I hear somebody talking about narcissists and the explanation is quick: they love themselves too much. It bothers me. Not because harmful behaviour should be excused, but because a complicated subject has become a word we throw at people.
In the video, I reach for Narcissus. I retell the story of a beautiful young man absorbed by his own reflection, then return to an ordinary question: how do I care about myself without losing the ability to care about somebody else?
The story I remembered, and the text
My spoken retelling includes a leaf disturbing the water and a version in which he falls in. That should not be mistaken for a faithful account of Ovid’s Metamorphoses.
In Ovid’s Book III, Narcissus becomes consumed by his reflected image, eventually recognises himself and wastes away. His tears disturb the reflection; after his death, a flower is found where his body should be.[1] The leaf-and-drowning detail in my clip is not the ending in that text.
The correction leaves the image powerful: a person is so fixed on what looks back at him that he cannot move towards a relationship outside it. That is a way I read the story, not a psychological test.
Self-respect is not a diagnosis
The American Psychiatric Association distinguishes narcissistic traits from narcissistic personality disorder. Clinical concern involves a persistent, inflexible pattern with significant distress or impaired functioning—not merely liking yourself or having a confident day.[2]
That distinction matters when we talk about somebody we know. I can describe an action—interrupting, dismissing another person’s needs, refusing responsibility—without announcing that I have diagnosed their entire personality. If a relationship is harmful, naming the behaviour and setting a boundary do not require an amateur diagnosis.
The video’s point about balance is an ethical reflection. I want to be able to value my own life and also make room for a person whose needs do not flatter my self-image. That does not mean putting myself last every time. Disappearing for other people is not the goal either.
Turn the question back towards yourself
Can I hear a correction without immediately defending my image? Can I let another person finish? Can I apologise for an action without turning the conversation into a demand that they reassure me?
Those are questions I can actually work with. They connect with my reflection on self-forgiveness and responsibility: understanding myself should make me more accountable, not less.
Before I turn the story into somebody else’s label, I can look at what I am doing with my own reflection.
Sources and calculation notes
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[1] Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book III, lines 339–510, translated by A. S. Kline. The paragraph above paraphrases the text; the clip gives a looser retelling.
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[2] American Psychiatric Association: narcissistic personality disorder. No person is diagnosed here; self-reflection questions are editorial, not screening criteria.
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Original video and thumbnail: Eduard Luta on TikTok. Published 2026-05-21. Research checked 27 September 2026.