Tiffanie Drayton - Black American Refugee : Escaping the Narcissism of the American Dream

I write this from exile.

I write to you from Trinidad and Tobago, the home my mother left behind when I was a child, betting on her familys ability to excel in America, in what was pitchedand embracedas a meritocracy. Americas trademark promise of protection for the huddled masses, of freedom for all, and Martin Luther King Jr.s vision of integration and equality were concepts that I internalized from a young age. I believed that with hard work and impeccable manners I would earn acceptance and recognition. I sought freedom from Americas history of dehumanization in the same way Black Americans always have: I worked to set myself apart. I was certain I had access to the mobility to someday lay claim to full citizenship and elite statustrappings traditionally for whites only. But despite every attempt to pull myself up by my bootstraps, I found myself sinking deeper into despair. Though I sometimes got so close to these designations that I could almost feel them in my grasp, I was never afforded unconditional validation or acceptance. Instead, over time, I realized I had been unwittingly cast in Americas caste system.

In America, I am a Black woman. The position I occupy is diametrically opposed to whiteness, and all that invented designation signifies. Beneath the glittering surface layers of Americas promisea promise whose seduction and lure grew in conjunction with the sway and dominance of capitalism over the global economylay layers of bedrock foundation built from the bodies of Black and Native people, bodies whose value to this country was in how they were used, and used up, not in our aptitude for tolerance, assimilation, focus, or commitment. Bodies that could be displaced on a whim; whose inherent humanity could be reduced to stereotypes and tropes. Marginalization and exploitation is the American history I wasnt taught in school but that I learned nevertheless.

In the end, I fled to Trinidad and Tobago as the only means to slip the constraints of the great American Dreama pursuit whose rules seemed to shift under me just when I was sure I was ascending. A project that taught me to revere self-sufficiency but thus kept me isolated, uninformed, and without allies, believing that instead of being alone, I was working toward precious autonomy, a successful striver. Even when I knew I had to leave, I still struggled to help others understand exactly what I felt it was necessary to escape from.

On January 6, 2021, I received a message from a close friend containing a single question: How did you know? Washington, DC, was under siege by violent insurrectionists, and my best friend was equal parts shocked and confused as the attack unfolded. The scene itself was of course unbelievable, but what she really couldnt grasp was that Id warned her about a possible coup attempt over six months earlier.

I dated a man like Trump, I replied. I know how far they will go to win.

Thats true, but its also far more complicated than my sharp and pithy reply. My understanding of just how far the former president of the United States would go to avoid the sting of public defeat was gleaned through a set of experiences that I would not wish upon my worst enemy. These personal experiences unlocked an epiphany for me about the trajectory of America by allowing me to finally understand the nature of a narcissist, a term that I once naively believed meant a person obsessed with their own beauty or attractiveness. After years of suffering through (and finally escaping) a romantic relationship with a man who promised me fidelity, bliss, and loyalty and instead dealt me constant abuse and degradation, and ensnared me in a cycle of chaos that oftentimes felt inescapable, I became more informed about what a narcissist really is, and how a narcissistic relationship works. Through my experiences in therapy, I learned that narcissism is an incurable mental-health problem characterized by an excessive preoccupation with self, a lack of empathy, an outrageous sense of entitlement, and a constant need for validation. I learned that it is not easy to escape the wrath of those who suffer with the disorder when you try to end the relationship with them, as America would do by voting Trump out of the White House. As I began to heal and empower myself to take control of my life, I learned more about the cycle of a narcissistic relationship and why they are so hard to leave. That cycleof being showered with love and offered intimacy, then being devalued and broken down, then being rejected, and finally being pulled back in by promises and grandeurinforms the structure of my story, because I see the power that cycle exerted over my romantic life but also the futility of my quest to find firm footing as a successful and settled American. My deeper understanding of narcissistic abuse illuminated truths that forced me to realize nothing I could do on my own would be powerful enough to save my relationship with my ex or the country I then called home. Toughing it out, working on myself, and even working on the relationship wouldnt be enough to fix it. The liberating realization that gave me permission to move on personally also became a catalyst for me to finally understand my relationship with America as a Black woman who had suffered the repeated blows of systemic racism. It too was an abusive relationship, made glaringly apparent by the election of Donald Trump. I could now accept that I did not have to settle for abuse, not from my ex or even from America.