When we dismiss the struggle of NPD entirely, when we deny the framework of the disorder itself, we aren’t being progressive. We’re creating a vacuum. Without the avenue for treatment, without the acknowledgment that this is a pattern that can be understood and managed, we abandon everyone involved. We end up with more abuse cycles, not fewer. Because you can’t seek help for something you’re told doesn’t exist. You can’t access therapy, you can’t find community resources, you can’t even begin the grueling work of self-awareness if the prevailing online discourse is just "they're just an evil asshole, end of story."
This is where the "NPD isn’t real" chorus shows its hand. It’s not just unhelpful or short-sighted. It’s an absurd interpretation that feeds directly into the myth of the perfect victim. The logic goes: if a victim’s abuser is complex, is themselves wounded, then the victim’s purity is somehow tarnished. To maintain a black-and-white moral universe, we must erase the grayscale reality of the disorder. It’s a comforting fairy tale, but a dangerous one.
Let me be unequivocal: I will not pretend that people haven’t been hurt, aren’t being hurt, and won’t be hurt by those with NPD. The wreckage is real and profound. Accountability is non-negotiable. Harm is harm.
But tearing down the entire diagnostic wall—not to build a better, more compassionate bridge, but just for an excuse to be blatantly ableist—is what truly upsets me. It trades the hard, nuanced work of healing and prevention for the cheap thrill of a hate-follow. It lets us point fingers at "demons" instead of examining systems and support structures. We can hold space for the devastated and recognize the disordered, not because we excuse, but because we understand that only in that difficult duality is there any hope for assisting those in need.