At times, friends exhibit unexpected behavior. Reflecting on my experiences, I now question if one particular relationship might be characterized as a ‘narcissistic friendship‘…
Toxic friends
Toxic Friends
In the article ‘Narcissistic Family‘, I previously discussed a narcissistic cousin with whom I spent a considerable amount of time. However, there was another individual who perfectly matched the profile of a ‘narcissistic friendship.’
I refrain from labeling everyone as a narcissist, but this particular person was extraordinarily manipulative and unkind. For privacy and safety, I’ll refer to him as John, which is not his real name.
The Genesis of a Narcissistic Friendship?
John, the stepson of an acquaintance of my narcissistic mother, was initially presented as a lonely guy with few friends. Believing we shared common struggles, I didn’t perceive any danger when he began inserting himself into my life. Consequently, he found his way into what I considered my circle of friends. Initially, my narcissistic cousin disapproved of him, but soon they became inseparable.
Derogatory Labels
John, attending a Secondary Economic and Administrative Education School, took immense pride in his academic path. Despite it being a secondary education, John portrayed it as equivalent to a university degree. He dismissed anyone with a lower level of education as a ‘stupid Technical School guy.’ As someone who had attended a Technical School, I regularly faced such belittling comments.
To others, I was depicted as unintelligent, a perception later embraced by my narcissistic cousin. This was particularly damaging to my already fragile self-confidence during those days, even though, unbeknownst to me at the time, I was gifted.
Indicators of a Narcissistic Friendship
John mastered the art of playing people against each other, especially targeting me. Once he integrated himself into my friend circle through me, he expertly continued this manipulation. He consistently swayed the group to his side, casting me as the villain.
Gullible Parents
John’s mother and stepfather were utterly oblivious to his behavior. Outwardly, he maintained a facade of decency. However, in others’ homes, he displayed atrocious manners, showing no regard for being a guest. He rifled through people’s closets and casually tossed things around.
Despite his off-putting behavior, he found favor with only a small clique, including my narcissistic cousin.
On one occasion, his stepfather dismissed a complaint about John’s behavior at a friend’s home, retorting, ‘Look at your own son.’ Unfortunately, both remained completely blind to John’s misconduct.
“That’s How It Feels!”
Once, I was with my narcissistic cousin at another friend’s house when John unexpectedly appeared at the door. The guy hosting us exclaimed, “Oh no, there he is again. I won’t let him in,” and indeed, John was denied entry, left standing outside a closed door. Even though I had no involvement, it was, of course, blamed on me. In retaliation, the spark plug cap was removed from my moped.
A few days later, when we visited John’s house, the next act of revenge unfolded. As I entered, he slammed the door shut in front of me, declaring, “Look, Herman, that’s how it feels!”
In everything that unfolded, I was consistently depicted as the villain, even though I had no involvement.
Driver’s License
During this period, we were both working on obtaining our driver’s licenses. John acquired his a few months before I did. At that time, Opel had a promotion where new drivers could enjoy a free day with an Opel Corsa, only covering the cost of petrol.
John invited me and a few others to join him for a day of driving with the complimentary rental car. He drove recklessly, and during a parking attempt, he collided with a caravan. Instead of stopping and leaving a note, he swiftly fled the scene.
On the return trip, we made a pit stop at a gas station to grab some food. One of his friends asked me to cover the cost of a Mars chocolate bar. Puzzled, I questioned, “Why should I pay for it?” Although nothing was explicitly said, it became evident in the car. It turned out they had bought sweets for John for the day out without consulting me.
I naturally assumed we would split the petrol expenses at the end of the day. However, the others dismissed it with some candy. Now, the narrative painted me as a miser unwilling to buy a Mars for the host.
For John, this was a golden opportunity. He had something to use against me, further portraying me as the antagonist. When I offered to contribute to the petrol costs, he refused. The satisfaction of casting me as the villain meant more to him than the money…
Moral conduct?
Oh yes, his stepfather assisted him in concealing the damage to the rental car resulting from the collision with the caravan, despite being one to always assess my moral character. John, too, frequently played the ‘moral card’. I was often publicly lectured about alleged antisocial behavior, while he himself lacked moral principles.
