Narcissism revisited: how and why our definition has changed

Introduction

Narcissus, the tragic figure of ancient Greek mythology, was obsessed with his own reflection in a pool of water, unable to tear himself away. At first glance, the myth seems to depict one-dimensional vanity. Yet the story also hints at a far more layered process: the presence of the other (Echo), the reflective surface that functions like a mother’s admiring gaze, and Narcissus’s eventual entrapment in an illusory self-image.

Psychoanalysis, beginning with Freud’s early work and further developed by thinkers like Kohut, Kernberg, and Winnicott, has gradually expanded our understanding of narcissism into something more nuanced and, at times, paradoxical. It is not just vanity but also the developmental process of learning how to see oneself through the eyes of another. Indeed, the baby who “basks” in the mother’s eyes is participating in a crucial mirroring process. If everything goes well, the child learns a balanced sense of self—both separate from and related to other people. In so doing, the child learns to love both self and other.  When that balance is disturbed, defensive retreats can ensue, culminating in what might be called a “womb-like” enclosure where only the self seems real.

Yet, not all narcissism is a total retreat to the womb. Greek Narcissus himself is no longer in complete enclosure; he is more like a newborn who has stepped a bit further into the world but still requires the other’s adoration (as the pool or Echo) to buttress his self-image. 

Modern psychoanalysis goes even further, outlining a third, healthy space—the relational field—in which a person moves beyond “all about me” or “all about my illusions” and into genuine, anchoring, give-and-take. This is the zone where true relationships flourish, surprises emerge, and reality testing remains intact. In other words, the hallmark of health is the ability to remain flexible and engaged, rather than rigidly fixated on a single self-image.

And finally, we must consider celebrity narcissism—an illustrative example of “power corrupts,” where the individual’s reliance on a glorified social image effectively separates them from authenticity. This situational vulnerability may overtake even a relatively balanced person once they’re thrust into a position of adulation and influence.  This is related to the Greek Narcissus, but with a twist whereby adulation tempts an individual into a regressed, false-self state.

In what follows, we will explore these different “faces” of narcissism: from the newborn’s delight in its reflection, to the regressive womb-retreat where the external world nearly disappears, to the relational space of mature interaction, all the way to the celebrity scenario where power itself can inflate, or recreate, narcissistic tendencies. By seeing narcissism as a continuum of emergence from the womb, via mirroring, into the relational field, we gain a far richer understanding of how we might both recognize and navigate its presence in ourselves and others.





I. Greek Narcissus:
The “Newborn” in the Reflective PoolIn the classical myth, Narcissus is not devoid of an external world; rather, he has a surface (the pool) and he has Echo. The problem is that he only recognizes these external entities insofar as they serve his self-absorption. The reflection becomes a stand-in for the mother’s gaze, providing adoration without demand. Echo, too, is present but only in the most minimal sense: she can do nothing but repeat Narcissus’s words, offering no genuine confrontation, no independent perspective.  She is a co-dependent, one might say, as well as an object, a tool for Narcissus to buoy his compulsively self-oriented being.

The psychoanalytic parallels are striking. Heinz Kohut spoke of an infant’s need for “mirroring”—the child sees itself reflected in the caregiver’s warm, approving expressions. When the mother (or caregiver) looks at the baby with love, the infant basks in a sense of being wonderful, important, and safe. It’s not coincidental that those in relationships with narcissistic others will frequently describe a parent-child relationship they find both powerful and frustrating. This function, in children, is crucial for building a cohesive self; in normal development, it is gradually balanced out by reality checks, frustrations, and moments of attunement mixed with moments of misattunement. The child learns that other people are distinct beings and that the self, too, has limitations.

But imagine a scenario where this mirroring experience goes awry. The child receives adoration only in one direction (or not at all), and there is no robust sense of mutuality. That child might grow up stuck in a half-world of reflection—like Narcissus, forever gazing for approval in the pool but never genuinely seeing or hearing the other (Echo). This condition is not the total retreat of the womb, yet it lacks the truly relational dimension of a healthy self-other interplay.

