UNDER THE WILL… OVER THE DRAMA…

When the Narcissist Rewrites Your Story…

—

by

Mae Faurel
in

When They Lie About You: Smear Campaigns and the Narcissist’s Need to Win…

There are few things more destabilizing than realizing someone you once trusted is lying about you. Not just little lies, but full-blown character assassination. If you’ve ever been the target of a narcissist’s smear campaign, you know exactly what I mean.

It’s not just the betrayal. It’s the shock of watching your story rewritten in real-time, often before you even understand what’s happening. By the time you feel the need to speak up, they’ve already had a head start, carefully curating the version of you they need others to believe.

Because that’s the thing: narcissists don’t just want control. They want the narrative.

What It Looked Like For Me

I didn’t see it coming, not fully. I was grieving. I was vulnerable. I was tired. And amid that fog, a new version of me started to emerge, but it wasn’t me. It was a version filtered through someone else’s fear, shame, and need for control. A version crafted to discredit me before I had the energy to speak.

Suddenly I was “unstable,” “difficult,” “disrespectful,” or whatever else would cast me as the villain. The same hands that smiled in public held the knife behind the curtain.

It didn’t just hurt, it made me doubt my reality.

Why They Do It…

Narcissists thrive on control, attention, and image. When you stop playing the game, when you speak truth, set boundaries, or simply walk away, you become a threat. And threats must be neutralized.

So they begin their work:

  • Preemptive damage control.
  • Whisper campaigns.
  • Selective truths, twisted facts.
  • Smiling while painting you in shades of unhinged.

And they often do it so well that you feel like you’re the one losing your grip. That’s the point.

The Fallout…

People pull away. Some believe them. Some don’t want to “get involved.” Others stay neutral (which, when abuse is involved, is another word for complicit).

And you? You’re left with the ashes of your name, trying to decide if it’s even worth trying to rebuild it.

But here’s what I’ve learned:

  • Truth has a heartbeat. Even if it goes quiet for a while, it pulses underneath.
  • Some people wanted to believe the lie. That’s not on you.
  • You don’t have to explain your side to everyone. Some just want the drama, not the truth.

The Healing

I used to want to clear my name, explain myself, set the record straight. And in some ways, I still do. But not at the cost of my peace. Not if it means staying tethered to the same system that tried to erase me.

So I write. I paint. I feel. I move through the grief of being misunderstood. I let myself be angry. And then I try to soften, not for them, but for me.

I remind myself: If they could lie about me so easily, maybe they never really saw me to begin with.

And I remember the ones who do see me, still do. Quietly, steadfastly, without needing proof.

To You, If You’re There Now…

If you’re in it, if your character is being dissected behind your back, pause.

You don’t owe anyone access to your energy. You don’t have to fight back in the same dirty way. But you do get to speak. You get to feel. You get to reclaim your voice, even if it shakes.

This post isn’t to fix anything. It’s just a hand reaching out in the dark saying:

I see you.

You’re not crazy.

And you’re not alone.

Mae 🧡

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Comments

14 responses to “When the Narcissist Rewrites Your Story…”

  1. Tony Avatar
    Tony

    Well said.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply
    1. Mae Faurel Avatar
      Mae Faurel

      Thanks Tony 🧡

      Liked by 2 people

      Reply
  2. leggypeggy Avatar
    leggypeggy

    Sorry and sad you’ve had to go through this. I hope your post helps others going through this.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply
    1. Mae Faurel Avatar
      Mae Faurel

      Thank you, Peggy. That really means a lot. It’s been a rough road at times, but if sharing it helps even one person feel less alone or more seen, then it’s worth it. There’s a strange kind of healing that happens in the telling. 🧡

      Liked by 2 people

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  3. Bob Lynn Avatar
    Bob Lynn

    Your words hit something deep. The phrase “Truth has a heartbeat” particularly stayed with me – there’s something both haunting and hopeful about that image.

    I found myself wondering about the aftermath you didn’t mention: how do you trust your own judgment about people after this? Not just trusting others, but trusting yourself to see clearly who someone really is when they’ve shown you how completely wrong you can be about a person you thought you knew.

    There’s something almost existential about having your story rewritten whilst you’re still living it. It makes me think about how much of our identity relies on others’ reflections of us back to ourselves. When that mirror gets deliberately distorted, it’s not just your reputation that’s under attack – it’s your very sense of self.

    The bit about people wanting to stay “neutral” particularly struck me. I’m curious whether you’ve found that some of those relationships could be salvaged later, or whether that initial response revealed something fundamental about those connections that couldn’t be unseen?

    Also wondering: did this experience change how you share your story now? Not just with new people, but even with those who stood by you? There’s something about being betrayed so publicly that seems like it would make vulnerability feel impossibly risky.

