Sit in the Circle With Me
If you’re here, you’ve been through hell too.
They Wanted a Victim; They Created a Monster
1. Opening: The CircleStart with the “Circle” image → a sacred place where survivors sit together.Invite the reader into it: “If you’re here, you’ve been through hell too.”State the paradox: they wanted you weak, but forged your strength.2. The Narcissist’s IntentionThey looked for a victim to control, break, silence.Describe how they expected you to fold, disappear, stay dependent.Connect to Jung’s insight: most people run from their shadows, but the empath finally chose themselves.3. The TransformationPain turned into training.Betrayal turned into clarity.Exile turned into invincibility.Use lines like: “They tried to bury me in silence, but silence became my weapon.”4. The Monster EmergesExplain “monster” not as evil, but as unbreakable presence.Wise see you as free, unwise see you as broken/empty.That’s the crown of the chosen.5. Message to the Reader (the Circle)“If you’re here, reading this, you’re not alone.”Encourage them: choosing yourself is the first step.Pain will try to convince them they’re broken — but it’s forging them.6. Closing MantraEnd with a short, powerful line that doubles as a mantra:“They wanted a victim. They created a monster. Now the circle is unbroken.”
Paradox
They wanted you weak, but forged your strength.
They looked for a victim to control, break, silence.
It seems America itself trains people not to face their shadows. Narcissistic abuse being invisible allows leaders to get away with this atrocity.
My family did everything they could to make me fold, to disappear, and to remain dependent on them. They wanted me fearful of the outside world, never strong enough to step out in my own power, but always weak and frail—even if I tried to hold a job. As long as I stayed weak, their mission was accomplished. Their goal was to keep me lost, never able to reach the next chapter of my life. They covertly created problems for me to wrestle with, slowing me down so I would believe I could never make it on my own. When I was weak, they felt stronger. They pretended to be kind or helpful just enough to make me believe I couldn’t survive without them. That false kindness was really a leash, a way to keep control by manipulating my emotions.
My narcissistic father thrived on staging scenes designed to trap me. He knew exactly what would make me angry or loud, and he enjoyed pushing me into those roles so he could feed off my reaction. Every outburst gave him supply, letting him pose as the “smart” or “helpful” one, while secretly disrespecting me. He delighted in slowing me down with these emotional traps, forcing me to play parts in dramas I didn’t ask for. Even when I wanted to believe he wouldn’t stoop that low, every time I looked closely I could see the setup: his goal was always to make me feel filthy, worthless, trashy. And if he couldn’t pull it off himself, he would use strangers as tools—invading my privacy without my knowledge so I’d define my worth through their eyes. He enjoyed making me uncomfortable, physically and emotionally, because my discomfort fed his illusion of power.
Most people run from their shadows, but an empath eventually chooses differently. An empath chooses themselves. They learn to shake hands with their shadows instead of hiding from them. Yes, it is deeply uncomfortable. That’s why so many distract themselves, refusing to confront what lurks in their own depths. But when you avoid your shadows, they end up controlling you. They shape your habits, reactions, and choices. Facing them is the only way to stop living as a puppet—and the only way to reclaim your freedom.