When Your Narcissist Tries to Ruin You… But Accidentally Gets Himself Investigated

Dear Sir Gaslight-a-Lot,

So... you told the teachers that the police put me in prison?

Oh, my dear deluded duke of damage control — you really thought that was going to stick?

Let me ask you something: do you ever stop to wonder why no one outside your carefully curated fan club buys your narrative? Maybe the child welfare worker was fooled — temporarily — but the rest of the world? The ones who know you longer than a five-minute monologue? They see you. Your mask is about as thin as your alimony excuses.

Now let’s talk about that prison stunt.

Yes, I spent 24 hours in jail. No, it didn’t break me. You know what did break me? Spending seven years thinking if I just worked harder, if I just gave more, if I just made myself smaller, I could finally earn your version of love. That’s the real shame. Not the cell. Not the bars. But believing your lies while you slowly chipped away at me like a narcissist with a jackhammer and a God complex.

I’m not embarrassed I was in prison. I’m embarrassed I didn’t leave you the day you told me to get an abortion.

And guess what? While I was sitting in that cold little room thinking of my daughter, you were back at the police station the next morning — trying to twist the knife deeper, asking them to keep me locked up longer. But then something magical happened: they stopped listening to you and started looking at evidence. And just like that, you were the one under investigation. Awkward.

Turns out, when the truth comes to light, your two versions of events don’t quite match. Oops.

So now, Sir Gaslight-a-Lot, it’s you who will answer to the judge.

My 24 hours behind bars gave me something you will never have: clarity, power, and a spine made of reinforced steel. Seeing your frantic messages, your wild accusations, your desperate attempts to control the narrative — they didn’t humiliate me. They revealed me. They showed me I’m the one with real strength. Real integrity. Real love for our child.

You underestimated my intelligence. You always did.

And that, my delusional little duke, was your biggest mistake.

Warmest regards,
The Woman Who Walked Through Fire While You Played With Matches