If it’s a person that I know then it wouldn’t affect my view of them at all, because I already know them.

I hear how much this diagnosis weighs on you. You’re carrying around this knowledge that you have NPD, feeling caught between wanting genuine connections and worrying that being open about this could push people away. It’s a really difficult position to be in: wanting to be authentic with someone you love while facing all this stigma and misconceptions about personality disorders.

You’re not just asking about a diagnosis; you’re asking about how to navigate relationships, how to be genuine with people you care about, and how to handle vulnerability. These are deeply human concerns that go way beyond any diagnostic label.

I’ve know many people who initially saw their diagnoses as permanent labels that defined who they were. I get why: that’s how mental health has been presented to us for decades. We’re told these are distinct categories, clear boxes that people fit into. But here’s something fascinating that recent research has shown: When researchers studied over 3,700 people who shared the same diagnosis of major depression, they found over 1,000 different symptom patterns. More than half of the people had patterns so unique they appeared in less than 0.1% of the group.

This isn’t just true for depression; it applies to most mental health diagnoses. The whole idea of these being clear, distinct categories is breaking down as we look more closely at the science. In fact, despite decades of searching, researchers haven’t found reliable biomarkers for these diagnoses. The DSM workgroup themselves concluded this (page 8 of the pdf here as well as page 18 of the pdf here).

What does this mean for you? Well, it suggests that thinking of NPD as a fixed thing that defines you might not be the most helpful way to look at it. Instead of asking “Will people reject me because I have NPD?”, we might ask different questions: What patterns do you notice in your relationships? What kind of connections do you want to build? What helps you move toward those connections, and what gets in the way?

You mentioned being worried about your current relationship, about whether your boyfriend would still want to be with you if he knew about the diagnosis. That’s a really understandable fear, especially given how personality disorders are often portrayed. But I wonder if we could look at this differently. Instead of thinking about “revealing NPD” as a single big disclosure, what if we thought about building authentic connections in a way that aligns with what matters to you?

The real strength I see in your post isn’t related to any diagnosis, it’s that you care deeply about being genuine in your relationships. You’re wrestling with these questions because connection matters to you. That’s not a symptom; that’s a value. And it’s something you can move toward, step by step, in ways that feel right to you.

I know I often reference ACT and process-based approaches, and some might see that as my go-to solution for everything. But this situation perfectly illustrates why these approaches can be so helpful. Rather than letting a diagnostic label define your path, you can focus on understanding your own patterns, knowing what matters to you, and building psychological flexibility to move toward the life you want.

When you ask “How will NPD affect your social life?”, you’re asking a question that assumes the diagnosis drives everything. But what if we turned it around? What if instead we asked: What kind of social life do you want to build? What patterns help you move toward that? What patterns get in the way? These questions put you in the driver’s seat, not the diagnosis.

This isn’t about denying challenges or pretending patterns don’t exist. It’s about seeing them as processes you can work with rather than permanent labels that define you. The science is increasingly showing us that this is not only more accurate, but more useful for creating change.

You’re not your diagnosis. You’re a person trying to build meaningful connections while dealing with certain patterns of thinking and behaving. Those patterns can change. They might be stubborn sometimes, but they’re not set in stone. What matters is moving toward what’s important to you, one step at a time.

Honestly, don’t tell anyone except your partner. From what I’ve seen, revealing that kind of information often leads to more disadvantages than benefits. At best, people might not treat you any differently and won’t make assumptions about your behavior, motives, or credibility based on what they’ve read online. But realistically, you’re unlikely to gain any tangible advantages by sharing it. Keeping it to yourself gives you the most control over the situation.

I’ve heard stories of people who genuinely try to be good, fair individuals—people who contribute positively to society and the communities around them. But when they’ve disclosed being on the NPD/BPD/ASPD spectrum (or something similar), they’ve often been met with skepticism or outright mistrust. Some get accused of being liars, manipulators, or “puppet masters” with sadistic intentions, as though their diagnosis defines their every action.

I can only imagine how difficult that must be. You put so much effort into overcoming harmful behavioral patterns, making decisions that prioritize fairness and the well-being of everyone involved—not just yourself. And yet, even the people closest to you might turn around and act like they fully understand your diagnosis after skimming a few pop-psychology articles or watching a couple of sensationalized YouTube videos titled something like, “The Dangers of People with BPD/NPD/ASPD.” It’s infuriating when they then start framing you as selfish, dishonest, or manipulative—especially when, in reality, you’ve been actively keeping the balance in their favor simply because it felt like the right thing to do and you believed they deserved that kindness.

That kind of response can really hurt.

Just look at the other replies here—neurotypicals just aren’t ready for this kind of conversation.

What I see online? I spent the first twenty years of my life as a target of cluster-B abuse, trust me I know firsthand.

My advice to all people in range is drop everything and fucking run. Things are replaceable. Jobs and friends are replaceable. Your wellbeing isn’t.

It sucks, you didn’t choose it, it’s not fair - I totally get that, believe me. I have ADHD, it’s a bitch, and it can suck for the people around me.

But the thing is, the fact that it’s not your fault doesn’t make you safe to be around. People can be a danger to others completely involuntarily, despite their greatest wish not to be. And yes, that’s completely fucking unfair.

NPD and BPD are both driven by a great sucking vortex of need-for-validation that can never be filled, and that tortures people if left unfed. NPD is when the vortex demands power or status, BPD is when it demands extravagant emotional connection, but they’re the same basic model underneath. It’s as vicious and relentless as any drug addiction, it doesn’t go away, and it will eventually overpower any amount of good intent. When the monkey’s on their back, all bets are off and the nearest available victim will be preyed upon.