    The way you’ve framed this as grief makes so much sense – you’re mourning not just the relationship, but the version of yourself that existed before you knew people could do this.

    Thank you for putting words to something so many experience but struggle to name.

    Liked by 3 people

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    1. Mae Faurel Avatar
      Mae Faurel

      What an insightful response, Bob. Thank you for holding all of this with such care and nuance. It means a lot.

      You’re absolutely right. When someone you trusted shows you how wrong you were, it cracks more than just the relationship. It cracks your sense of knowing. And rebuilding that inner trust, not just in others, but in your own discernment, is slow, tender work. For me, that’s been the real aftermath. I second-guess instincts I used to rely on. There’s a grief in that too, a loss of innocence, maybe, or the quiet confidence I didn’t even know I had until it was gone.

      And yes, “truth has a heartbeat” came to me in one of those rare, quiet moments. Because even when the truth is buried or twisted, something in us knows. It pulses. It might take time to rise, but it doesn’t die.

      You touched on something I haven’t spoken much about: how others reflect us back to ourselves. When that mirror is deliberately warped, when people buy into a version of you that’s been manufactured to harm, it does shake your very core. Not just “they don’t see me,” but “do I even see me anymore?” That’s the existential unraveling you named so well. It takes real inner anchoring to hold your shape when the world’s reflection turns to smoke.

      As for the “neutral” ones… some of those relationships faded. Some, I chose to walk away from. And a few surprised me, quietly circling back later with regret, or at least a deeper understanding. But that first response did show me something I can’t unsee: who could hold steady when things got ugly, and who needed things to be tidy to stay comfortable.

      Sharing my story has changed. I’m more measured now, not guarded, exactly, but more aware of who’s really listening. Vulnerability used to be something I offered freely, as a way to connect even. Now it feels more sacred, something that’s earned. I still believe in truth-telling. I have to, but I don’t throw it out into the wind anymore, hoping someone will catch it.

      As you said: it’s not just the relationship that dies, it’s the version of you that believed it was safe. That’s a hell of a thing to grieve. But even in that grief, I’ve found a quieter, stronger self beneath it all, not untouched, but more true.

      Thank you again for seeing this so clearly.
      🧡

      Liked by 3 people

      Reply
  4. Hitomi Avatar
    Hitomi

    I had a similar experience.🫂💖💕💕💕

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    1. Mae Faurel Avatar
      Mae Faurel

      Hitomi, I’m sorry you went through something similar. It’s such a hard thing to carry. There’s some comfort, though, in knowing we’re not alone in it. These shared threads matter more than we realize. 🧡

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  5. mjeanpike Avatar
    mjeanpike

    I wish I had seen this post ten years ago, Mae, because you do feel alone. Shocked. So very hurt. So incredibly angry. But you learn to move on. To not try and undo their words. For me, my silence was freeing :)

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply
    1. Mae Faurel Avatar
      Mae Faurel

      You’re so right, Jean. There is real power in choosing silence, especially when it’s not about retreat, but about reclaiming your peace. Thank you for sharing this, it’s a reminder that we do come out the other side.
      🧡

      Liked by 2 people

      Reply
  6. Carla Maria Baptista Avatar
    Carla Maria Baptista

    Not alone… that’s a powerful reminder. Healing often begins when we feel seen and supported.🥰

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply
    1. Mae Faurel Avatar
      Mae Faurel

      Absolutely Carla. There’s something deeply grounding in that, in being witnessed without judgment. We spend so long thinking we have to carry it all alone, but real healing starts when someone says, “I see you… and I’m still here.”
      🧡

      Liked by 2 people

      Reply
  7. Dusa Avatar
    Dusa

    Let them create a filter for the raw type of tea that heals you, even when it doesn’t taste so swell – no more random particles floating around that leave you chewing what should be sipped with a lingering bitter taste in your mouth by the time you realize.

    Now you can drink the tea hot, feeling the warmth and benefits, while they continue to watch you reaping benefits. Taking in only what serves you, not the other way around.

    Besides, life better when you surround yourself with the people that really see you, right?

    Thank you for sharing – your posts never disappoint.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply
    1. Mae Faurel Avatar
      Mae Faurel

      Oh, I love this, “take in only what serves you, not the other way around.” That right there is the real medicine. Life’s too short to keep swallowing what doesn’t nourish you — whether it’s bitter tea or bitter people.

      And yes, absolutely, life is softer, braver, and more beautiful when you’re surrounded by those who truly see you. No masks, no performance. Just raw, real connection.

      Thank you so much for your kind words Dusa, it means more than you know 🧡

      Liked by 1 person

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