6 Mistakes That Say “I’m Still Available” (And Why Narcissists Eat It Up?)

You block the narcissists, and unblock them two days later.

You set a boundary and then explain why you needed it.

Every move you make whispers to them: “I’m still here.” And they know exactly how to pounce.

I know this story because it was mine.

I thought being the bigger person meant leaving the door cracked open.

But with narcissists, cracks aren’t boundaries. They’re invitations.

What I called grace, they took as access. Every time I tried to explain, to justify, to stay “peaceful,” I lost a little more of myself.

It’s not your fault; it’s a cycle they rely on.

But survival through self-abandonment isn’t strength. It’s a slow erasure.

Today, we call it out.

Here are the six most common mistakes smart women make around narcissists and how to stop making them, for good.

Mistake #1: Setting Boundaries, Then Not Enforcing Them

Why We Do It:

Fear. Guilt. Exhaustion.

Growing up, I was always told to “keep the peace” by my grandmother, especially around my narcissistic mother.

She had this way of flipping a situation until I felt like the villain just for asking to be treated better.

So I stopped asking. I stopped enforcing it. I let the boundary float, hoping silence would be enough.

I thought maturity meant swallowing discomfort. That love meant letting it go.

But silence, to a narcissist, isn’t strength, it’s surrender.  And I was surrendering in pieces.

Once, I told her I wouldn’t tolerate being yelled at in front of my toxic siblings anymore.

The next day, she raised her voice, called me disrespectful, and made me apologize for making her feel bad.

I remember sitting in my room afterward, wondering what I did wrong.

Why It Backfires:

To a narcissist, a boundary without action is a challenge, not a line.  It tells them they’ve still got power. That if they just push harder, you’ll fold.

And often, we do.

What to Do Instead:

Decide your no means no before you say it. Follow through like your peace depends on it, because it does.

A boundary is only as strong as the action that comes after it.

Mistake #2: Blocking Them, Then Unblocking Them

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Why We Do It:

Closure. Loneliness. That tiny hope they’ll finally say something that makes the pain make sense.

After one explosive fight with my mom’s younger sister, I blocked her.  It was the first time I chose peace over pretending.

But two days later, I unblocked her, telling myself I was just “curious.”  What I really wanted was to be seen.

I checked her status updates like they held the apology I was too afraid to admit I still wanted. And when nothing came, I felt smaller than before.

What hurt more wasn’t her silence. It was the reminder that I had opened the door again, hoping she’d walk through with remorse, but she never did. She never planned to.

That’s the trap: we keep handing them a second chance to do the bare minimum.

Why It Backfires:

Every unblock tells narcissists that they still have you on an emotional leash. They’ll pull and you’ll come running.

What to Do Instead:

Block as an act of self-respect, not punishment. And leave it blocked.

Their access to you should never be based on your lowest moment.

Let your silence be closure. Let your peace be the answer they’ll never get.

Mistake #3: Telling Them How Much They’re Hurting You

Why We Do It:

We think if we show narcissists our pain, they’ll stop. That maybe this time, they’ll finally feel something.

I remember crying in front of my younger brother after another one of his verbal attacks.  He just blinked at me, unfazed. Then laughed.

I thought opening my heart would soften his. It didn’t.

When you grow up in a toxic and dysfunctional family where pain is currency, you learn to trade it, hoping someone, anyone, will cash it in with care.

And when they don’t? You convince yourself you just didn’t express it clearly enough.

So you try again. Louder. Softer. Kinder. More broken.

But narcissists were never listening to understand. They were listening to learn where to aim next time.

Why It Backfires:

Narcissists don’t cradle your vulnerability; they catalog it. They don’t flinch when you cry. They lean in.

They use your openness as a map to your most fragile places. And when the time is right, they strike.

What to Do Instead:

Save your softness for safe people. Don’t teach someone how to hurt you.

You deserve to be heard, but not at the cost of your peace.

Validation isn’t worth the scars. Guard your heart like it matters because it does..

Mistake #4: Reacting Emotionally to Their Games

Why We Do It:

Because they know which buttons to press.  And when you’ve spent your life being their emotional caretaker, staying calm feels impossible.