Narcissus, then, can be understood as a newborn-like figure, partly emerged from isolation but still demanding that all eyes remain fixed on him. He craves the mother’s gaze (or the pool’s reflection) and fails to recognize the full humanity of others. In modern life, we often see this “Greek Narcissus” stance in individuals who have some capacity to acknowledge others but only so far as others serve as an admiring audience.  The failure is a love failure, above all.  Investment is limited to obsessive self-concern, rather than reliably esteeming the self and the other.  Where is Narcissus’s wider interest, his concern and care for the world?  Where is his joy at finding it, and letting it inspire him?  Where is his (non-obsessive) ease with himself?  He is developmentally self-absorbed.





II. The Womb:
Ultimate Retreat from the Relational FieldAnother manifestation of narcissism appears when a person withdraws so completely from engagement with others that the external world becomes nearly meaningless—a condition akin to returning to the womb. This metaphor is powerful in psychoanalysis precisely because it describes a state prior to birth, prior even to the mirrored dynamic of a mother’s gaze. The womb is perfect enclosure; there are no real boundaries to test, no tension between self and other, no risk of disapproval or conflict.  Both self and other, in this state, are deeply coloured by projection, especially by idealization and devaluation.
Under severe stress—chronic depression, unremitting physical pain, or some forms of addiction—a person may regress into this womb-like self-enclosure. Relationships, external feedback, and empathy recede in importance; the psyche retreats into an almost solipsistic universe of self. This can look like:

• Covert or inverted grandiosity: “I’m the absolute worst, the most miserable, no one else suffers like I do.” Despite the self-deprecating content, it’s still all about me.
• Fantasy dominance: The individual constructs internal scenarios of how things “should” be, ignoring or distorting real-world complexities.
• Fragmented reality testing: Because the womb-state is self-enclosed, there is little room for outside input; others are either idealized if they pose no threat to the bubble or harshly devalued if they challenge it.

Consistent with other manifestations of the narcissistic continuum, the concept of “otherness” disappears almost entirely: all is self, all is projection, the real other is compulsively denied. In this case, the emphasis is not on capturing the other’s adoration but on insulating oneself from any demand or disappointment that might threaten a fragile sense of control. While classically we imagine narcissism as flamboyant vanity, the womb metaphor helps us see how a total retreat can be just as self-centered, just as grandiose, even if it manifests as depressed withdrawal rather than arrogant showmanship.





III. The Third Space: Healthy Relationality
If we imagine a continuum, from womb, to Greek Narcissus’s reflection-seeking quasi-emergence, we can also speak of a third, healthy space. This is where a person relates both to self and other in a balanced, reality-tested way. Unlike regressed, or developmentally stalled humans, who see others only as mirrors and selves as fantasies, the individual in this third space:

1. Engages With Real Differences
   They accept that other people have separate minds, experiences, and viewpoints. This is intrinsically interesting. They do not reduce the other to an admiring echo or a threatening intrusion.  Dominance is replaced by relationship with the other, in its diverse (non-self) manifestations.
   
   
   
2. Allows for Surprise and Growth
   In healthy relationality, there is the possibility of being changed by the other. We can be challenged by someone else’s perspective, leading to personal growth and transformation. True relating means sometimes hearing uncomfortable truths.  Narcissism limits people, especially due to envy and grandiosity.  As Kernberg put it: “Envy fuels a refusal to accept anything from the other.”  In contrast, mature people are able to play with other ideas and other beings; they can enjoy their selves, and other selves as they interact.
   
   
   
3. Maintains Authentic Self-Expression
   The person recognizes their own needs, talents, and feelings without hyper-inflation or crippling shame. There’s enough stability in the self to handle praise without becoming grandiose, and enough humility to handle criticism without collapsing.
   
   
   
4. Balances Triumph and Disaster
   Drawing from Rudyard Kipling’s famous line—“If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster / And treat those two impostors just the same…”—a healthy self-other dynamic acknowledges the oscillations of life. One neither feels omnipotent in success nor annihilated by failure. There is room for both accomplishments and shortcomings, one’s own and others’, in the relational field.
   
   
   

In this third space, empathy and self-esteem coexist harmoniously. The person can receive admiration when appropriate, but admiration is not the sole fuel for their identity. They can empathize with others’ hurts without reducing them to a footnote in their own story. Genuine reciprocity is the hallmark of this zone.





IV. “Celebrity” Narcissism: When Power Corrupts
Narcissism often flares up under conditions of adulation or unilateral power. This is sometimes referred to as “celebrity” narcissism or situational narcissism—an extension of the old axiom “power corrupts.” When someone finds themselves in a position where they are constantly praised, catered to, or shielded from criticism, they may drift into a self-image that is inflated or even entirely contrived.

