Gaslighting, narcissists and red flags: have we forgotten how to talk in and about relationships?

by

Those who have sat with me in a counselling room may have noticed that I do something quite often. Someone will tell me what they don’t want. For example: “I don’t want him to hug or touch me only because he wants sex.” I might ask: “When do you enjoy his touch?”

What we don’t want can be important information. But what do we want? What do we need? What would we like to happen between us?

One of the quotes on my website is “Whatever you give energy to grows.” I keep coming back to it.


We are getting very good at spotting what is wrong

There is an extraordinary amount of relationship advice coming at us now. Red flags. Toxic traits. How to recognise a narcissist. Signs you’re being gaslit. Ten things never to tolerate in a relationship.

Some of this language can help us understand what is happening and recognise when something really isn’t okay. I wonder, though, whether we’ve started using some of those words too easily.

Someone remembers a conversation differently and it becomes gaslighting. Spend time with someone self-absorbed, defensive or behaving badly and they’re a narcissist. Notice something about another person that doesn’t sit well with us and it’s a red flag. Increasingly we seem to be sorting not only behaviours, but people, into boxes.

Once we’ve decided someone is a narcissist, toxic, or gaslighting us, that can also become the lens through which we see everything else they do. We notice what confirms what we already believe. An apology can look like manipulation, disagreement like gaslighting, needing space like withholding. Sometimes a label that helped us understand one thing starts explaining everything.


Our interpretation may be right, but the label itself doesn’t prove it.
 

People are complicated. Relationships are hard! Two people can experience the same interaction very differently and both be telling the truth about their experience. Someone responding to your story with a story of their own might be taking over the conversation, or they might be trying to tell you “I know that feeling too”. For some neurodivergent people in particular, sharing a similar experience can be a very natural way of connecting. Someone withdrawing from a difficult conversation might be stonewalling; they might also be overwhelmed and trying to regulate themselves.

Maybe we can talk more about what happens between us without being quite so quick to decide what kind of person the other one is.



What gets our attention?


I recently came across an article by Simon Sinek about relationship content online. It referred to an experiment where essentially the same relationship advice was shared with two different titles: one naming red flags and one green flags. The red-flag version received ten times the attention.

Threat gets our attention. Algorithms like our attention. So there is a lot coming at us about what is wrong — with our partners, other people and the world.

And there is plenty to be concerned about. People I speak with are worried about political polarisation, racism and extreme views, climate change, war, inequality, AI and the resources required to support its growth. A steady stream of things to fear or be angry about can leave us anxious, overwhelmed, angry or powerless. We are geared to notice threat, and there is now an awful lot of it competing for our attention. It makes sense that “red flags” draw us in more readily than “green flags”.

Yet what we give our attention to also shapes what we notice. There is kindness, generosity and courage around us too. There are things we can contribute to. That is part of today’s reality as well.

Relationships are similar that way.
 

What would we like to grow?

When our partner, friend, parent, sibling or child is doing something wrong it may really need naming, particularly where there is abuse, coercion or concern for safety. And still, we can also notice strength, courage, resilience, love and the things that help someone find their way through.

And then there is ordinary human messiness. We misunderstand each other, get defensive, become absorbed in our own experience, miss bids for connection, say things badly, get tired, want different things and bring our histories with us. We hurt each other without meaning to. We simply f*ck up.

So what would we like more of?

Maybe more kindness or curiosity. Being able to disagree and stay connected. More affection or play. Feeling listened to. Did you know feeling truly understood is incredibly sexy? ;)
Being able to say “that hurt me” without needing the other person to be a bad person, and being able to hear it without immediately proving we did nothing wrong.


Once we know what we want more of, we can also ask what we can do more of.

That is much of what I hope happens in my practice. We slow things down enough to see what is happening between you, what each person is trying to communicate or protect, what each needs and what matters to them, and find other ways of meeting each other.

This goes beyond couples too. It might be a friend, sibling, parent or adult child. The relationship may be basically good with one thing you can’t seem to get past. Or nothing is terribly wrong and you just want something good to become even better. Maybe there are patterns you’ve had enough of and no idea how to change them. 

That is worth giving energy to.

Also…

We can become pretty good at noticing how somebody else communicates. Do also look at ourselves, especially when we’re hurt, angry, frightened or desperate to be understood. What do I do: Do I listen? Interrupt? Keep pushing because I need this resolved? Withdraw? Correct their version of events? Explain myself until there is no room left for theirs?
Do we ever wonder: what is it like to be on the receiving end of me?

Next time I want to explore that a little further: how clean is my own communication? Where is the line between communication that isn’t great, unhealthy patterns, and behaviour that starts limiting another person’s freedom or autonomy?

Get ready to look in the mirror ;)

Kindly,
 

Astrid