Jessica Knight

My story used to sound like this: “In my 20’s I took on the project of un-shallowing myself. I was going for the same kind of guy and getting the same result: an asshole with arm muscles who can go jab for jab with me but doesn’t prioritize me. I’d joke, ‘assholes are just my type.’ But I quickly learned that THAT kind of guy would never care for me more than his friends, or the gym, and he didn’t care if he treated me like shit. I needed to learn how to go for the nice guy, who maybe didn’t have the initial jab and or the 6 pack, but would treat me like a princess…if I let him.”

I am here to tell you that that story is actually bullshit. That story doesn’t even scratch the surface of what was going on.

Here is the real story: I went for Narcissists and assholes because it was more familiar to feel *not good enough* than to feel valued. That was my version of safe. That was what I knew love to be. I pushed away every nice guy that came my way and prioritized going back to hurtful relationships with men who never valued me for me (they valued me so long as I fit in the box they wanted me to fit in).

I grew up in an emotionally, verbally and physically abusive home where validation and safety didn’t exist. I was always alone and always in survival mode, even as a child. As an adult, I didn’t know how to trust myself because I grew up being invalidated. I wasn’t deserving of anything that seemed “normal,” like clothes that fit, birthdays that were celebrated, care given when sick, the ability to sit at the dinner table with my family, having accomplishments celebrated, and most importantly, having my emotions validated.

I went for the ‘bad boy’ from the moment I started dating in 5th grade. From that point on, I put myself in relationships with unavailable and emotionally abusive/controlling men.

As I got older, my system sabotaged every “nice guy” because it couldn’t handle it, it didn’t know what to do with it. I thought something was wrong with me. But subconsciously, the Narcissists were triggering my old wounds in an addictive way: the discarding, the not good enough, the unloveable, the not feeling important, and my anxious attachment.

At 29, I married a man I knew wasn’t good for me because I wanted my fairy tale ending: the career I wanted and worked for (life coaching), a child (I was pregnant) and a husband, all before reaching 30. I justified and overlooked warning signs for years – including relapses and my screaming instinct – for this fairy tale. I was the second most depressed I have ever been in my life, and when I finally worked up the courage to leave, it was after being a shell of myself and trying to leave 100 times before. 

After my marriage ended, I took 2 years off from dating (and sex) to heal. This was not done with intention – it was out of survival. I couldn’t imagine going out on a date. I was a single parent and the #1 provider to my 1 year old. I was in therapy 2x a week and working through it (and everything that comes from co-parenting), but it wasn’t until the pandemic, when everything shut down and I couldn’t distract myself from healing with workaholism, I was forced myself to look at everything underneath the anxiety — to actually admit for the first time ever that I went through trauma growing up, and to understand the effects that trauma has on me, and how it was showing up in romantic relationships over and over again.

Now, I help women of all ages heal from toxic relationship patterns. I am trained in Narcissistic and Emotional Abuse from the Post Traumatic Growth Academy and is a Certified Narcissistic Abuse Specialist. I work with clients virtually and serves women all around the world.