Before You Worry About FindingAnother Narcissist, Ask Yourself This instead

One of the questions I'm asked more than almost any other is, "How do I avoid ending up with another narcissist?" It's hardly surprising. Spend five minutes on social media and you'll come away believing they're everywhere. Every difficult relationship seems to be labelled narcissistic these days, and while some people genuinely have experienced narcissistic abuse, I sometimes wonder whether we've become so focused on diagnosing other people that we've forgotten to ask ourselves a far more important question. How do we avoid walking into another unhealthy relationship in the first place?

After my own divorce, I found myself thinking about this a lot. When you've spent years with one person, particularly if the relationship ended through betrayal or someone else entered the picture, you're not making decisions from the same emotional place you were before. You're grieving, your confidence has taken a knock, and whether we like to admit it or not, there's often a part of us that simply wants to feel wanted again. That doesn't make us weak. It makes us human. Unfortunately, it's also what can make us vulnerable to making decisions we wouldn't normally make.

One of the reasons I wanted to write this article is because I think we've become obsessed with trying to identify narcissists when perhaps we should be paying more attention to recognising healthy relationships. Those are two very different things. The reality is that not everybody who behaves selfishly is a narcissist, just as not everybody who has a bad relationship has been with one. We all have narcissistic traits. We all have moments when we can be self-centred, defensive, stubborn or crave reassurance from the people we love. Those characteristics are part of being human. What matters is how often they show up, how extreme they become and whether the person is capable of recognising their behaviour and taking responsibility for it.

Looking back, I don't think many of us asked these questions years ago. We tended to accept behaviour that today would make us stop and think. We stayed because we'd made a commitment. We stayed because there were children involved. We stayed because we believed people would change or because we convinced ourselves that every marriage goes through difficult patches. Sometimes that was the right thing to do and sometimes it wasn't, but what I do know is that many people leave a marriage carrying far more emotional baggage than they realise.

When a long relationship ends, particularly one that has involved betrayal or emotional manipulation, it affects far more than your heart. It affects your confidence, your judgement and your sense of identity. Many people tell me they no longer trust themselves. They question how they could have missed the warning signs or why they ignored their instincts. They replay conversations over and over again, wondering whether the relationship could have been saved or whether they somehow caused it to fail. Those thoughts are incredibly common, but they also create the perfect conditions for making poor decisions when somebody new comes into our lives.

After all, who doesn't want to feel loved again? Who doesn't want someone to tell them they're attractive after years of feeling invisible? Who doesn't enjoy the excitement of meeting somebody new after spending years in a relationship that had lost its spark? There is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting companionship. We all want to feel connected to another person. The problem comes when that desire begins making our decisions for us instead of allowing our judgement to take the lead.

One of the first questions I encourage people to ask themselves after divorce has nothing to do with the person they're dating. Instead, I ask them to look at themselves. What is it that you actually want from this next chapter of your life? It's a surprisingly difficult question because so many of us have spent years thinking about everybody else's needs before our own. We become so used to compromising, organising family life and putting other people first that we forget to ask ourselves what would genuinely make us happy.

Do you actually want another committed relationship right now, or do you simply miss having someone beside you? There is a big difference. Many people assume the answer to loneliness is another relationship, but loneliness and being ready for another relationship are not the same thing. You may simply miss having someone to eat dinner with, someone to message during the day or someone to share your weekends with. That doesn't automatically mean you're emotionally ready to build another life with somebody.

For the first time in years, perhaps even decades, you have complete freedom. You can travel without asking anyone's permission. You can decorate your home exactly how you want it. You can spend time with your children, your friends or on your own without having to explain yourself to anyone. You can rediscover hobbies you abandoned years ago because life became too busy. Before rushing to give that freedom away again, it's worth asking yourself whether you've really had the chance to enjoy it.

I often think society places far too much pressure on people to move on quickly after divorce. There seems to be an expectation that once the paperwork is signed, you should immediately start looking for somebody new. Personally, I think that's one of the biggest mistakes many of us make. We spend years inside one relationship and then, instead of taking the time to understand what happened and what we've learned from it, we rush into another one hoping this time it will somehow be different.

The irony is that the people most likely to find themselves in another unhealthy relationship are often the kindest people. They're the ones who see the best in others. They're patient, forgiving and willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt. Those are wonderful qualities, but without healthy boundaries they can become dangerous. When we desperately want a relationship to work, it's remarkably easy to explain away behaviour that should really make us stop and think.

Something else that's rarely discussed openly is how our emotions can change once a relationship becomes physical. Many women tell me they've only been dating someone for a few weeks, yet after sleeping with them they suddenly feel deeply emotionally invested. They start imagining holidays together, introducing them to the family or wondering whether this could be the person they spend the rest of their life with. There is a biological reason why that can happen. During intimacy, hormones such as oxytocin, often referred to as the bonding hormone, are released. These hormones can strengthen feelings of trust, closeness and emotional attachment. It doesn't happen to everyone and it isn't unique to women, but it is common enough that we should understand it instead of ignoring it.