I don’t think there’s a safe way to be in a relationship with that - though I suppose with extremely open communication and amazingly well-defined and enforced boundaries, it could be doable. But this is very much a case of informed consent - it would be supremely shitty not to let your partner know the deal.

I think I would feel like saying. What is NPD?

Exactly how I feel about being aspd (sociopathic)

I would judge them heavily in my head and pay very close attention to them to be aware of any attempts at manipulation or anything of the sort.

I understand it’s a complex diagnosis and has many facets that aren’t inherently negative but ignoring the large parts that are inherently negative would be putting yourself in jeopardy.

But as someone with a diagnosis with the same level of negative connotation I’d be more understanding but still wary.

Not every narcissist is a monster just like not every sociopath is a monster despite the general opinion on the matter.

What’s a NPD???

Why the ever-loving eff would you talk about this during a job interview?

Is this a recent diagnosis? You need to slow way down and educate yourself on the condition and your employment rights. And I don’t mean by asking people on internet forums. Get real resources recommended by the doctor who gave you the diagnosis.

Cluster B personality disorders tend to be the sort of personality disorders that are obvious to those around you. (To anyone who has done any serious study on the topic of personality disorders, it’s likely those around you (at least the ones you’ve interacted at all sufficiently with) already know you have NPD. To those around you who haven’t, I’m sure they’ve still identified aspects of your behavior that are much different from how most people behave, and stumbling across the Wikipedia page for NPD is likely to bring you to mind.)

I do say “tend to” on purpose. There is such a thing as a “covert presentation” of NPD that can be less obvious.

I’ve done enough study on the topic that I know a bit about what the term “Narcissistic Personality Disorder” means. If someone I knew mentioned to me that they had an NPD diagnosis, I think just how that would affect my view of them would depend on a few things:

I think if I hadn’t known them very long and there wasn’t any particular reason for them to bring it up, I’d likely see bringing up their NPD diagnosis as an attention-seeking behavior. (This would be true no matter what the diagnosis was. If someone I didn’t know well just lead with “I have histrionic PD” or “I’m autistic” without a specific good reason to be bringing it up (and I’m not saying that there aren’t cases where leading with a psychological diagnosis is appropriate), I’d similarly feel they were seeking attention. Of course with NPD, “attention seeking” is even one of the diagnostic criteria, and so there is a certain difference with seeking attention by airing your NPD diagnosis vs airing your schizoid PD (or whatever) diagnosis.) If I’m honest, OP, just interacting with you a couple of times on Lemmy, this is kindof the way I view you. That said, I don’t see your behavior on Lemmy as “bad” in any particular way. You’re getting some of your needs filled and also contributing to the community here by starting what I see as interesting and engaging conversations. But I do think a big part of why you’re writing so much about NPD is to get validation from strangers on the internet.

If I had known them for a while and had already seen them exhibit a lot of narcissistic behavior, it would probably be a bit of a relief to hear them say they had an NPD diagnosis. I’d see them as more self-aware than I did before and that would increase my respect for them. I’d probably suspect their awareness of their condition means they may have a genuine interest in managing it and they may be in treatment. I’d suspect they probably knew a bit about the terminology. And if their behavior became unacceptable and I needed to ask them to tone it down, I might be able to break through their defenses to get them to actually listen to me by speaking to them about their behavior in terms more closely associated with PD theory. I’d also feel a bit honored to have been confided in.

If I had known them for a while but the fact they had an NPD diagnosis took me by surprise, it would definitely make me reevaluate my view of NPD a bit. As I said above, covert NPD does exist but I’d be surprised I didn’t pick up on it myself even their presentation was covert.

Did you recognize that you’re making it all about yourself?

Truth?

By the time someone got diagnosed with it, I would already be sick of the behavior, amd they wouldn’t be a part of my life. I’ve had to do it before

That being said, if the people in your life haven’t noticed it enough to be sick of you, telling them your diagnosis is pointless. Work on yourself via therapy, and it’s all good.

It’s also not something you need to mention in job interviews since there’s no accommodations needed.

But that half-joke I started with? It’s only half a joke. If you go around telling everyone, you’re kinda doing it. Your diagnosis is something you work on in therapy and would only bring up if needed. It isn’t something that’s useful to anyone else. Now, if you’ve been having trouble in your social interactions, and a specific person is having difficulty dealing with you, saying that you’re aware of a problem and are working on it is a useful thing to them and you.

In other words it isn’t something to be ashamed of and hide, it just isn’t something to broadcast without a reason.

The issue is behavior (which is the primary way most of that is diagnosed to begin with).

Acknowledging the behavior and making a deliberate attempt to prevent/improve it is something I would see as a positive sign compared to the behavior without the same steps. Getting a diagnosis (and some type of therapy) is a good thing.

If you consistently treat me badly, the label wouldn’t be why I left. If you make mistakes, but make the regular effort to be aware of them and improve, the label doesn’t matter either.

In my experience, I’ve known long before they did.

I know and have some friends who are diagnosed with NPD. It doesn’t affect how I treat them. A diagnosis is just a piece of paper at the end of the day, and there’s no reason to treat someone differently based on whether or not they have a particular sheet of paper. I act according to people’s behaviour.

If someone seemed to have insight into the disorder it’s one thing. The trouble is a lot of cluster B in general don’t. My mother has BPD and has a violent lack of insight into her problems, and some of my patients too. They are vicious miserable manipulative people who only exist to seek negative attention from others. But people who do have insight seem to do ok.

… other than a few people at job interviews.

this hurt me a lot in the past so i learned not to share things like diagnosis until after the interviews.