When You Can’t Fake Sadness: Observing the Death of a Communal Narcissist

Recently, someone I knew professionally passed away. For the sake of his loved ones, I’ll call him Todd.

I found out that Todd passed through a Facebook post. Despite already knowing what I would find, I still read through the comments on the post.  I wondered if anyone would tell the truth about this man, or would it be a parade of polite fiction? Of course it was the latter. Comment after comment praised Todd as a charismatic leader, a champion for the marginalized, a mentor, a hero.

I recognized the man they were describing. I mean, even as I looked at the picture in the Facebook post, I couldn’t deny that Todd had an unusual charisma that somehow emanated hrough the pixels. This was a short man with a thinning hairline and a tummy pooch that still managed to make female clients swoon like they were in the presence of a soap opera star. That magnetic quality was real. But I also knew a different Todd. Primarily, as a man who carefully cultivated the image of a saint while quietly hollowing out the people around him.

I had the impulse to comment, “I remember him quite differently” on the Facebook post. Thank heavens I didn’t, but I don’t judge myself for the thought. It wasn’t bitterness on my part so much as it was a longing for clarity. A need to say, “You’re not crazy,” to anyone else who might be quietly scrolling through those same comments wondering if they imagined it all.

There’s a rule when someone dies: only the good gets airtime. But for those of us who saw behind the mask, this selective remembering feels like gaslighting. It erases our experiences. 

I won’t get into the details of how Todd harmed me or others, mostly because it wouldn’t be helpful for anyone reading this post. What I will tell you is what a communal narcissist is, how to recognize them, and how to manage the cognitive dissonance that happens after they pass away.

A communal narcissist is someone who builds their identity around being seen as good. Their self-worth is propped up by constant validation for how selfless or helpful they appear. They often position themselves as helpers, advocates, or moral authorities. Think the PTA mom, the choir director, the non-profit manager. They often take on roles that make them look generous, trustworthy, and deeply committed to others.

If you have the misfortune of living or working with a communal narcissist, you quickly learn they have one face in public and another in private. Think the PTA mom who screams at her son for getting a D on a spelling test, or the police officer who frequently drives while intoxicated. Their public persona is crafted with care, but behind closed doors, the rules shift. They may belittle, manipulate, or violate boundaries with little regard for how it affects others. In their mind, they’ve earned a pass. They’re the good guy. They’ve done so much for the community and no one is perfect. 

Five Telltale Signs of a Communal Narcissist (That Often Get Mistaken for Charisma)

1. They constantly talk about how much they’ve sacrificed for everyone else's benefit.

   Whether it’s their time, money, or emotional labor, communal narcissists keep a running tally of their good deeds and they will make sure you know it. They are the master of the humble brag. “Ugh, I have to go to this stupid awards dinner tonight. It’s full of blowhards, but I’m glad our organization is getting recognized.” The funny thing is, they are often the masters of looking busy while slacking off.  Narcissistic parents might over-burden their children with chores in order to maintain a “perfect home." A narcissistic boss often ignores the boring but necessary managerial tasks in order to spend hours at the water cooler charming others with his wit and wisdom.
   

2. They take leadership roles but have poor boundaries.
   They gravitate toward visible positions in leadership but act like children. The public persona seems warm, relatable, and even disarmingly honest. But behind closed doors they often make off-color jokes, overshare personal stories, or talk openly about drinking or sex in professional settings. It can seem like they’re just “keeping it real” or trying to lighten the mood, but over time, these blurred boundaries can become uncomfortable or even coercive. What starts as charm often becomes a shield against accountability.
   

3. They expect immunity from criticism.
   Because they “give so much,” they often believe they shouldn't be questioned. If you do push back, they may act wounded, accuse you of being ungrateful, or frame your concerns as an attack on the greater good.
   

4. They weaponize morality.
   Communal narcissists often use the language of ethics, justice, or compassion to elevate themselves and put others down. They may shame people for not caring enough or for disagreeing with how they do things, even when those disagreements are reasonable.
   

5. They lead dysfunctional systems.
   While they are praised for being great leaders, communal narcissists often create or sustain toxic environments. Staff turnover is high, communication is poor, and those closest to them may feel constantly on edge. If you look past the praise and into the actual structure they’ve built (whether that’s a community mental health agency or a family), you’ll often find confusion, burnout, and a culture of silence.
   

The damage a communal narcissist leaves behind can be deep and lasting. It’s hard enough to take insults from the schoolyard bully, but from a saint it’s even more devastating.

As you’re reminded of all the amazing things they’ve done, you may even start to believe that the problem really is you. After all, how could someone so admired, so “good,” be treating you like this unless you somehow deserved it?

Over time, this erodes your sense of self. You stop trusting your instincts. You second-guess your emotions. You shrink yourself just to keep the peace. And long after the relationship, job, or connection ends, the scars remain—especially if no one else ever names what happened.

How to Cope When a Communal Narcissist Dies

1. Validate how you feel.
   Conflicted grief is still grief. You don’t have to feel sad just because someone died. You might feel confusion, numbness, anger, or even relief. Remember that we aren’t responsible for how we feel, but for what we do.
   

2. Acknowledge that other people may have had a different experience.
   It’s tempting to call others naïve or fake for not seeing what you saw. But the truth is, communal narcissists are experts at managing impressions. Not everyone got the fangs you did. That doesn’t mean you imagined it. It just means they wore a different mask with different people. Importantly, it’s not your job to convince other people that they’re wrong and you’re right. Emotionally mature adults allow others to have feelings, opinions and experience that differ from their own. Hint: Stay out of the comments section.
   

3. Process your feelings with someone who gets it.
   You might not be able to say what you really think on social media  or a family gathering, but you still need space to process your experience.  Talk to a friend who understands, work with a therapist who specializes in grief or trauma, or write it down in a journal.
   

4. Allow yourself to remember the charming parts too.
   It’s okay if you miss their laugh, their advice, or the way they made you feel seen when things were good. Remembering those things isn’t a betrayal of yourself, it’s embracing the complexity of being a human being. Remembering everything also boosts your awareness of these patterns and you may be better prepared the next time you meet the communal narcissist.