I went to five therapists in Sydney – and none of them understood Narcissism
It takes a long time to build up to admitting there’s a problem – let alone taking it into a room with someone you’ve never met.
But by the time I was ready to speak to a therapist, I remember feeling hope. Maybe someone would finally understand my truth. I believed they would be able to help make sense of what I couldn’t name yet — offer clarity, guidance, even a way forward.
It felt like I was reaching a hand out of the confusing grey I was living in, hoping someone could catch it and help me see more clearly.
That first therapist listened quietly. I told her about my experience as I understood it at the time — which was long before I had even heard the term “gaslighting” or had explored the idea of emotional manipulation.
She nodded thoughtfully, then suggested that maybe I just needed to communicate better.
That perhaps I was being too sensitive. That if I could be more patient, more loving, or more forgiving, it might all get better.
On reflection, I can see now that she was totally under-resourced and out of her depth. She didn’t have a frame of reference from her own lived experience, and she didn’t understand Narcissism — or the red flags to listen out for in a story like mine.
Truly understanding how Narcissism takes shape
When you understand that victims of narcissistic abuse have been made to doubt their own reality, it becomes clear just how dangerous it is for a therapist to reinforce that confusion — to call their experience even further into question. It would be some time before I built up to trying again.
But I did and over the next two years, I saw four more therapists. Each time I brought my confusion, hoping for clarity. And each time, I left with the same gnawing sense that maybe it really was all my fault.
The last one was probably the most disappointing of all. By then, I had begun to secretly record conversations in my marriage and write down what was being said at home. I felt deeply ashamed — convinced I would take this secret to the grave — but I was so gaslit by then I was desperately trying to figure out what was actually happening.
In a couples session, I mentioned that I had a list of things I’d recorded and asked if I could read some of it aloud, with my then husband present. The therapist paused, then told me to put the list away. He suggested I stop taking notes, “wipe the slate clean,” and simply start again from today.
I can tell you this: if you’re taking notes or recording things to prove to yourself that they happened — that’s not you being paranoid. That’s a survival response. It’s a clear indicator of emotional abuse. You’re trying to protect your own memory from being rewritten.
Just last week, a client placed her phone on the table in my clinic and asked to record our session. I immediately said yes, of course — because I know how valuable it can be to listen again later. But on a deeper level, I understood exactly what was happening. Her nervous system was looking for secure footing — something stable, something that wouldn’t shift. None of those therapists I saw named what was happening. None of them saw it for what it was: Narcissistic abuse.
Narcissistic abuse is often covert
It’s not always bruises or screaming fights. It’s a slow erosion. It’s confusion. It’s love being weaponised. And unless you’ve walked that road, or studied it deeply, it’s easy to miss.
Eventually, I found the right support. It was life-changing. I became a psychotherapist because I wanted to offer the kind of care I couldn’t find when I needed it most. Today, I specialise in helping women who are healing from narcissistic abuse, emotional trauma, and burnout.
And I get it — truly. Not just the theory, but the lived experience of what it feels like to have your sense of self unravel.
If you’re in Sydney and looking for support with narcissistic abuse
If you’ve experienced narcissistic abuse, finding someone who truly understands what you’ve lived through matters. You may have spent years questioning your own experience, adapting to someone else’s needs, or losing trust in your own instincts. The right therapeutic support can help you begin making sense of those patterns, and find your way back to yourself.
I work with women in Sydney, the Southern Highlands and online who are ready to move beyond narcissistic abuse and emotional trauma. My work is warm, honest and deeply personalised, bringing together psychotherapy, nervous system healing and integrative therapeutic approaches to help you understand what has happened, rebuild self-trust and create meaningful change.
All new clients begin with The Threshold Space, a six-week therapeutic journey that gives us the time and space to work together with depth and intention. We explore the patterns that have shaped your experience, begin shifting the beliefs and behaviours that no longer serve you, and support change at a nervous-system level, so that healing becomes something you can begin to experience, not simply understand.
From there, there is no prescribed path. For some women, the six weeks provides exactly what they need. For others, we create a personalised pathway forward through ongoing one-to-one work, immersive therapeutic experiences, retreats or other transformational approaches.
Ready to explore what your next chapter could look like?
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Learn more about my work with narcissistic abuse
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