What I Say to Myself When Narcissists Made Me Question Everything?

There was a time I couldn’t tell if the voice in my head was mine or my toxic mother’s. Or my ex’s. Or my narcissistic older sister’s.

“You’re too much.”
“You’re impossible to love.”
“You’ll never make it without me.”

They didn’t just say those things once. They repeated them until I did too.

I didn’t even need them around anymore. Their words lived rent-free in my head, trashing every ounce of confidence I tried to build.

I questioned every decision. I apologized for existing. I shrunk myself down so no one would have to be “burdened” by me.

And for a while, I called that survival.

But eventually, I got tired of surviving. I wanted to feel safe in my own mind. I wanted my inner voice to sound like me again, not the people who broke me.

So I started saying new things.

Here’s what I say to myself now, on the days I want to give up, years ago.

Why Narcissistic Abuse Rewires Your Self-Talk?

Narcissists don’t just hurt you with what they say in the moment, they infect the way you talk to yourself long after they’re gone.

Their favorite tool? Shame.
They project it onto you over and over until you start absorbing it as truth.

“You’re too sensitive.”
“No one else would put up with you.”
“You always twist things.”
“You’re impossible to love.”

At first, you fight it. You try to defend yourself. But after enough gaslighting, guilt-tripping, and emotional exhaustion, something shifts.

You stop resisting and start repeating.

That’s how the rewiring happens. Slowly, subtly. And suddenly the harshest voice in your life isn’t theirs anymore, it’s yours.

You start policing your own feelings:

“Maybe I am overreacting.”
“I probably sound crazy.”
“Why do I always mess things up?”

It’s not your voice. It’s theirs, living inside your head, playing on a loop. That’s the hidden cost of narcissistic abuse: you internalize the abuser.

And that’s why healing is so damn hard. It’s not just about cutting someone off. It’s about learning how to talk to yourself again without their poison in the background.

You have to relearn how to believe your own feelings, validate your own experiences, and speak to yourself with the kindness they never gave you.

That’s where real healing begins, not when they change, but when your self-talk finally does.

And the first step? Learning to tell the difference between your voice… and theirs.

2. How I Started Rewiring My Inner Dialogue (Even When It Felt Cringe)?

I’m not gonna lie, the first time I tried talking to myself kindly, I cringed so hard because it was quite uncomfortable.

It felt fake. Forced. Embarrassing.

Like standing in front of a mirror and whispering, “You’re enough,” while a voice in my head shouted back, “No you’re not.”

That voice wasn’t mine, it was the one I’d grown up hearing. It was my narcissistic mother’s disgust. My ex’s sarcasm. Every person who made me feel small stitched together into one toxic loop.

But I kept doing it anyway. Not because I believed the kind words right away, but because I was done letting their words win.

I stopped saying things like “I’ll try” and started saying “I will.”

Instead of “I’m not good at this,” I’d say, “I’m learning. I’ll get better.”

At first, it felt ridiculous, like I was pretending. But here’s what I learned:

Your brain doesn’t care if it’s real. It believes what you repeat.

So I repeated better things. Every morning. Every time I caught myself spiraling. I’d replace the insults with something softer, even if I didn’t believe it yet.

It took time. I had days when the old voice screamed louder. But little by little, the kind voice started to sound like me.

The cringe faded. The shame quieted. And for the first time in a long time, I started feeling safe inside my own head.

If you’re starting this journey, just know, it’s okay if it feels weird. Say the kind thing anyway. Healing starts in the silence between their voice and yours.

5 Healing Self-Talk Shifts That Changed My Life

These aren’t fluffy affirmations pulled off Pinterest.

These are the shifts I had to fight for mentally, emotionally, and sometimes through tears. But each one helped me take my mind back from the people who trained it to hate me.

1. “I Will” Instead of “I’ll Try”

Narcissists love it when you stay small. And trying is just smallness in disguise.

I used to say “I’ll try” to everything, from setting boundaries to chasing dreams. It felt safer. If I failed, at least I warned myself. If I succeeded, I could be surprised.

But what I didn’t see then was that “I’ll try” gave me an exit door. A quiet way to expect failure without owning it.

And let’s be real, narcissists count on that. They want you to doubt yourself. They want you to be hesitant, and hesitant people don’t grow.

So I started saying, “I will.”

“I will leave this toxic relationship.”
“I will start healing.”
“I will figure it out even if I don’t know how yet.”

It felt bold. Uncomfortable. But also powerful as hell.

Because the second I said “I will,” I stopped giving myself permission to give up. And the moment you do? That’s when momentum begins.

2. “This Is Possible for Me”

This one wrecked me a little.

Because I didn’t realize how many times I’d whispered “That’s not for me” in my head.

Healthy love? Not for me.
Peaceful mornings? Not for me.
Confidence? Definitely not for me.

I had trained myself to believe that other people got the good stuff, and I got survival. I didn’t even realize how deeply I believed that until I started catching it in my thoughts.

Changing that script felt awkward.

But I started saying it, every damn day:

“This is possible for me.”
“I can have this too.”
“Good things can happen for me, not just to other people.”

At first, my brain fought back hard. It clung to the stories I’d been told by others: that I wasn’t lovable, smart enough, worthy enough.

But slowly, that new thought started to crack through the noise. And once you believe something is possible for you?

