The Parts of Ourselves We Disown: Narcissism, Boundaries, and the Relationships That Keep Us Stuck
What can Jackson Lamb and River Cartwright from Slow Horses teach us about the parts of ourselves we reject, and how reclaiming those parts might change our relationships?
Have you ever found yourself in a relationship where you seem to be doing all the understanding, accommodating, forgiving, and emotional heavy lifting? Perhaps you pride yourself on being kind, patient, or considerate. You try to see the other person's perspective, give them the benefit of the doubt, and keep the peace.
But somewhere along the way, your own needs get lost. You may struggle to say no, or you tolerate behaviour that leaves you feeling diminished. You might even find yourself wondering why you keep ending up in relationships that feel so familiar: and yet so unsatisfying.
What if part of the answer lies not only in the other person, but in the parts of yourself you've learned to reject?
In this episode of the Rebel Therapy Podcast, Michelle and I turn to the television series Slow Horses to explore a central Gestalt therapy concept: the parts of ourselves we disown don't simply disappear. They continue to shape how we relate to other people.
Sometimes, the qualities we work hardest to avoid in ourselves are precisely the qualities we need to reclaim to develop healthier boundaries.
Jackson Lamb and River Cartwright: Two Sides of a Continuum
If you've watched Slow Horses, you'll recognize the contrast between Jackson Lamb and River Cartwright.
River is earnest, conscientious, and invested in doing the right thing. He wants to prove himself, make a difference, and believe that people and institutions can live up to their ideals. Lamb, by contrast, is cynical, irreverent, self-interested, and seemingly unconcerned with being liked.
They're an entertaining pairing because each seems to embody qualities the other lacks. River's earnestness can make him vulnerable to disappointment; Lamb's cynicism can make him difficult to get close to. Yet Lamb's apparent indifference often conceals a sharp understanding of people and situations, while River's idealism can be both a strength and a liability.
From a Gestalt perspective, this contrast offers a useful way of thinking about polarities: qualities that appear to sit at opposite ends of a continuum but are both part of the range of human experience.
We can be caring and self-interested. Hopeful and sceptical. Generous and protective of our own needs. Accommodating and assertive.
The problem isn't necessarily that we lean more heavily towards one end of a continuum. We all have characteristic ways of being in the world. The difficulty arises when we become so identified with one side that the other becomes unacceptable.
If being a good person means never being selfish, what happens when you need to put yourself first?
If being kind means never expressing anger, how do you communicate that someone has crossed a line?
If being understanding means always seeing the other person's perspective, when do you make room for your own?
The more rigidly we define ourselves by the qualities we value, the harder it can become to recognize when we need something different.
What Does It Mean to Disown a Part of Yourself?
In Gestalt therapy, we explore how people develop patterns of relating to themselves, others, and their environment. Some of these patterns support us, others may have helped us navigate earlier relationships or difficult circumstances but become limiting when carried into adulthood unchanged.
Disowning a part of ourselves means treating a feeling, impulse, or quality as something that does not belong to us.
Perhaps you grew up in a family where anger was frightening, so you learned to suppress your own anger. Maybe you had a parent who was entitled, demanding, or preoccupied with their own needs, and you resolved to become the opposite: accommodating, considerate, and endlessly available to others.
These adaptations can make sense; they may help us preserve important relationships, avoid conflict, or maintain a sense of who we are.
However, there is a difference between choosing not to act in a particular way and believing we are incapable of having that impulse at all.
Healthy integration isn't about acting on every impulse. It's about being able to recognize a feeling or quality without immediately rejecting it.
You can feel angry without becoming aggressive and you can recognize a selfish impulse without behaving selfishly. You can acknowledge that you want recognition, attention, or influence without needing to control other people to get it.
When we can acknowledge these parts of ourselves, we have more choice in how we respond. When we cannot, we may find ourselves reacting automatically: or relying on other people to express qualities we struggle to permit in ourselves.
The Narcissist Trap: When Rejecting a Quality Leaves Us Vulnerable
Let's consider what happens when someone grows up with a parent who consistently prioritizes their own needs, expects special treatment, or struggles to recognize the needs of others.
A child in that environment may become highly attuned to other people. They might learn to anticipate moods, minimize their own demands, and work hard to keep relationships stable. They may also develop a strong moral commitment to being different from their parent.
Selfishness becomes unacceptable, anger becomes dangerous. Wanting attention feels shameful, and putting themselves first feels like becoming the very person they don't want to be.
These commitments may reflect genuinely important values. The problem is when they become inflexible rules that leave little room for ordinary human needs.
We all have moments when we want to be prioritized, when we feel irritated, when we want something for ourselves, or when we need to say, "This doesn't work for me."
If those impulses are experienced as evidence of being a bad person, it can be difficult to act on them even when doing so would be appropriate.
This can affect the relationships we choose and the behaviour we tolerate within them.
Someone who struggles to acknowledge their own self-interest may be drawn to a person who expresses it freely. Initially, that person's decisiveness or confidence might feel compelling. They may appear to possess a freedom the other person has never allowed themselves.
