by Lara Just, October 2026.

Understanding Narcissistic and Manipulative Dynamics

A recurring theme in my work as a psychotherapist is what happens when someone begins to recognise that a relationship they have struggled with for years may not simply be “difficult”.

Sometimes this involves a romantic partner. Sometimes it is a parent, sibling or friend. The circumstances are different, but I often hear something similar: “I thought I was the problem.”

Of course, none of us is perfect. Relationships ask us to look at ourselves, take responsibility and sometimes change. But there is an important difference between healthy self-reflection and gradually losing trust in our own perceptions.

In relationships involving strong narcissistic traits, manipulation or coercive behaviour, blame can become strangely one-sided. A person may find themselves continually explaining, apologising and trying harder. Their feelings are dismissed or turned back on them. An attempt to discuss something hurtful somehow ends with them defending themselves instead.

Over time, the question can shift from “Is this behaviour okay with me?” to “What am I doing wrong?”

A client recently shared a realisation from our therapeutic work on social media: “I thought trying harder would change the pattern…, but then I realised me trying harder was part of the pattern.” The post attracted around 110k views after it was posted, suggesting that the reflection resonated with many others.

Such realisations are not uncommon, and therapy can provide space to recognise relationship dynamics that may previously have gone unnoticed.

When boundaries have slowly disappeared

This is where boundaries often become an important part of therapy.

We sometimes think of boundaries as something rather dramatic: cutting someone off, issuing an ultimatum or saying a forceful “no”. But healthy boundaries are much broader than that.

A boundary begins with recognising: What am I comfortable with? What belongs to me? What belongs to somebody else? What behaviour am I willing to participate in?

For someone who has grown up with a highly self-focused, unpredictable or controlling parent, this may be surprisingly difficult. Children adapt to the relationships they depend upon. Keeping somebody else happy, anticipating their moods or suppressing our own needs can become so familiar that we carry these patterns into adulthood without recognising them.

Then something interesting can happen when boundaries begin to develop.

The relationship changes.

A healthy relationship can usually tolerate another person’s separateness. We may not always like someone’s boundary, but we can recognise their right to have one.

In a controlling relationship, however, a new boundary can sometimes be experienced as a threat to the existing dynamic. There may be increased blame, guilt, anger, charm, withdrawal or attempts to pull the person back into their previous role. 

Sometimes this can feel rather like a game of emotional ping-pong. You establish a boundary, the other person reacts, you find yourself explaining or defending your decision, and before long you’re drawn back into a familiar exchange. The original issue becomes lost in an exhausting back-and-forth and you may even find yourself apologising for something you had every right to express. Recognising these patterns can be an important step towards no longer feeling compelled to participate in them.

In abusive relationships, attempts to regain control can sometimes escalate, which is why safety should always take priority over simply becoming more assertive.

Why can it be so difficult to leave?

From the outside, people sometimes ask: Why would somebody stay? Why would they go back?

Human attachment is rarely that simple.

A relationship can contain tenderness, hope and connection alongside periods of manipulation or harm. The return of warmth after distress can make the attachment particularly difficult to relinquish. This pattern is sometimes described as a trauma bond.

Someone may intellectually recognise that a relationship is damaging and still miss the person enormously. They may leave and want to return. They may remember the wonderful moments and wonder whether they have exaggerated the painful ones.

Understanding this can replace the question “Why can’t I just let go?” with a more compassionate curiosity about what has made letting go so difficult.

When charm hides the dynamic

Another confusing aspect is that problematic behaviour isn’t necessarily visible to everybody else.

Someone who behaves very differently within an intimate relationship may appear charming, reasonable and articulate elsewhere. This can deepen the other person’s self-doubt: Everyone else thinks they’re wonderful. Maybe it really is me.

It can even complicate couples therapy. Where genuine abuse or coercive control is present, relationship counselling is not necessarily appropriate, because treating the situation simply as a communication problem can obscure an underlying imbalance of power and control.

The question, therefore, isn’t simply about who might be narcissistically wounded, or who might be labelled a narcissist. Perhaps more useful questions are:

• What happens to me in this relationship?
• Am I allowed to disagree?
• Can I say no without being punished, frightened or manipulated?
• Are my feelings and boundaries treated as legitimate?
• Do I still trust my own perception of what is happening?

A diagnosis of the other person isn’t required before we are allowed to take those questions seriously.

Boundaries are not about changing somebody else

Perhaps this is the part I return to most often.

A boundary isn’t a way of making another person behave differently.

It is recognising where our responsibility ends and somebody else’s begins.

We can communicate what we need. We can decide what we will and won’t participate in. We can step away from conversations or relationships that repeatedly harm us.

But we cannot make another person understand, agree, apologise or change.

Sometimes establishing a boundary improves a relationship. 

Sometimes it reveals something about the relationship that was previously difficult to see.

Either way, learning to hear our own “yes” and our own “no” can be an important part of finding our way back to ourselves.

For any comments or questions on this article or to enquire about sessions, feel free to contact me.