When you've also come out of a marriage where you've experienced rejection, neglect or betrayal, those feelings can become even stronger. Suddenly somebody is paying you attention again. They make you feel attractive. They make you feel exciting. They remind you that somebody still finds you desirable, and after everything you've been through that can feel incredibly powerful. The danger is that chemistry has a habit of convincing us we've found compatibility long before we've actually got to know the person standing in front of us.

That's one of the reasons I always encourage people to slow down. There is no prize for moving on first and there is certainly no deadline for finding your next relationship.

One thing I've learned over the years is that our instincts often recognise something isn't quite right long before our mind is willing to accept it. We ignore that uneasy feeling because we don't want to seem suspicious, overly sensitive or unwilling to give someone a chance. We tell ourselves they're just having a bad day or that we're overthinking things. We explain away behaviour because we want the relationship to work.

Looking back, I can see how easy it is to do that when you're in love. We don't enter relationships looking for reasons they'll fail. We enter them hoping we've finally found our person. That's why I don't believe people ignore red flags because they're foolish. I think they ignore them because they're optimistic. They believe people deserve the benefit of the doubt, and they want to see the good in them.

Kindness is a wonderful quality. So is loyalty. So is patience. The problem is that those qualities need to be balanced with healthy boundaries. Without boundaries, kindness can become self-sacrifice. Loyalty can become staying far longer than we should. Patience can become years of waiting for somebody to change when they've shown us, time and time again, that they have no intention of doing so.

One thing I got completely wrong after my divorce was thinking I could heal by keeping myself busy. I booked holidays, spent time with friends and convinced myself that time alone would somehow fix everything. While all of those things helped me through an incredibly difficult period, none of them helped me understand why I'd made certain decisions in my marriage or what I needed to change to avoid repeating the same patterns.

By the time I finally walked into a therapist's office, it wasn't because I was desperate to be there. I'd put it off for months because I genuinely didn't think talking to somebody I didn't know was going to make much difference. Looking back, it became one of the best decisions I made after my marriage ended.

What surprised me most was that therapy wasn't really about my marriage. It very quickly became about me. I began to understand my own patterns, the beliefs I'd carried for years and the reasons I'd accepted things that, deep down, had never really felt right. It wasn't about blaming myself for the breakdown of my marriage. It was about understanding myself, and those are two very different things.

Friends are incredibly important, and I don't know how I'd have got through my divorce without mine. They listened when I needed to talk, picked me up when I was struggling and reminded me that life would eventually get better. The difference is that friends naturally give advice through the lens of their own experiences. They tell you what they would do because that's all any of us can do.

A good therapist approaches things very differently. They don't tell you to leave, they don't tell you to stay and they certainly don't tell you how to live your life. They ask the questions that help you see things for yourself. They help you recognise patterns you may never have noticed, challenge beliefs that no longer serve you and give you the space to arrive at your own conclusions. The answers don't come from them. They come from you.

That understanding has probably been one of the greatest gifts to come out of one of the hardest chapters of my life. Once you truly understand yourself, you're far less likely to repeat the same patterns because you're making decisions from a place of awareness rather than emotion. You're no longer looking for someone to complete you. You're looking for someone who complements the life you've already rebuilt.

I know there's still a stigma around therapy in some circles, but I've always looked at it differently. If your car breaks down, you take it to a mechanic. If you've broken a bone, you see a doctor. When your confidence has been knocked, your trust has disappeared and your whole world has been turned upside down, it makes sense to seek help from someone who understands how the mind works.

Good therapy isn't about blaming your parents, reliving every painful memory or telling you what decisions to make. The best therapists don't give you answers. They help you ask better questions. They help you understand why you ignored certain behaviours, why you tolerated things that didn't sit comfortably with you and why some relationships felt familiar, even when they weren't healthy.

For many people, divorce is the first time they've ever stopped long enough to look inwards. Life has a habit of moving at such a pace that we rarely question our own beliefs or patterns. We simply carry them from one relationship into the next. Therapy creates the space to slow down and understand yourself in a way that everyday life rarely allows.

One of the things I've seen time and time again at my retreats is that people don't just leave therapy with a better understanding of what happened in their marriage. They leave with a better understanding of themselves. They become clearer about the kind of relationship they want, the boundaries they're no longer willing to compromise on and the life they want to build moving forward. That knowledge is incredibly powerful because it means you're no longer relying on luck to find the right person. You're making better choices because you know yourself better.

There is no shame in asking for help. In fact, I think it takes far more courage to sit in a room and honestly examine your own life than it does to carry on pretending you're fine. Healing isn't about proving how strong you are by doing everything on your own. Sometimes it's about recognising that the strongest thing you can do is allow someone to help you make sense of it all.

If you're finding yourself stuck after divorce, there are many ways to move forward. Therapy, trusted friends, support groups and dedicated retreats can all play an important role. If you're curious about the approach we take at Mending Hearts Retreat, you can find out more here. www.mendingheartsretreat.com