Covert, the narcissist you don't expect.
- Albion Psychotherapy

- Feb 9
- 5 min read
Forget the sparkle and infectious grandeur of the typical overt narcissist. His charming ways, the look of a man who never has to ask, his subtle flirting, that cocky smile of someone who can do anything. Forget that wonderful man who turns everything he touches into gold. The one who is a source of pride to be around and therefore you must be grateful to him for shining with his light. Forget all this and imagine yourself face to face with the most sensitive, romantic and humble man in the world. You might think, “This person can't be a narcissist”. But you would be wrong. This person, whom literature calls a covert narcissist, as opposed to an overt narcissist (the grandiose and omnipotent person mentioned above), is just as narcissistic as the other. The only difference is that they have the disadvantage (for you) of being well disguised and therefore difficult to spot.
Difficult, yes. But not impossible. So let's not lose heart and try to isolate their characteristics. Let's always remember that narcissists are not “bad” people, they are just the first victims of their personality disorder and therefore they are suffering individuals whose pain must be respected. And respecting it does not mean that it is up to you to take care of them.
Now imagine meeting the Covert Narcissist (CN) in a bar. You won't be struck by their appearance. They probably won't be showing off designer clothes, and there won't be any super-luxury cars or motorbikes parked outside. They will strike you – if they strike you at all – for their unassuming air, for the humility that exudes from their pores, for their unkempt appearance, as if they had put on the first thing they found because they know that clothes do not make the man, and with their lack of attention to physical appearance, they implicitly ask you to look beyond appearances and see inside them.
Now imagine that you and N.C. are sitting at the table in the bar where you met. At that moment, he will hand you his calling card: his suffering.
It's as if he were saying:
Hi, I'm Sempronio and I'm in pain. And no one understands me.
His motto is something like Descartes' cogito ergo sum, except that “cogito” is replaced by “I suffer” and pain has an almost aesthetic function: in short, it's only worth it if there is suffering. And so he will tell you about the dramatic period he is going through. About how difficult his life has been: no one has given him anything. Or he will tell you about his ex who left him alone to lick the wounds she mercilessly inflicted on him (there are often one or more unstable exes to complain about in their stories). He may tell you about the bereavement that broke his heart, about a terrible misfortune that befell his life, changing it forever, about his dark days from which he would like to escape but cannot find the strength. You will then think that you could give him that strength, if only he would open up, if only he would allow you to. This intimate account of his great pain usually takes place at the first meeting, perhaps at the second, but always at a time when such intimacy seems premature and the revelation of this suffering is in fact bestowed as a priceless gift to a person considered special at first glance: you.
And at this point, which – I remind you – is only the beginning, you already feel intense tenderness. Does he provoke it deliberately, to manipulate you? Of course not, he does it for his own psychological survival, because he needs to feel your closeness. This sensitive and suffering man, perhaps a little shy and insecure, this man with such gentle manners, shows you his vulnerable side on the first date, and you return home with a feeling of tenderness that melts your heart.
What harm can someone like that do to you?
The answer is simple: he can do you all the harm that any other person with whom you can establish a dysfunctional relationship would do.
The covert narcissist, unlike his famous overt twin, harbours a blind and secret anger at the fact that he feels he was born “defective”: his life is more difficult than that of others, he does not receive the recognition he deserves, he does not shine at work (in fact, he often sabotages himself professionally), he feels like a misunderstood genius. The world does not realise how wonderful they are inside, better than others, and this wears them down to the point of exhaustion.
While the overt narcissist says, ‘If I'm not the best, I'm worthless,’ the covert narcissist counters, ‘I'd love to be the best, but since the world is cruel, I'll never make it, so it's better not to even try and save my energy.’ This is why they are hypersensitive to criticism; failure is always just around the corner, and you cannot make a comment to them without immediately triggering a passive-aggressive attitude: first they become depressed, then intransigent. Whatever you do will never be enough, and if it is enough, resign yourself to the fact that it is not done well. He will implicitly communicate this message to you dozens and dozens of times, until you feel truly powerless, truly incapable. He, for his part, will become increasingly controlling, selfish and judgemental. You will alternate between moments of anger and moments of great tenderness for his pain and suffering. You will feel as if you have been engulfed by the bubble of negativity that surrounds him and cannot escape it. You will see the world turn grey, the things that matter become muffled, your mood flattened to match his.
It is likely that the N.C. uses drugs or alcohol: they need them to numb themselves from a world that does not recognise them, to which they feel they do not belong. They also need them to cope with the pain of becoming aware of their limitations, sometimes even of being a narcissist. Yes, because covert narcissists often have greater introspective abilities than overt narcissists and can be extremely aware of their nature but not necessarily able to resolve it. In fact, this awareness only generates more suffering and frustration, creating a vortex from which it is very difficult to escape.
Probably at the beginning of the relationship, N.C. will keep you on tenterhooks: he would love to be with you, he will tell you that you are special, but he is too hurt, too insecure: he does not know if he wants to commit to a serious relationship, he does not know if he is capable of loving you as you deserve. An N.C. will open up to you a lot, it will be nice to talk to him, and at least at the beginning he will tell you many things. However, the only thing you should listen to is this last thing: when he says he doesn't know if he can love you as you deserve, he is undoubtedly telling the truth.
Even a broken clock, as you know, tells the right time twice a day.
But that's not why we wear it on our wrist.





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