Narcissists Don’t Target Your Empathy

Narcissists don’t target your empathy—they target the place you hope someone will finally land. Your deepest longing isn’t a flaw—it’s the bullseye. And when you learn to guard it with care, you stop handing others the darts.

Clients often tell me, “They went after me because I’m too empathetic.”

But empathy isn’t what drew them in. What they sensed was the longing beneath it—the part of you you may not even realize is there because you’ve lived so long without it being met.

That quiet ache to be chosen. To be held. To finally exhale into someone’s arms and not be the strong one for once.

It’s not that you walk around advertising it. You probably do the opposite. You’ve built a life around independence, competence, and self-reliance. You’ve learned to take pride in needing little, because needing has always felt risky. But underneath that armor is a hunger for closeness that never went away—it just went underground.

And that’s the piece narcissists sense. Not your empathy. Your longing.

The Ache Beneath the Surface

It wasn’t your big heart that made you vulnerable. It was the whisper you rarely admit out loud:

“Maybe this time, someone will finally choose me.”

“Maybe this time, I won’t have to be the strong one.”

“Maybe this time, someone will see the parts of me I’ve hidden—and stay anyway.”

We rarely frame it that way. Instead, we call ourselves “independent,” “easygoing,” or “fine on our own.” But beneath the polished exterior, there’s often a tender hope—that maybe, just maybe, this person will finally land where nobody else has.

When Longing Looks Like Love

Take Amanda. On the outside, she was fierce and capable, the one everyone leaned on. But underneath, she carried a quiet, unresolved ache to be nurtured. Not managed. Not admired. Nurtured.

So when her ex first arrived with extravagant care and adoration, it felt like homecoming, like someone had finally noticed the part of her that was tired of being strong.

But eventually, the same behaviors that once felt like devotion turned into weapons. He began calling her “too needy,” “too sensitive,” “too much.” And Amanda did what so many of us do—she tried to shrink her needs. To need less.

Where Shame Slips In

That’s how shame works. It convinces us our longings are liabilities. That if we need too much, we’ll be left. That the safest thing is to tuck those needs away, polish up the surface, and pretend we’re fine.

And narcissists exploit that shame. They find the crack, wedge themselves in, and make you believe you are the problem. That your longing is the flaw. That you’re the one who needs fixing.

But here’s the truth: the most dangerous lie you were taught is that your deepest needs make you unlovable.

Healing means reclaiming your longing—not hiding it.

What Healing Really Requires

Healing doesn’t mean hardening. It doesn’t mean learning to want less or pretending you’re above needing connection.

Healing means reclaiming your longing—not hiding it.

It’s recognizing that:

• The ache you carry is not weakness—it’s a wound.

• Your need for closeness is not the problem—shame is.

• You are not “too much.” You are human.

When you meet your own longing with empathy instead of judgment, you stop abandoning yourself in the exact ways others once did.

Tending to Your Own Longing

You are not broken for wanting to be seen, known, and cherished without having to earn it. You are simply overdue for giving yourself what you’ve always hoped someone else would:

• Steady empathy

• Protective boundaries

• Gentle presence

• Unapologetic love

  
  

This is the work. It’s radical. It’s rebellious. And it’s the beginning of true healing.

Because narcissists don’t target your empathy.

They target your longing.

And when you stop calling that longing “too much,” when you tend to it instead of tucking it away, you become untouchable.