You’ll start showing up like it already belongs to you.

3. “I Will Prevail” Instead of “I Will Never”

There was a time I lived in “I will never.”

“I will never feel safe again.”
“I will never love anyone after what I’ve been through.”
“I will never trust myself.”

It felt final. Absolute. Like I had already signed the contract on a broken life.

But here’s what I learned the hard way: “I will never” is a lie dressed up as protection.

You say it to shield yourself from disappointment. You say it to soften the blow if things don’t work out. But what does it really do? It locks you in the very pain you’re trying to escape.

So I stopped saying it.

Now, I say:
“I will rise.”
“I will get through this.”
“I will prevail.”

It doesn’t mean I know how yet. It means I’m open to finding out. And sometimes, that one shift—from shutting down to showing up, is everything.

4. “I’m Allowed to Speak, and I Won’t Apologize for Existing”

I grew up apologizing for things that weren’t even mine to own, my tone, my boundaries, my silence, my sadness.

With every “I’m sorry,” I was trying to smooth things over with people who had no intention of respecting me.

So I started small. I stopped softening my voice in conversations that mattered. I practiced saying what I meant without following it with, “…if that’s okay with you.”

And you know what?
The people who loved me respected it.
The people who didn’t… left.

Every time I stood my ground, my self-respect grew an inch taller. Every time I didn’t apologize for simply existing, I began to feel like someone worthy of being heard.

You don’t need to speak louder, just clearer. You don’t need to be mean, just firm. And you never, ever, need to say sorry for taking up space in your own life.

5. “Labels Don’t Define Me, My Choices Do”

Narcissists are masters of labeling.

“You’re dramatic.”
“You’re too sensitive.”
“You’re broken.”

And the worst part? After hearing it long enough, I started repeating it to myself.

“I’m just not good with people.”
“I probably am too much.”
“I’m never going to be normal.”

But every time I labeled myself, I reinforced the very narrative they created to keep me small.

So I started rejecting the labels and focusing on the choices.

Not “I’m broken,” but “I’m healing.”
Not “I’m too sensitive,” but “I’m deeply intuitive.”
Not “I’m a mess,” but “I’m evolving.”

Labels are prisons. Choices are freedom.

You are not who they said you were.
You are who you decide to become every time you choose to believe in something better for yourself.

What to Say When Your Inner Critic Sounds Like Your Narcissistic Mother (or Ex)?

For the longest time, I didn’t even realize it wasn’t my voice in my head, it was my narcissist family and ex.

The way my mother would twist everything into my fault.
The way my ex would mock my emotions and make me feel “crazy” for having boundaries.
I didn’t need them in the room anymore.
Their voices lived inside me. Loud. Constant. Cutting.

“You’re too sensitive.”
“You always overreact.”
“No one else would deal with you.”

And for years, I believed them. I repeated their words to myself like affirmations in reverse.

But the day I started talking back, everything changed.

Here’s how I rewrote their words in my own voice:

What They Said	What I Say Now
“You’re too sensitive.”	“My feelings are valid. My sensitivity is strength.”
“You’re impossible to love.”	“I am learning to love myself and that makes me lovable.”
“You always make things about you.”	“It’s okay to advocate for myself. That doesn’t make me selfish.”
“You’ll never succeed without me.”	“I already am. My success has nothing to do with their support.”
“You’re imagining things.”	“I trust my memory. I don’t need their permission to believe what I know.”
“You’re being dramatic.”	“I’m allowed to have emotions. I don’t need to shrink them to be accepted.”

You don’t need to scream. You don’t need to convince anyone else. You just need to stop agreeing with the voice that was designed to break you.

And when your inner critic starts sounding a little too familiar?

Pause. Breathe. And choose a new line. One that sounds like healing. One that sounds like you.

Quick Recap and Key Takeaway

Narcissistic abuse doesn’t just hurt your feelings, it rewires your mind.
Their words echo long after they leave, becoming your inner critic, your doubt, your silence.

But healing begins when you take back the mic.

Here’s what matters most:

• Your voice isn’t “too much.” It’s powerful.
• Saying “I will” creates momentum. “I’ll try” keeps you stuck.
• Possibility belongs to you. Not just everyone else.
• You don’t need to apologize for existing.
• Labels don’t define you—you do.

Every time you replace their voice with your own, you reclaim a piece of your peace.

You are not broken. You’re rebuilding. You’re not dramatic. You’re waking up.

And the next time your inner critic starts sounding like your past? You’ll know exactly what to say.

Your Healing Begins with How You Speak to Yourself

If you’ve ever looked in the mirror and heard your narcissistic mother’s voice, or replayed your ex’s words in your head until they sounded like your own, let me tell you something no one ever told me:

You’re not crazy. You’ve been conditioned.

You didn’t choose those thoughts. You absorbed them to survive. But now that you’re safe, it’s time to let them go.

You don’t need to keep explaining yourself to ghosts.
You don’t need to keep apologizing for breathing too loudly, feeling too much, or needing more.
You just need to start choosing yourself, one word at a time.

That’s what The Next Chapter is about.

It’s a step-by-step roadmap to help you rewrite the story narcissists handed you and create one where you decide how you talk to yourself, how you show up, and who you become.

Because healing isn’t about fixing what they broke.
It’s about learning how to speak to yourself like you deserve to be heard.

And you do.