No, It’s Not You—It Seems the Narcissists Have Taken Over

On surviving the spiritual and emotional cost of a culture obsessed with itself

By: Tanisha Christie, LCSW (she/her)

Photo by Beyzaa Yurtkuran

You’re not imagining it. The world does feel more chaotic, more selfish, more performative—and yes, more narcissistic. If you’re exhausted by people who seem allergic to accountability, allergic to nuance, allergic to basic relational respect, trust that. Your gut is not overreacting. You're living in the midst of a profound spiritual and socio-political reckoning.

This isn’t just about your ex, your boss, or that friend who always centers themselves. What we’re experiencing is much deeper: a culture-wide distortion of intimacy, fueled by systems that reward dominance, detachment, and image management over mutuality and care.

Photo by Dương Nhân

Lisssttteeennn, Rugged Individualism is Emotional Starvation

For generations, we've been taught that to be strong is to be self-sufficient, to win is to dominate, and to love is to possess. The United States, in particular, has sold us the myth of the “rugged individual”—a person who needs no one, feels little, and wins at any cost. It’s no coincidence that narcissistic traits—lack of empathy, hypersensitivity to criticism, entitlement, emotional manipulation—thrive in this soil.

And now, we’re paying the price. Social media glorifies curated vulnerability. Workplaces reward performance over presence. Even in our most personal relationships, we’re often managing each other’s egos instead of building trust. We’ve learned how to appear connected without ever risking the kind of honesty that creates true intimacy.

Many of us desperately crave realness but find ourselves trapped in relationships that feel performative, transactional, or even hostile. We try to grow, to communicate, to show up—but keep running into emotional walls. And sometimes, the worst part is this: even people who claim to be “healed,” “awake,” or “conscious” end up gaslighting us further. They ghost. They breadcrumb. They spiritualize their harm. And they think they’re the ones being victimized—because they’ve never been taught how to tolerate emotional accountability.

This is what happens when systems teach people how to perform connection, but not how to live it.

Photo by Jack Sparrow

What does living in connection look like?  Well, it looks like showing up when it’s inconvenient, not just when it’s cute or clickable. It’s being willing to sit with someone else’s truth without trying to fix it, reframe it, or co-opt it. It’s taking responsibility when you cause harm, without getting defensive, without making it about your intentions. It’s choosing to repair, rather than retreat. It’s practicing mutual care, not emotional barter. And it’s learning how to hold space for complexity—even when it challenges your comfort, your politics, or your sense of self.

Most of us were never taught these skills. So we’re learning them now—late, messy, and in real time. And while you’re doing your best to evolve, grow, and stay grounded, others around you may still be reacting from their wounds. So when you start to feel overwhelmed, manipulated, or shut down, it’s not necessarily a sign that you’re broken. It may just mean you’re awake in a culture that wants you asleep.

You’re not crazy. The gaslighting of the collective is real. But so is your power to respond differently. And while you can’t control how others move, you can choose how you show up—with clarity, boundaries, and a commitment to not reenact the very harm you’ve survived.

We don’t need to fix ourselves to survive a broken culture. We need to stop managing everyone else’s projections and start honoring our truth. That’s the shift. That’s the healing.

You’re not wrong for wanting more. We all deserve better than this.

And while the world feels fractured, we are not powerless. We are not alone. We are evolving.

The revolution begins with how we show up for ourselves and one another—because real connection is not a performance. It’s a practice.

We are living in difficult times. But every time you choose presence over performance, every time you set a boundary instead of shrinking, every time you repair instead of retreat—you are participating in the healing of our culture.

You’re not broken. You are evolving.

And that evolution? That’s the revolution. Some tips below

Photo by Kampus Production

Six Ways to Survive Collective Narcissism

1. Honor Your Gut Without Guilt
   If something feels off, it probably is. Stop gaslighting yourself to stay in relationships that don’t respect your needs. Trust your inner clarity even when others try to obscure it.

2. Set Boundaries Without Apology
   Boundaries aren’t walls—they’re clarity. They protect your peace and clarify your capacity. You don’t need to over-explain them to people who benefit from your confusion.

3. Respond, Don’t React
   You are not obligated to match other people’s chaos. Pause. Breathe. Respond from your values, not from your wounds.

4. Practice Repair and Accountability
   Don’t just expect others to be accountable—practice it yourself. Learn how to say, “I was wrong. I want to do better.” This breaks the cycle of deflection and blame.

5. Prioritize Mutuality, Not Performance
   Seek relationships where both people are invested in growth. If you’re doing all the emotional labor, it’s not a relationship—it’s an arrangement.

6. Build and Nurture Communities of Care
   We survive better together. Find people who see you, challenge you, and grow with you. Interdependence is not weakness—it’s how we come back to each other whole.