There were days my narcissistic mother would twist a simple question into a full-blown character attack. 

I’d explode, then apologize just for reacting.

She once accused me of being a selfish daughter because I didn’t answer her call during a work meeting.

I lost it. Then I cried. Then I begged.

I didn’t know I was giving her exactly what she wanted: control. Because when I broke down, she got to play calm, while I looked like the storm. 

And in my toxic family, looking emotional was worse than being cruel.

I kept thinking if I could just explain better, cry the right way, she’d understand.  She didn’t. She just got stronger.

Why It Backfires:

Emotional chaos is narcissists’ currency. It feeds their ego, confirms their control.

They get to say, “See? You’re unstable.”  And suddenly, your pain becomes the proof they needed to keep the narrative alive.

What to Do Instead:

Stay calm like it’s armor.  Disengage. Let them drown in their own storm while you stay dry.

They want a reaction. Starve them with stillness.

Control isn’t won by volume; it’s reclaimed in silence.

Mistake #5: Expecting Accountability

Why We Do It:

Because we believe in repair. We believe people can grow and change.

But when my younger toxic brother betrayed my trust, again, and I confronted him, he didn’t own it.

He flipped it. I was too sensitive. Too dramatic.

That’s the game: gaslight, deflect, blame.  It makes you question your memory and your worth.

I replayed the moment over and over.  Did I really overreact? Did I misremember? 

It’s exhausting, trying to hold someone accountable who keeps rewriting the scene to make you the villain.

And deep down, I thought if I stayed calm, reasonable, kind and he’d finally hear me.

But narcissists don’t respond to kindness; they exploit it.

Why It Backfires:

Narcissists rewrite history. They never see the problem, unless it’s you.

They aren’t interested in truth, they’re interested in narrative. And they always write themselves as the victim.

The more you explain, the more they twist.

What to Do Instead:

Stop looking for the apology that never comes. Hold yourself accountable for your healing, not their behavior.

You don’t need their permission to heal. You need your own permission to stop trying.

Choose clarity over closure and walk forward without them.

Mistake #6: Leaving The Door Half-Open

Why We Do It:

Because closure is hard. Because we still hope. Because it feels cruel to slam the door.

For months, I’d go no-contact with my mom, only to reply a week later to a text that said “Hope you’re well.”

Three words, and I’d unravel everything I built.

I wasn’t ready to lose the mother I hoped she’d become. But hope isn’t always holy. Sometimes, it’s a leash.

And every time I cracked the door open, even just a little, she walked through like nothing ever happened.

Not with an apology. Not with change. Just entitlement.

I confused her access with healing. But what I was really doing was putting my pain on repeat.

Why It Backfires:

According to Fagan (2020), narcissists are quick to detect even the slightest hesitation in others and they feed off it, using vulnerability as a tool to manipulate and control.

Every opening is a portal back into chaos. They return not to reconnect, but to re-control.

Even silence from them becomes a test: Will you reach out first?

What to Do Instead:

Close the door with both hands and lock it. Then throw away the key.

Your peace was never meant to be a revolving door.

You don’t need closure from them. You need commitment to yourself.

Don’t wait for their change to choose your freedom. Choose it now and don’t look back.

Why You Must Close The Door For Good?

Every single mistake I made came from the same place: Hope. Loyalty. Love.

But narcissists don’t honor those traits; they weaponize them.

They don’t feel guilty when you hurt they feel in control.

Because every tear, every “let’s talk,” every second chance, tells them they still matter more than your peace.

The moment you stop handing out second chances like candy, you stop being their supply.

You stop giving your energy to people who only show up when it’s time to drain you.

You weren’t made to beg for respect. You were made to protect your peace.

Close the door. Walk away. Not because you don’t care but because you finally do.

For yourself. For the little girl who kept hoping she’d be enough.

Who thought maybe if she was good, calm, or quiet enough, it would finally feel safe.

She deserves better. So do you.

Close the chapter for the woman you’re becoming, the one who doesn’t explain, doesn’t shrink, and doesn’t return to what tried to break her.

They expected you to come back. They counted on your softness.

Now show them you won’t.

Not this time. Not ever again.