A SF girlfriend called to vent about her 'roller coaster' relationship with an AI tech founder. On their first date, he proudly showed off his 30K Twitter followers, and since then, their romance has been a year-long push-pull cycle of grand gestures, emotional distance, and jealousy.
(In a nutshell, their dynamic is a classic push-and-pull. He chases her with grand gestures; she plays coy and tries to define the relationship. He pulls away, and she gets anxious. She pushes, and he distances himself even more—sometimes bringing someone else into the picture. She gets mad, flirts with other guys to make sure he notices, and then, like clockwork, he comes back with more grand gestures. And the cycle starts all over again.)
A year later, nothing’s changed. “It’s complicated,” she says, “but I can’t believe he is doing it again!”
As her friend, I could be really supportive or really blunt. Instead, I choose to be more “therapeutic.” “Isn’t it interesting,” I say, “that after all this time, knowing him and your dynamic, you’re still surprised by it?”
“He's a narcissist, right?!” She wanted me to put a label on her “sort-of” boyfriend.
Ah, narcissists. What a popular word these days, often associated with these high-profile, powerful men—usually from the tech or business world—who’ve mastered the art of charm and self-promotion. They’re the ones with big titles and carefully crafted public personas, perhaps working for some big-name boss, and beating their chests every day in the gym (you know, attractive inside and out). They’re these bachelors, somehow always on the market. Their official and non-official girlfriends always end up in therapy. It’s always complicated, and hard to define. (We’ve all dated at least one, right?)
“You want me to label him,” I reply. “I could, but what does that actually mean for you?”
It’s common for people to crave clarity—some sort of label or diagnosis to wrap their relationship issues (or deeper, their self-esteem issues) in a neat little box. A name, after all, gives us something to hold onto when everything else feels messy.
But what good is a label if the pattern remains the same?
Here’s a different way to look at things: instead of labeling someone as a “Narcissist” (NPD), what if we reframed it as a “Narcissistic Dynamic”? This shift takes the focus off just one person being the problem and opens up the idea that it's the relationship that’s stuck in a harmful pattern. Labeling someone with a personality disorder tends to imply that the issue is entirely internal to them. But the reality is, any dynamic is a dance, it’s “you-and-me.” Sure, some people might be more “toxic” than others, but I genuinely believe any toxicity exists in a system - you play a 50% role in it. (You CHOOSE to be a part of it, and you can also CHOOSE to leave.)
So what defines a narcissistic dynamic? A narcissistic dynamic isn't just about one person having a disorder—it's about a toxic relationship pattern where power imbalances thrive, and both people play a role in keeping the cycle going.
The ironic part? The person on the losing end often convinces themselves they’re getting something out of it. But when you ask them a simple question—"Has this relationship made you feel better about yourself?" Instead of feeling fulfilled, they’re exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally. They may have lost their sense of self, given up their autonomy, walked on eggshells, and sacrificed their own needs, all while convincing themselves it’s just a rough patch. The truth? They’re stuck in a toxic loop, not just in their relationship but also in how they see themselves.
In therapy, I often see clients trapped in these dynamics, believing that they are the problem.
And more often than not, these relationships can keep going for years and years, given all the suffering. This is because, sometimes, the person who’s suffering stays because the dysfunction feels familiar, or it meets some deep psychological needs. (Human psychology is weird, I know!) Leaving feels impossible, even when they know it’s unhealthy. (Go to your therapist for this part. This is the real work.)
And here's something important: it doesn’t take a diagnosis to end a bad dynamic. Forget about trying to diagnose the other person. Focus on your experience. Validate your needs and wants. Are your needs being met? Do you feel heard and respected? Or do you find yourself doubting your worth, feeling like you’re always falling short?
Healthy relationships should be a place of mutual respect and growth. If your voice is consistently silenced, something needs to change. And if the relationship itself can’t change, walking away isn’t a failure—it’s self-love. Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do for yourself is to break the cycle and walk away.
Note: It really doesn’t matter how “phenomenal” this person seems, or how “influential” their social media signals. These things are irrelevant when it comes to a loving relationship - most likely, they are the opposite index.