The Day I Realised I Wasn’t Hard to Love – He Was Impossible to Please

By Vikki · UK single parent · narcissistic abuse survivor

Sometimes the biggest realisations arrive in the most ordinary moments – like making a cup of tea.

There wasn’t one big explosion. No movie-style ending. It happened quietly, in my kitchen, with a cup of tea in my hand: I wasn’t hard to love – he was just impossible to please.

It didn’t dawn on me when he was shouting. Or when he was lying. Or even when I found out about the cheating.

It came later, after he was gone, in the kind of ordinary moment you never expect to change your life.

I was stood there in my kitchen, in the UK drizzle, kettle boiling in the background, when the thought landed like a brick:

I wasn’t hard to love. He was just impossible to please.

The Slow Poison of “Never Enough”

Narcissistic abuse doesn’t smash you in one blow. It chips away at you with tiny, repeated cuts:

• “You’re too sensitive.”
• “You’re overreacting.”
• “You made me do this.”
• “You’re lucky I stay.”
• “You’re imagining things.”
• “You’re not as great as you think you are.”

On their own, they could sound like bad days or throwaway comments. But put together, on repeat, over years?

They become a script you start reading from without even knowing it.

I started to believe I was the problem. That if I:

• kept the house perfect,
• earned more money,
• looked “better”,
• smiled more,
• asked for less,
• made myself smaller, quieter, easier…

…then maybe he would finally treat me with respect.

But narcissists don’t reward effort. They feed on it.

The more you give, the more they take. The more you shrink, the bigger they feel. The more you twist yourself to please them, the more they enjoy watching you unravel.

They didn’t break you in one go – they chipped away until you forgot how whole you already were.

The Moment Everything Shifted

The big revelation didn’t arrive during an argument. It didn’t arrive in the counselling room. It didn’t even arrive the day he left.

It arrived later, in the gentlest way, through someone else’s mouth.

I was talking to someone who actually listened when I spoke. No eye-rolling. No sighs. No hidden agenda. Just a normal, emotionally healthy human.

And they said:

“You’re actually really easy to love.”

I froze.

Because for years, my internal script had been:

• too dramatic
• too emotional
• too difficult
• too needy
• too stubborn
• too much

But when I actually looked at myself – properly – I saw the truth:

I was loyal. I cared deeply. I worked hard. I showed up. I tried. Again and again.

The problem wasn’t that I was hard to love. The problem was that love was never what he was interested in.

He didn’t want love. He wanted control.

The Truth I Wish Every Survivor Knew

I wish I could go back to the version of me who cried quietly in the bathroom so my daughter wouldn’t hear, and tell her this:

You were never too much. You were never impossible. You were never unlovable.

You were trying to build something healthy with someone who needed chaos to feel alive.

You were trying to negotiate with a tornado. You were trying to love someone who only loves themselves. You were trying to grow in poisoned soil.

Of course nothing you did was ever “enough” – if it had been, he might have lost his power over you.

Not hard to love. Just finally remembering you’re the queen of your own life.

Life Feels Different When People Are Actually Kind

After he left and the dust started to settle, something beautiful – and strange – began to happen.

People:

• spoke to me with respect,
• didn’t make me question my reality,
• didn’t weaponise my feelings,
• actually enjoyed my company,
• didn’t need to tear me down to feel bigger.

The more I experienced normal, healthy behaviour, the more I realised how abnormal the old relationship had been.

I wasn’t hard to love – I was hard to manipulate.

That was the real “problem”.

I wasn’t too much – I was just not controllable enough. I wasn’t emotionally chaotic – I was emotionally reacting to chaos. I wasn’t needy – I was starved. I wasn’t dramatic – I was drowning.

The Realisation That Finally Set Me Free

One morning, I woke up in my own bed, covers still on, no one ripping them away, no tension in the air – and it hit me:

He convinced me I was hard to love because if I ever realised my worth, he’d lose his grip on me.

And he did. And I’m so glad he did.

Because the real me – the me I’ve reclaimed – is:

• calm,
• loyal,
• funny,
• loving,
• hardworking,
• resilient,
• and actually pretty fucking amazing.

Not hard to love at all. Just hard to break.

If You’ve Ever Been Told You’re “Too Hard to Love”…

If you’re reading this and your stomach is in knots because you recognise yourself – this part is for you.

You weren’t too much. You just gave too much to the wrong person.

You weren’t impossible. You were with someone who needed you to believe you were impossible, so you would stay and keep doubting yourself.

It was never your inability to be loved. It was their inability to love anyone properly.

You are easy to love. They were impossible to please.

Love, Vikki ❤️

If this hit you in the gut, please share it with another survivor who needs to hear that they are not hard to love.

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