In our conversation, I describe one possible version of this dynamic as a kind of externalized completion: another person seems to embody something missing or disowned in us. Their willingness to take up space, pursue their own interests, or disregard expectations can feel strangely compelling.
But the sense of completion is fragile. We are relying on another person to carry a quality we have not learned to hold for ourselves.
And if that person's self-interest repeatedly comes at our expense, the attraction can become a source of distress.
This isn't a formula for explaining every relationship involving narcissistic traits, nor does it mean that everyone who has experienced a difficult childhood will repeat those patterns. It's one possible lens through which to understand why some relational dynamics can feel compelling even when they are painful.
Why Do We Get Locked Into Unhealthy Relationships?
Michelle and I approach this question from slightly different angles in the episode.
Michelle's emphasis is on the possibility that we can become attached to qualities we have disowned, experiencing them through another person rather than developing our own relationship with them.
I highlight another part of the picture: the way we can remain invested in a relationship because we keep hoping it will eventually meet needs that have gone unmet for a long time.
We want to be seen. We want to matter. We want the other person to recognize our experience, respond with care, or finally offer the reassurance we have been waiting for.
And so we keep trying.
We explain ourselves again. We become more patient. We try to find the right words, the right moment, the right approach. We may believe that if we can just understand the other person well enough, they will finally understand us.
Sometimes this persistence reflects a familiar relational pattern: if love and connection have historically involved working hard for someone's attention or approval, a more reciprocal relationship may feel unfamiliar. Familiarity can be powerful, even when the familiar dynamic is painful.
Fear of loneliness can also make change difficult. The prospect of losing a relationship may feel more frightening than the prospect of continuing to live with its limitations.
Over time, these dynamics can reinforce one another. The more we invest in getting our needs met through the relationship, the harder it can become to acknowledge that the relationship may not be able to meet them.
Understanding why a relationship keeps us stuck is not the same as blaming ourselves for being in it.
It's important to reinforce that the responsibility for harmful behaviour belongs to the person engaging in it. Exploring our own patterns is about recovering choice, not taking responsibility for someone else's conduct.
And nor do we need to diagnose another person to take our experience seriously. The word narcissism is often used loosely in everyday conversation, but a clinical diagnosis cannot be established simply because someone behaves selfishly or struggles in a relationship.
What matters here is the relational pattern: what happens when you express a need? Is there room for your perspective? Can the other person acknowledge their impact? Are your boundaries respected?
These questions are often more useful than trying to determine exactly what label applies to someone else.
The Unexpected Importance of Being a Little Selfish
What if one of the things you need to reclaim is the very quality you have spent years trying not to embody?
Not entitlement, not disregard for other people and not an assumption that your needs matter more than anyone else's.
Just an ordinary, healthy capacity for self-interest, and the ability to recognize that your time matters. That your preferences count. That you can disappoint someone without automatically having done something wrong. And that another person's frustration does not necessarily mean you need to change your decision.
For someone who has built their identity around being accommodating, even small acts of self-assertion can feel uncomfortable. You might notice irritation when a friend repeatedly cancels plans at the last minute or you might want to decline a request instead of automatically agreeing. You might realize that you don't want to spend another evening listening to someone complain about a situation they refuse to address.
Rather than immediately pushing these feelings away, you can become curious about them. What is the irritation telling you? What do you need? What boundary might help you remain in the relationship without abandoning yourself?
Sometimes the answer is a direct conversation...sometimes it's saying no. Sometimes it's accepting that you cannot make another person respond differently, no matter how carefully you explain yourself.
And sometimes it is simply allowing yourself to feel annoyed without deciding that the feeling makes you unkind.
You can be kind and still have limits
Many people confuse kindness with agreeableness. But kindness does not require you to be endlessly available, perpetually patient, or comfortable with everything other people do.
You can care about someone and disagree with them, and you can understand why someone behaves as they do and still decide that their behaviour is unacceptable to you. You can be compassionate without making yourself responsible for fixing another person's life.
In fact, acknowledging your irritation or frustration can help you recognize when a limit has been reached before resentment takes over.
A boundary might sound like:
"I care about you, but I'm not available to have this conversation tonight."
"I'm willing to talk about this, but not if we're going to insult each other."
"I understand that you're disappointed. My answer is still no."
"I'm getting frustrated, and I need us to approach this differently."
These statements do not require you to become cold or uncaring. They require you to acknowledge that you are a person in the relationship, too.
Integration Is Not the Same as Acting Out
There is an important distinction between reclaiming a disowned quality and behaving without regard for its consequences.
If you've spent years suppressing anger, integration doesn't mean unleashing it on everyone around you. It means being able to recognize anger, understand what it may be responding to, and decide how to express it constructively.
If you've disowned selfishness, integration doesn't mean putting yourself first in every situation - it means recognizing that your needs are legitimate, too, and that considering other people does not require you to erase yourself.
If you've rejected your capacity for narcissistic traits, it doesn't mean you need to become narcissistic. It means recognizing that wanting attention, feeling proud of yourself, or wanting your perspective to matter are not inherently pathological.