Moreover, John’s mischievous pranks tended to escalate. For instance, we occasionally arranged a taxi for someone. However, he went a step further by persuading an undertaker to dispatch the hearse to a retirement home. This was done under the pretext of retrieving the body of a supposedly deceased resident whose name he randomly picked from the telephone book.
The Revenge
Retribution for my alleged stinginess occurred a few months later, after I had obtained my driver’s license. Even before acquiring the license, I already owned a car, a 1975 Opel Kadett. As soon as I got my driver’s license, I was ready to hit the road.
For the weekend, I had invited three ‘friends,’ including my narcissistic cousin and John, for a day trip to Amsterdam. The other friend was also my sister’s boyfriend at the time.
I had committed to this Amsterdam trip long in advance, even though I was short on cash at the time. Despite financial constraints, I kept my promise.
It seemed John wanted reinforcements, as he invited one of his friends as well. This boy harbored animosity toward me, a fact John had conveyed multiple times. I was against having him join us, but John skillfully manipulated me until I relented.
Thus, we journeyed from our hometown Heerenveen to Amsterdam, cramming five people into a car designed for four. The weather was delightful that day, and in Amsterdam, John bought a few cans of soft drinks. He distributed one to everyone except me. “Thirsty weather, isn’t it Herman?” he taunted.
The Chinese Restaurant
On the way back, the plan was to grab a bite at a snack bar. However, John’s friend insisted on dining at a restaurant. As mentioned earlier, I was low on cash and couldn’t afford a restaurant meal. Despite my financial constraints, John and his friend were adamant, and the other two agreed.
Consequently, I found myself dining alone in a snack bar while the rest enjoyed a Chinese restaurant. As I sat there eating, I reflected on the events of the day—how John and his friend had completely taken control of the outing, the bullying, and the exclusion.
Growing impatient, I eventually went to the restaurant and gave them an ultimatum, setting a somber tone for the remainder of the journey back.
“This was typical Herman”
On the return trip, John successfully turned the others against me. He began his narrative with the words, “This was typical Herman again.” Naturally, this resonated with his friend and my narcissistic cousin. Only my sister’s boyfriend sided with me.
For the day in Amsterdam, I received nothing at all, not even a candy bar. Upon arriving at John’s house a few days later, his stepfather greeted me with “Hi, Chinese.” Clearly, John had once again tarnished my image at home.
Freed from a Narcissistic Friendship
Not long after, we had visitors at the house one evening when John showed up. “Oh no, him again,” remarked my sister. “We won’t let him in,” my narcissistic mother responded.
However, John was not one to accept rejection easily. Using a stick, he manipulated the door handle through the letterbox and gained entry. This, in turn, irked my narcissistic mother. “Are you crazy for breaking into our home? The boys didn’t want you in!” she exclaimed angrily.
By “the boys,” she referred to my narcissistic cousin and me. However, neither of us had anything to do with this intrusion; it was my sister who disapproved of his presence.
A few days later, John’s stepfather approached my narcissistic mother to discuss the matter. He assured her that we wouldn’t be bothered by John anymore, as he wanted nothing to do with us. Later, I learned from someone else that he was furious with me. Of course…
Nonetheless, thanks to the actions of my sister and narcissistic mother, I was finally free from this bully after a year and a half.
Was This a Narcissistic Friendship?
The concept of narcissism was entirely foreign to me at the time. I often described him as the biggest backstabbing jellyfish I had ever encountered. He entered my circle of friends through me, only to turn everyone against me.
With the knowledge I have now, I must conclude that John exhibited many narcissistic traits. I don’t want to label everyone who behaves poorly as a narcissist, but his arrogance, manipulative behavior, and pitting people against each other strongly suggest it. Additionally, he was excessively concerned with money and status, engaging in bets about future income with his friends.
Also read the article: What is a narcissist?
Whether this constituted a “narcissistic friendship” or not, the fact remains that he was a highly toxic person. He likely continues to make others’ lives miserable. Fortunately, his presence in my life was relatively short-lived, resulting in less damage compared to my narcissistic mother.
Have you also experienced such friendships, and do you suspect they might be “narcissistic friendships”? Share your thoughts below in a comment!