1. External Feedback Becomes a Hall of Mirrors
   Like the Greek Narcissus gazing into the pool, the celebrity or powerful figure sees only adoration. Realistic critique is minimized, either because followers are afraid to speak up or because the celebrity is insulated by a PR machine. This can undermine any healthy self-other negotiation, pushing the individual toward a grandiose stance.
   
   
   
2. Separation From Authenticity
   Over time, the celebrity can start believing their curated image is their true self. Social media “likes,” interviews, fans’ hero-worship—these all form a bubble that divorces the celebrity from the authentic aspects of themselves. Essentially, they exit the balanced “third space” and revert to a more Narcissus-like demand for adoration.
   
   
   
3. Vulnerability and Hubris
   Ironically, celebrities often have just as many insecurities and vulnerabilities as anyone else, but when those doubts arise, the easiest defense is to retreat into the illusions of grandeur. The result is both a refusal to accept limitations and a fragile self-esteem that shatters if the applause fades. The self-other dynamic becomes transactional: fans provide the admiration, and the celebrity attempts to maintain a public image in return.
   
   
   
4. Why This Matters
   The reason we point to “power corrupts” is that the environment itself feeds narcissistic inclinations. Even a well-grounded person can slide toward self-absorption when immersed in a field of false-mirroring. This underscores that narcissism is not only about internal deficits; it’s also highly situational.  Powerful people and celebrities who are wise to this problem often find themselves consciously grounding themselves in order to ward off the siren call of false-self grandiosity.

V. Vulnerabilities to Narcissism: Pain, Addiction, Stress, and MoreIn addition to celebrity or power-driven narcissism, people can temporarily adopt a narcissistic posture under conditions of exhaustion, illness, depression, or addiction. This phenomenon does not necessarily equate to a full-blown personality disorder; rather, it highlights the continuum and how easy it is for any of us to slip, or regress, into a more self-absorbed mode under duress.

• Pain and Fatigue
  When we are in great pain or utterly exhausted, our capacity to tune into others shrinks drastically. We may become short-tempered, impatient, and so wrapped up in our own distress that we overlook other people’s needs.  Our interest itself shrinks, our capacity to invest and engage in the world in meaningful, relational and creative ways diminishes.
  
  
  
• Addiction
  In active addiction, the substance or behavior can become the person’s singular focus, mirroring a partial “womb” retreat. Empathy for others diminishes, and relationships may be redefined solely in terms of whether they support or threaten the addictive habit. This state can be brief or long-term, depending on the severity and duration of the addiction.
  
  
  
• Stress and Overwhelm
  Under immense psychological stress—loss of a job, financial crises, intense emotional turmoil—the protective reflex might be to narrow one’s scope to “just me,” effectively blocking out the relational field in an attempt to survive.
  
  
  

These scenarios underscore how situational factors can derail our usual capacity for balanced relating. Once the crisis abates, many people re-emerge into the third space, regaining empathy and perspective. Others, however, may remain stuck, reinforcing deeper narcissistic patterns if they receive no corrective experiences or help.





VI. Charting the Spectrum: From Womb to Third SpaceIt may be helpful to visualize narcissism as running along a spectrum of self-other relationship:

1. Womb State:
   
   
   
   • Complete retreat; other people’s realities barely register.
   • Reality testing often severely compromised.
   • Grandiosity can be covert (self-pity) or overt (delusions of omnipotence).
2. Greek Narcissus State:
   
   
   
   • A partial emergence from isolation, but the other is recognized mostly as a reflection or echo.
   • Needs adulation to feel secure, actively seeks out mirroring.
   • Some illusions of perfection or specialness remain, but these revolve around external approval.
3. Third Space (Healthy Relationality):
   
   
   
   • Recognizes and engages with the other as real, separate, and worthy of mutual regard.
   • Balances self-esteem with empathy; triumph is not absolute dominance, and disaster is not total defeat.
   • Allows for genuine dialogue, surprise, and personal growth.
4. Celebrity or Power-Related Narcissism:
   
   
   
   • Situationally induced when a person is placed in a context of unilateral admiration, deference or the opposite.
   • Can exacerbate or create illusions of grandeur, especially if criticisms are filtered out - or opposite illusions of self-disgust, shame, worthlessness.
   • Might manifest similarly to Greek Narcissus (adores reflection, needs admirers) or, if threatened, recede into womb-like self-protection (cut off all opposing views).

