Sitting in a car with a narcissist has to be one of the worst times to be with them. Not only are you not in control of the car, you're trapped with them as they sit behind the wheel.
The car is the favorite place for the narcissist's mask to slip. It's you vs. them and nothing ahead of you but the open road.
The only audience (or person forced to listen to them) is you, and that's precisely when their true colors will rise up and show you exactly who they are.
No witnesses, no work colleagues watching, no in laws to perform for. Just you, the seatbelt, and whatever mood they woke up in. Feels a bit like a trap, doesn't it?
Today, I want to get more into that.
1 The car ride always starts small
It's the way it always is with these people; nothing ever starts off big, overwhelming or surprising. The narcissist is very good at creeping into your anxiety, making it awaken with a slow burn instead of the jolt they're seemingly famous for. First off, we hear the sigh.
It's never loud or obvious, but it's there. They hit a red light, and they can't stand to be inconvenienced. It's as if the lights are personally targeting them and holding up their journey, and the narcissist isn't happy about it.
Then you get that age-old commentary, where the narcissist tries to let you know exactly what they think at every single given moment. Why can't these people merge? You'd think they'd know how to drive. Unreal. What is it with people today?
By this point, you've started to feel a little on edge. Every corner taken is another excuse to reel off a list of reasons why this particular drive is the worst of their life.
You sit there, nodding along but trying not to say or do anything overly obvious because you don't want to offer the wrong thing. You don't agree with them, but it turns out it's easier to just go along with it because at least then the narcissist is temporarily pacified.
I had a client tell me she once mumbled, "yeah, terrible drivers," just to keep the peace, and hated herself the whole rest of the ride for saying it.
You already learned that trying to disagree with them never works out in your favor, so why bother?
2 Like a bolt out of the blue, in comes the rage
There is usually this line that someone else driving does to make the narcissist start to rage. Their anger is a little like a dormant volcano, and all it takes to erupt is one small shift.
That can be someone cutting them up, or maybe a driver ahead who doesn't know how to put their car into fifth gear.
One thing is all it takes to see that change, and to witness the kind of person you really don't want to be stuck in a car with. Are you KIDDING?! What do you think you're doing?!
The car horn honks, the brakes slam on, the lights start flashing in anger. You feel it in the pit of your stomach as it rises into an anxious ball in your chest. Your eyes widen, and you place one hand on the dashboard.
You try to think of anything to say to calm them down, but you know you're fighting a battle you'll never win. It's fine, you tell yourself. It'll all be over soon. This is no joke for victims.
See also 5 Creepy Things Every Narcissist Hides Somewhere in Their HouseIt's a place where they can feel the most unsafe, and unlike being at home where you can leave a room, or go for a walk, you're stuck in that car wondering when you'll get to pull over and get out so you can breathe again.
This is far more than simple frustration, because frustration fades. A narcissist's mood in the car will escalate, and if anything, that's what you have come to expect. Their next target for snapping or yelling at is usually you because you are there and it's easy for them.
If you weren't late, I wouldn't feel the need to be rushing! It's not you, trust me. You are not the reason the narcissist is stressed, you're the reason they have someone else to blame.
I had a client tell me her ex once screamed at her for breathing too loudly while he was overtaking. Breathing. In her own car. Make it make sense.
3 Shrinking in the passenger seat
There comes a point where all victims of narcissistic abuse have to sit aside the narcissist in the car, and they find any ways they can to be as small as possible while doing so. Ways people do that are:
You stop talking about how fast they're driving. They know, and you reminding them or asking them to slow down seems to provoke them, so you stay quiet. You stop suggesting you take another route that might be quicker.
The narcissist hates that you try to think you know it all when you 'know nothing.' You learn to sit and be as quiet as you can because anything you say or suggest becomes an argument that you didn't ask for, an argument the narcissist is clearly looking for.
I've been driving longer than you. Don't you think I know what I'm doing? You want to drive instead? You think you know it all?
The only option you feel you have is to sit in that seat and shrink, counting down the minutes until you arrive where you need to be.
And you're rehearsing your face too, aren't you? Neutral, pleasant, not too engaged, not too checked out. Anything to avoid setting off the next round of muttering.
You're sitting next to someone who cannot share space with other people, and they're currently sharing a very small space with you. Remember that.
4 The car ride reveals this
What people fail to remember is that in a car, there is no audience for the narcissist to impress. They have an image, but they don't have to protect it because nobody else sees them. The road isn't bothered, and it doesn't call for charm.
This is where the real narcissist shows up, and one who believes all the rules of the road don't apply to them. They're allowed to tailgate, they're allowed to speed through lights they shouldn't be speeding through, they're allowed to shout at other drivers…
…They're allowed to shout at you. The whole world doesn't know a thing, and as usual, yet magnified; the narcissist thinks they know it all. It's the same for every narcissist. If you know, you know.
And the worst part? You can't get out. You're strapped in, watching this stranger emerge at sixty miles an hour, and there's nowhere to go. Sound familiar?
5 The worst part and what you need to know
For the most part, I see victims apologize for things that aren't their fault during these car rides. It happens all the time; they say sorry because the roads are busy and you know the traffic may make you late and them mad.
You didn't have anything to do with the roads, yet there you are, taking the blame for something that has nothing to do with you anyway. The problem is, the narcissist plays into that, and accelerates the idea that you're the problem.
If you play a role, the narcissist will be happy that you did it. Before you take that car journey with a narcissist, accept that the stress in their minds was already there. You didn't cause it, and neither did the traffic.
This was nothing but an opportunity for them to remove their filter and unleash their anger into the world. You see the worst in them, and they know it. Pay attention to this, because this is the person you say you want to spend forever with.
Forever. Think about that. Every commute, every airport run, every rainy Sunday drive to see family. Same car, same driver, same simmering rage looking for a reason.
6 What happens when you're the one driving
Oh, you thought the passenger seat was bad? Try being the one behind the wheel with a narcissist next to you.
Suddenly they're a driving instructor with a grudge. "You're too close to the curb." "Why did you brake there?" "You should have taken the other exit, I told you." Every choice you make gets a running commentary. Every lane change is wrong. Every red light is somehow your fault.
And here's the strange bit. If you offered to let them drive, they'd complain about that too. Because it was never about the driving. It was about who gets to be in charge of the little metal box moving down the road.
You start second guessing yourself on routes you've driven a hundred times. Your hands grip a little tighter. You miss a turn because you can't think straight with them huffing beside you. Then comes the sigh. Then the "I don't know why you get so flustered." Right?
As if they haven't been picking at you for twenty minutes.
The car doesn't lie. Neither does the tension in your shoulders when you finally park.
7 The kids in the back seat notice everything
You think they're distracted by their tablets or staring out the window, but kids clock every single thing. The tone shift when a driver cuts in. The muttered insult under the breath. The way the atmosphere in the car turns cold in about four seconds flat.
See also The Narcissist Gets Sick on Day Two of Your Vacation, and It's Never RandomKids don't have the vocabulary yet to say "my parent is dysregulated behind the wheel," but they feel it in their little bodies. They go quiet. They stop asking for the radio to be turned up.
They learn very quickly not to spill the juice box, not to ask are we nearly there, not to laugh too loud.
That's a lot for a small person to carry on a Tuesday drive to school.
And later, when they're grown, they'll tell you the car was where they first understood something was off at home. Not the big blowouts. The car rides. The white knuckles on the steering wheel. The person their parent became the moment the doors shut and the engine started.
Kids remember. They always do.
