm sorry? I will never again breathe another word of your mind-blowing life plans to another person. Geez... I misunderstood you. I thought you were planning on moving, now I know you're not. Great. I'm not really sure what it is you want me to do about it. Sorry I didn't get you the position you wanted? I'm not gonna stand here and let you yell at me like I lost it for you. That's on you! I've tried to be a friend to you but I guess you're not ok with actually having a real conversation. I'll stay out of your business from now on."
She lights a cigarette, then smiles and blows a kiss to another employee as they thank her for today's donuts. Connie climbs into her freshly detailed Corolla and you want more than anything to go kick her tires and yell,
"I know who you are! You're not that smart! I'm just really mad right now and can't think of anything to say but buddy when I do!? Whew... you better look out!"
And for the next week in the shower, as you let the conditioner sit in your hair and shave your legs furiously, that's exactly what you do. Even OJ's lawyers couldn't think up such a piercing closing statement as you! You start to realize you don't remember the last day you had that you didn’t feel this angry. Not even just slightly unsettled or frustrated, but angry. Furious. Every time you hear another employee offer to help Connie out or give her a hug and say they're praying for her... you can feel your cheeks redden.
This is not who you are. How the hell did you get here?
Connie is spectacularly playing the role of the Covert Narcissist. No matter the struggle, Connie's will always be worse. Anyone in her presence shows an act of kindness? Connie will out do it. But, with absolute humility of course. She must be seen as the nicest! The most innocent with only the best of intentions! Don't you know that about her? She'd do anything for you as long as her name's first in the credits! She'll swing back and forth from helpless and desperate to cold and aloof depending on what her needs are, and from whom. Seeking attention, admiration, or money. She rotates through them so sharply you could set a clock by her seasons. Her moments of needing attention will have you digging deep into your energy well, then deeper into your pockets. But no matter the assistance she receives, Connie will be burdened by it and find a way to complain about it. Connie lives as she pleases with no responsibility, because she makes the world sing, "Poor Connie..."
So here's what you may have felt all along, but didn't know-
Connie's dad left her and her mom when she was only four. Her mom was left to raise a small child and provide a comfortable home while working long unpredictable hours as a nurse in the ER. Connie went from being extremely bonded with her mother to feeling abandoned and left by both parents overnight. She was often left alone with babysitters and had to learn from a young age to let the sitter know how things ran at the house. What time she ate dinner. What time she had to go to bed. How many cookies she was allowed to have after school. Although Connie's mom did all she could, every day she left for her shift she said, "Now remember, you're in charge! Let the sitter know what's in the fridge for dinner and no tv after 8!" But it didn't take long for Connie to realize her being in charge of the house meant she could make up whatever rules she wanted so long as they were somewhat believable.
She never got to see much of the affectionate and playful mother she still barely remembers from her earliest years, life just changed too fast. So Connie learned where she couldn't receive affection and love, she could get cookies or an extra hour to stay up past her bedtime if she faked a tummy ache and smiled real big. As she got older, the wounds of abandonment didn't heal, but her imaginative and fine-tuned skills to provide for herself became sharper. She learned to get attention from boys and steal clothes out of friends closets thinking, "They won't miss it...they have plenty. I need this. I'm the one that's always left to fend for herself."
This is what makes Connie's lies so believable. She really does believe she got the short end of the stick in life and everyone else is living large. She believes the world owes her something and it's her right to figure out how to get it. So she does. The reason her mom actually has control over her bank account is because Connie's filed bankruptcy twice already and her mother can't afford to support her anymore.
She'll fake medical bills, domestic disputes, even date different people just to live rent free. Whatever it takes! It's a game for her, a never-ending obsessive search for praise, money, attention and material things to prove to herself that she's well cared for. To prove to herself that it isn't at all that she needs people, but that people need her! It doesn't matter if it's good or bad. The more strongly she can pull people to her side, to reach out to her and contact her constantly, to fight over her and be at her beck and call, the more she feels assured she'll never again be abandoned.
She needs people to believe she's helpless, but the moment they buy her lies, she loses all respect for them. Like the five-year old outsmarting their sitter. "What an idiot..." she smirks to herself, "so gullible..." She longs for connection but is revolted by the very people that run to her aid because in order for her to outwit them, she assumes they must be below her. It's a vicious cycle that grows deeper and deeper with every successful trick she pulls. The loneliness grows deeper and the lies become bigger.
We'll discuss later in Module 3 how Connie appeared as a sheep to everyone at work but snarled at you behind her wide smile, causing you to question your own sanity.