What A Therapist Does When He’s Dealing With A Narcissist.

A True Story: The artful skill of spotting a Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing.

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I sit down on the sofa first, my husband sits in the seat opposite before standing up to remove his jacket and stare idly around the room looking I know, for somewhere to hang his expensive clothing. I note the therapist clocking this. He takes my husband’s jacket and hangs it on the back of his door.

My husband has shown his hand.

I wonder to myself if the therapist has noticed the first clue of my husband’s character — his unmistakable self-importance. As the three of us have never met before, I know this man will be absorbing every cue, both verbal and non-verbal.

I am stiff as a board — my body is tightly wound up; unbridled agony from our 11 years together: heartbreak, tension, and anxiety and fear are scrunched up like a ball of old muddied paper disposed of long ago. My mind and my soul are heavy with anguish.

When our therapist asks us what has brought us here today, my husband — the love of my life answers coldly —

“Well I think Amelie should tell us as I don’t even know myself.” A disinterested scoff leaves his possession.