We hear a lot about the pain, the battles, the never-ending games narcissists play in court and beyond. And we should — this journey is brutal. But what we don’t hear enough about are the wins. Maybe because they rarely look like what we imagined. Maybe because they come wrapped in loss, grief, and years of struggle. Maybe because our definition of “winning” had to shift completely just to survive.
But still — there are wins.
And they deserve to be seen.
Because someone going through it right now needs to know that it’s possible.
In my case, one win didn’t look like much on paper — just a clause in our parenting plan. But it changed everything. It forced my ex to either take the kids to their activities himself or let me do it. No third-party stand-ins, no flying monkeys, no nanny to dodge accountability. He signed it without realizing the long-term impact, too focused on parenting time to notice parenting responsibility.
It turned out to be a lifeline. For my kids, it meant consistency. It meant they could keep doing the things they loved — and show up for the big games, the recitals, the events that mattered. For me, it exposed the hypocrisy in his claims. If you’re being “alienated,” wouldn’t you want to show up for your child’s soccer game?
Another quiet triumph: keeping my house. He fought me for it, even though I’d purchased it myself, with my money, in my name. He tried every angle, but I held the line. Yes, I eventually had to sell it to pay off legal fees (thank you, justice system), but I got to sell it on my terms. That mattered.
And then there was the 401(k). Just a few thousand dollars, but somehow, he wanted it. It was part of the leverage I gave up to avoid him filing for bankruptcy. But due to an oversight by his lawyer — I got to keep it. It’s not about the money. It’s about the moment you finally get something the narcissist can’t take from you.
He built a successful business during the marriage while I raised a children while keeping us afloat working my full-time job. Then he hid assets, defied discovery orders, and stonewalled the entire process, which greatly increased the fees I had to pay my attorney. It felt cruel and unfair that I even had to fight to keep what was obviously mine. That I had to negotiate from a place of exhaustion and fear while he played games with our finances — and our kids. But I still walked away with something he couldn’t destroy.
That was my win. And yes — he’s still mad.
So let’s celebrate the triumphs — even the ones that don’t make headlines.
The parenting clause that kept your child safe.
The moment your truth was finally believed.
The day your child said, “I know you’ve always been there for me.”
Or the fraction of peace you carved out after years of chaos.
These wins are gold.
They are proof.
And they are the fuel that helps the next person keep going.
Share yours — no matter how small. You never know who you’ll help.