VII. Why We Need to Think of Narcissism in This Way

1. Capturing Diverse Expressions
   The old stereotype—“narcissism = vanity”—is far too narrow. By acknowledging multiple states, we do justice to the complexity observed in clinical practice and everyday life. A depressed individual proclaiming they are “the absolute worst” can be as self-absorbed as the boaster who insists they’re “the absolute best,” even if the emotional tone is different.
   
   
   
2. Understanding Situational Vulnerabilities
   Recognizing that stress, illness, addiction, or sudden power can all activate narcissistic tendencies helps us see that narcissism is not always an ingrained personality trait. Sometimes it’s more a temporary retreat or inflation that arises from circumstances. This distinction can be crucial for compassion as well as boundary-setting.
   
   
   
3. Preserving the Relational Field
   The “third space” concept is vital if we are to cultivate healthy relationships. Without it, human interactions collapse into echo-chambers or complete isolation. Psychoanalytic and relational models teach us that genuine engagement is not only possible but essential for psychological growth and well-being.  This is a space we can consciously aim for with practice, knowledge and intention.
   
   
   
4. Illuminating “Power Corrupts”
   Celebrity narcissism reveals that even a person with no prior indicators of narcissistic personality might morph under constant adulation or authority. Social structures feed the Greek Narcissus need for reflection, just as the inverse, a lack of power and accurate reflection, can also have a corrupting influence.

1. Guiding Therapeutic Approaches
   By seeing narcissism as a spectrum from the womb-like enclosure to more outwardly directed but still self-focused states, therapists (and loved ones) can tailor interventions. For example, a celebrity in a bubble might need reality-testing from trusted peers, while a womb-retreated individual might need gentle, gradual reintroduction to genuine relationships, starting with empathic acknowledgment of their pain.
   
   

Conclusion
Understanding narcissism in these graduated, context-sensitive ways enables us to see it as more than just a pathological label. It’s a framework for recognizing the constant negotiation between needing recognition and needing to remain open to the other. Indeed, the measure of health or pathology lies in how we move (or fail to move) between these states. Do we become imprisoned by our reflection like Narcissus? Do we retreat so far into ourselves that the external world vanishes? Or do we stand in that relational field, meeting triumph and disaster—and everything in between—with enough self-awareness and empathy to keep the door open to genuine human connection?

Ultimately, it is in that relational third space that we discover the richest possibilities of being human, allowing for both self-expression and authentic responsiveness to others. Here, we need neither the mother’s constant adoring gaze nor the sealed-off womb, nor the endless applause of celebrity to define ourselves. We can be seen, see ourselves, and see others, as real. And that, perhaps, is the most valuable lesson of all: real depth, rather than shallow reflections, is where true fulfillment and health lies.  

It is nothing less than love that anchors the self-other dynamic. In this state, we experience healthy self-regard—neither exaggerated nor denigrated—and a genuine investment in the other that welcomes empathy, surprise, and reciprocal influence. Love, in this broader psychoanalytic sense, is the capacity to see both oneself and others as real and worthy. It is where self and other meet in mutual recognition, balancing the need for personal esteem with a willingness and desire to share in another’s perspective.
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By acknowledging that love in its fullest form comprises both self-love (self-esteem) and other-love (engagement with the world), we discover how truly relational health transcends mere reflection or isolation. We need neither eternal adoration from the pool nor total withdrawal into a psychic womb. Instead, we stand in the mutual dance of reciprocal relating, able to integrate success and failure, self and other, independence and connection. This is the zone where narcissism loses its hold—and where authentic human bonds, nourished by love, offer genuine fulfillment and meaning.

More than any other influence, it is psychoanalysis that paved the way for the shift in what we mean by narcissism.  The change, which some find perplexing, is actually due to greater rigour in what we are actually, structurally, speaking about when we use the term.  On some level, perhaps it is ironic that, in seeking to better define this condition, we have begun to shine a light on the true extent of this in-built, and most troubling aspect of human life.  It has always been with us, individually, and societally, and its influence should never be underestimated.  Especially when it comes to trauma and relational trauma, we would be foolish to return to an idea of narcissus that excluded his developmental dimension – he is, after all, a pervasive and foundational character in all of our lives.

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