He Married a Narc, She Stole His Life

The small room was filling up on this very warm, and humid July South Florida morning. Old friends and family from New York had arrived at Palm Beach International Airport on the same flight without knowing they were heading to the same destination.

The backroom saw the family standing by Maddie Gibbs, draped in black and for the first time in Dean’s memory, with no jewelry.

As the Rabbi looked on, he lifted his head and said, “It’s time.”

The family slowly walked towards the front row and sat on the pristine, shiny bench with the Rabbi standing on the bimah looking at the chapel and reciting Psalm 23.

As Dean stood, reciting the prayer with the rest of the congregation, he looked to the left of the Rabbi and saw the pine box, the traditional Jewish casket he had identified moments earlier with his father. The strongest influence in his life was to be buried nine days after the birth of his son.

Yet, Dean was not feeling the loss that others were feeling. He was not looking at his mother knowing he had to be strong for her. He was not looking around at the people who had been integral in his life understanding when one of their friends passed away, it reflects their own mortality, leaving each with the thought they could be next.

He was not looking at his nieces and nephews who loved their grandfather. How, at such young ages, can they understand what today represents?

He was not thinking about his son who would never know such a wonderful and generous man and never see him cheer him on at school plays, music recitals, and sporting events.

He was looking at his wife of one year. It was another struggle. Another day he was told, “You always make things about you. Stop making this about you,” prior to the service.

No feeling for him. No concern about what he may or may not be facing. Guilt. Frustration. Loss leading to that part of you that dies inside when a loved one is no longer in your life.

He married a narcissist. Narcissists do nothing but create a vortex of drama that leads life into a cesspool. He never loved her. His mother introduced him to her during his father’s early diagnosis of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. After two dates, he never wanted to see her again.

His father insisted they go out again. After the third date, Dean explained that it was not a good match.

“Nonsense,” he was told. “Bring her to the house for Friday night dinner.”

As instructed, he invited her. She had been pushing to meet his family since their first date and was ready to marry him before they ever met.

Dinner was a match made in heaven for his parents and what he assumed to be the wife of their choice.

They loved her. She brought flowers, homemade cookies, and a smile. She made it her business to hold their son’s hand every time someone looked at her and to ask questions about all six of their grandchildren.

Prior to leaving, his father asked if she would like to meet them at the club next week for dinner. Dean was uncomfortable, but she was in love…with his parents.

As the weeks went on, she met his friends and the rest of the family. They witnessed her grandiose sense of self-importance, the sense of entitlement, and her need for constant praise and admiration.

Dean watched how she frequently demeaned, intimidated, bullied, and belittled his friends and family.

He tried to explain his unhappiness to his father but was told he was afraid of marriage and at 35 years old it was time. Time for him to start a family. “I want more grandchildren before I die.”

They etched the foundation of guilt in concrete. He lost friends and his family was sliding further and further away. His sister insisted she was not a good fit for him.

After explaining to his new girlfriend that either she makes some changes, or they needed to break up, she smiled. “We are never breaking up. If we do or if you bring it up again, I will drive to your parents' house and explain what a horrible person you are. I am the most important person in your life. Not your sister. Not your friends. Me.”

And that was it. His father insisted Dean buy an engagement ring and instructed him when to propose. The engagement would be short, and the wedding would be beautiful.

He loved his family and friends, but the more she stayed with him, the less they saw of him.

He was aware his life was changing, and she was the cause. He was unaware there was a name for the abuse he was living. She was a true narcissist, and he could not break free for fear of hurting his father.

His father watched her smile as she placed his son on a pedestal while dropping off homemade soup to their house.

His parents rarely saw the other side. The side that he saw all too frequently. She would engage in insidious, manipulative abuse by giving subtle hints and comments that resulted in Dean questioning his own behavior and thoughts. She never took responsibility for relationship difficulties and exhibited no feelings of remorse.

Her jealousy was causing him constant pain. It was a fit of different jealousy than he was used to. She was jealous of his friends, his family, and his job.

She met her supply when she interrupted his calls or spoke negatively of his mother and sister. The “Narc” forced him to take a stand against his sister, whom she believed was too close to Dean, forcing a family division that could never be corrected.

The division continued with his friends, his brother, and two jobs.

Yet here he was. Sitting in a chapel in fear of his next move. Could he stand up to his wife? Could he tell her it was not about him but about his mother? Would his fear of the narcissistic abuse relegate him into a bigger coward than he had already become?

How could he allow her to destroy everything he had worked so hard to accomplish? Now that he was a father, could he just walk away? Would he decimate his father’s memory by leaving her?

“How can I leave? We just had a baby. I have to stay.”

Dean Gibbs remained with the narcissist. Over the course of the next 19 years, she alienated him from his family and friends. She cost him multiple jobs and finally threw him out with nothing but the clothes on his back.

She alienated him from his two sons and ostracized him from his neighbors as she spoke about the abuse, he caused their family.

The narcissist was a game player, and she would not shy away from brinksmanship either, and until she saw that clearly, he was pretty much toast. When an honest and caring person like Dean Gibbs went up against someone more than willing to lie, happy to manipulate, and, at the end of the day, didn’t care about him, he never stood a chance.