Love-Bombed, Then Left Behind

The cycle is always the same with narcissists: idealization, then discard. They pull you in close with affection, admiration, or “best friend” energy, only to push you away once your usefulness runs out. What makes it especially confusing is how warm and real it feels in the beginning—how much they convince you that you’ve finally found someone who values you.

I lived this cycle with someone I call The Identity Thief. For stretches of time, I was her “closest friend,” her confidant, the one she leaned on. She mirrored me, praised me, and showered me with attention. At first, it felt genuine. But later, I learned this was her way of keeping me tied in—a love-bomb of friendship.

The Shelving Game

The Identity Thief had a habit: every time she found a new “best friend,” she would quietly shelve me. It was her version of discard—not a clean break, but a way of putting me back on the shelf until she decided I was useful again.

At first, being shelved stung. It felt like being erased, like I had only been a placeholder until someone shinier came along. She would vanish for weeks, sometimes longer, pouring all her energy into grooming her new subject while I sat on the sidelines, watching her rewrite the same script with someone else.

But as I started to notice her patterns, I actually began to welcome the shelving. The distance gave me space to breathe, space to think, and space to feel like myself again. What once felt like rejection began to feel like relief.

Family, Romance, and Work—The Same Pattern

The cycle of idealization and discard doesn’t just happen in friendships. It shows up in families—when a parent showers one child with praise one day, only to discard them for another sibling the next. It shows up in romantic relationships, where love-bombing soon fades into silence, criticism, or indifference once the chase is over. It shows up at work too, when a boss or coworker praises you as their “right-hand” one day, then suddenly undermines or isolates you the next.

No matter the setting, the rhythm is the same: first you’re indispensable, then you’re invisible.

Best Friend Energy → Erasure

With the Identity Thief, the switch was always jarring. One day, I was her “everything.” The next, I was shelved—erased, replaced by someone else who was busy copying me while she watched it play out.

And yet, even after discarding me, she never let me go completely. Like many narcissists, she wanted to keep me in her rotation of supply. Sometimes she circled back with small gestures or attempts to reconnect once her new subjects lost their shine. But by then, I knew her game too well.

My Choice to Walk Away

In every narcissistic connection I’ve ever had, the discard phase taught me the same lesson: I had to choose myself. With the Identity Thief, I eventually cut myself away for good.

Of course, in family or work situations, it isn’t always possible to walk away entirely. That’s when I choose to limit contact as much as possible. Boundaries become a lifeline. Distance becomes protection.

Closing Reflection

If you’ve ever been love-bombed and then left behind, know this: you didn’t lose a real bond, you lost a performance. The “best friend” energy was never about you—it was about them, their need for supply, their fear of being ordinary without someone to mirror or manipulate.

Being shelved or discarded doesn’t define your worth. It only exposes their pattern. And once you see the pattern, you get to decide: do you stay in their cycle, or do you step out for good?

For me, I chose to step out. And oddly enough, I came to see the discard for what it really was: freedom in disguise.