We all have a range of impulses and qualities. What matters is how we relate to them, how rigidly we organize our lives around avoiding them, and what we choose to do with them.
The goal isn't to replace one extreme with another...it is to develop greater flexibility.
We can be caring without being self-sacrificing. Assertive without being aggressive. Confident without being entitled. Considerate without abandoning our own needs.
This is where the Gestalt concept of polarities becomes especially useful. Instead of treating one side as good and the other as bad, we begin to explore how both might have a place in a fuller, more flexible way of being.
What Can Slow Horses Teach Us About Our Own Inner Dialogue?
Returning to Jackson Lamb and River Cartwright, we might ask what happens when we stop treating their differences as a choice between the right way to be and the wrong way to be.
River's earnestness can be valuable...so can his capacity for commitment and belief in what matters to him. But without skepticism, he may be vulnerable to manipulation or disappointment.
Lamb's cynicism can be abrasive..and yet his willingness to question appearances and refuse social niceties can help him see what others miss.
Neither pole tells the whole story.
The same is true of the different parts of ourselves. Our more accommodating side may help us build connection; our more assertive side may help us protect it. Our idealism may keep us engaged; our skepticism may help us recognize when something isn't working.
The question is not which side should win: it is whether we can draw on different qualities when the situation calls for them.
This also invites us to consider the difference between a thought and an action. Having an unkind thought doesn't make you an unkind person. Feeling envious doesn't mean you need to undermine someone. Wanting to walk away from a difficult conversation doesn't mean you must abandon the relationship.
When we can acknowledge our internal experience without immediately judging or acting on it, we create room for choice.
We can ask ourselves what the feeling means, what it might be protecting, and what response would fit our values and the situation in front of us.
That is very different from trying to eliminate every uncomfortable thought or impulse.
A Rebel Challenge: Which Part of Yourself Have You Put Away?
Think about a quality you find particularly difficult to tolerate in other people.
Perhaps it's selfishness, neediness, anger, ambition or arrogance. The desire for attention or the willingness to say no without offering an elaborate explanation.
Now consider your own relationship with that quality.
1. What did you learn about this quality growing up?
Was it welcomed, discouraged, punished, or associated with someone whose behaviour hurt you? Did you decide that being a good person meant never allowing yourself to express it?
2. Where might you need a little more access to it now?
If you struggle with selfishness, could you practise acknowledging your own needs before automatically accommodating someone else's? If you struggle with anger, could you pay attention to irritation before it turns into resentment? If you struggle with assertiveness, could you express a preference without apologizing for having one?
3. What would integration look like in practice?
Not becoming the person whose behaviour you reject, but allowing yourself a wider range of responses. What might it mean to be both kind and firm, both compassionate and discerning, both connected to others and connected to yourself?
You don't need to act on every impulse or turn yourself into someone else. You are simply exploring whether the rules you've inherited about who you are allowed to be still serve you.
And if these patterns feel deeply ingrained, therapy can offer a space to explore them with curiosity rather than judgment.
The Takeaway: You Don't Have to Become Someone Else to Become More Yourself
One of the more counter-intuitive possibilities in personal growth is that we may need to reclaim qualities we have spent years rejecting.
Not because every impulse deserves expression, but because denying parts of ourselves can limit our choices. When we can acknowledge our capacity for anger, self-interest, assertiveness, or even the occasional unflattering thought, we are less likely to experience those qualities as foreign territory that must be managed through other people.
We can begin to recognize what belongs to us, what belongs to someone else, and what we want to do about it. That matters in relationships: it matters in the boundaries we set, the behaviour we tolerate, and the needs we feel entitled to express.
And it matters when we find ourselves repeating a familiar dance, hoping that this time someone else will finally give us what we have been waiting for.
Perhaps the invitation is not to become more patient, more understanding, or more forgiving. Perhaps it is to become more fully present as ourselves: including the parts we have been reluctant to acknowledge.
You can be a good person without being endlessly agreeable. You can care about someone without taking responsibility for their choices. And you can set a limit without abandoning your capacity for connection.
Sometimes, the relationship that needs to change first is the one we have with ourselves.
Listen to the Rebel Therapy Podcast
In this Rebel Culture episode, Michelle and I explore the polarities embodied by Jackson Lamb and River Cartwright, the parts of ourselves we disown, and the different ways we understand why people become stuck in unhealthy relational dynamics.
Watch the full episode here:
Exploring these patterns in therapy
At Counter Current Therapy, we explore how past experiences, familiar relational patterns, and the ways we understand ourselves can shape our present relationships.
Therapy isn't about becoming a perfectly balanced person who never feels anger, jealousy, frustration, or self-interest. It's about developing greater awareness, flexibility, and choice - so you can respond to yourself and others in ways that feel more authentic and sustainable.
If you're noticing familiar patterns in your relationships, or finding it difficult to establish boundaries without guilt, book an initial session with Counter Current Therapy to explore whether therapy might be helpful for you.
This article is intended for reflection and education. It does not diagnose narcissistic personality disorder or suggest that any single explanation accounts for all difficult relationships.
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