When Accusations Are Confessions in Disguise..

It was 2020. Lock down had just hit. The world was a weird, anxious place, and like most people, I was just trying to get through each day without losing my mind. I remember sitting outside in the sun, hoping for a little peace and fresh air when Bully came storming out of the house.

His issue?
The internet bill.

Now, for a bit of context, at that time, the family wasn’t paying me a cent. The government was covering me as I was a carer, like it was for a lot of people during that madness. I was living at home with my dad, who wasn’t yet diagnosed with dementia but was already showing signs if you were paying attention. And Bully? He decided that somehow, this internet bill being a bit higher was my doing. Not because the plan was outdated or because nobody had bothered to upgrade it for the same price, no – it was me. Apparently, I was taking advantage of an old age pensioner. My father.

And if that wasn’t rich enough, he threw in this little gem:
‘And you’ll be eligible for an old age pension yourself in a few years!‘

Right. So, here I was, a so-called ‘almost old age pensioner’ (which, for the record, I’m not and don’t plan on acting like one anytime soon) – being bullied by a grown man whose own behavior was straight-up abusive, while I was doing my best to care for my dad in a house full of unspoken tensions.

But here’s the thing.
This wasn’t about an internet bill. It wasn’t about money. It wasn’t even really about me.
This was projection.

The Narcissist’s Magic Trick

If you’ve ever dealt with a narcissist, you’ll know this move. They accuse you of exactly what they’re doing. It’s their ugly little magic trick, a way to flip the script so you’re too busy defending yourself to stop and notice their behavior.

They can’t stand accountability. It burns them. So instead, they pass it off to you.

You become the selfish one.
You become the manipulator.
You become the problem.

When in reality, what they’re doing is showing their hand.

And the sad thing is, it works.
At least for a while.
Because when someone you should be able to trust, a family member, no less, looks you in the eye and says you’re taking advantage of your own father, it hits somewhere deep. It shakes your sense of self. You start second-guessing things you shouldn’t have to. And they know it.

Why It Hurts More When It’s Family

This stuff cuts deeper when it comes from the people you grew up with. People who should know better.
It’s not just manipulation.
It’s betrayal.

When you realize that someone’s loyalty is to their own ego first and foremost, and not to you, not to family, not to decency – it stings. And no matter how old you are, it takes a piece out of you.

I’ve since learned, though, that what hurts also teaches.

What I Know Now

I know now that when a narcissist accuses you of something terrible, it’s often a confession in disguise.
It’s their twisted way of unloading their guilt without having to own it.

And the best thing you can do?
Don’t take the bait.
Recognize it for what it is: a cheap, desperate move.
You don’t owe them your peace of mind. You don’t owe them a reaction.

If anything, being accused by a narcissist is a backwards kind of compliment. It means you’re not playing their game and they hate that.

For the Record…

I might be a few years older now, but I’m still young at heart.
I’ll be the one dancing barefoot in the kitchen, laughing at my own jokes, chasing Wi-Fi signals like they’re fireflies, long after Bullies like that are just a bad memory.

And maybe that’s the real revenge.
To live well.
To stay kind.
To never become what tried to break you.