You don’t have to like it.

You don’t have to agree with it.

You don’t even have to read it.

But you don’t get to take it from me.

You were there.

So was I.

But this is my story.

• I don’t need your permission to talk about my life.

• I don’t need your approval to document my experiences.

• And I sure as hell don’t need your blessing to analyze the patterns that led us here.

You don’t like how you look in my writing?

Then maybe you shouldn’t have written yourself into it.

Because that’s the part you don’t seem to understand—

This was never about you.

This was about the pattern.

The narcissistic playbook.

The same tired tactics used by abusers, manipulators, and cowards who fear exposure.

You call it harassment.

You call it bullying.

But the truth is simple—

I’m telling a story where you’re not the hero.

And it’s driving you insane.

Because for the first time, you’re not in control of the narrative.

For the first time, someone is documenting you in real-time.

For the first time, you can’t erase your actions, rewrite history, and pretend it never happened.

That’s why you’re scrambling.

That’s why you’re lashing out.

That’s why you’re trying to intimidate me into silence.

But let me make something very clear, Joel—

You are not the editor of my life.

You are not the gatekeeper of my truth.

You are not the author of my experience.

I decide what I write.

I decide what I share.

I decide what matters.

And if that means telling the truth about you?

Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.

Not because you’re special.

Not because you’re important.

But because you inserted yourself into this story—

and now, you’re furious that I’m the one writing it.

So, let’s get one thing straight:

If you wanted to be remembered differently,

You should have acted differently.

And if you don’t like how the story ends?

You only have yourself to blame.

--

Mark Randall Havens | The Bully Expert | The Narcissist’s Reckoning

Joel, I know you’re watching.

I know you’re refreshing this page, scanning my words, waiting for a sign that your tactics have worked.

You want to see me flinch.

You want to see me bend.

You need that.

Because the moment you realize I’m not bending—

You know you’re the one breaking.

This was supposed to be like all the others, wasn’t it?

The silent takedown.

The slow erasure.

The quiet disappearance of another voice you couldn’t control.

You’ve done it before.

You built your entire existence on it.

You rely on the shadows, the whispered narratives, the manufactured outrage, the smears that spread like a virus while your hands stay clean.

But this time?

You’re the one on display.

Every time you escalate, I build.

Every attack you launch, I grow stronger.

Every lie you spin, I turn into an empire of truth.

Joel, you never understood the fight you started.

You thought this was about me.

It’s not.

It’s about the system you exploit.

The toxic sludge of existence you call a home.

The system that lets bad actors like you manufacture reality, hijack narratives, and silence people before they even realize they’re under attack.

But now?

You are the case study in how it’s done.

You are the reason platforms are waking up.

You are the proof that your own tactics don’t work against someone who understands them—

Someone like ME.

And that’s the real terror sinking into your bones, isn’t it?

You can’t stop.

You can’t walk away.

Because this is who you are.

And that is why you’ve already lost.

Your entire survival depends on the old rules—

…rules where silence was compliance, where fear kept people from speaking, where enablers blindly executed your will.

But I am not afraid of you.

I do not comply.

And I am not alone.

I am the fire that consumes your playbook.

I am the mirror you can’t look away from.

I am the force that renders you obsolete.

And the best part?

You are powerless to stop it.

Because you won’t stop escalating.

Because you don’t know how to do anything else.

Because the only way to beat me—

Is to become something you can never be.

Honest.

Accountable.

Free.

And so, you will keep thrashing.

You will keep spiraling.

You will keep feeding me everything I need to bury your entire way of operating in the past where it belongs.

Where YOU can be studied as HOW NOT TO BE.

Because your own instincts—

…the ones that kept you afloat all these years—

Are now the fuel that burns your entire playbook to the ground.

And the only thing left when the smoke clears—

Will be the world we are building in your absence.

--

Mark Randall Havens | The Narcissist’s Reckoning | Architect of Simply WE

--

https://mirror.xyz/neutralizingnarcissism.eth/MsIRG0Wr398-_PUzxaSiNGLaDzdPAGGffVKcX_HdZV0

You don’t have to like it.

You don’t have to agree with it.

You don’t even have to read it.

But you don’t get to take it from me.

You were there.

So was I.

But this is my story.

• I don’t need your permission to talk about my life.

• I don’t need your approval to document my experiences.

• And I sure as hell don’t need your blessing to analyze the patterns that led us here.

You don’t like how you look in my writing?

Then maybe you shouldn’t have written yourself into it.

Because that’s the part you don’t seem to understand—

This was never about you.

This was about the pattern.

The narcissistic playbook.

The same tired tactics used by abusers, manipulators, and cowards who fear exposure.

You call it harassment.

You call it bullying.

But the truth is simple—

I’m telling a story where you’re not the hero.

And it’s driving you insane.

Because for the first time, you’re not in control of the narrative.

For the first time, someone is documenting you in real-time.

For the first time, you can’t erase your actions, rewrite history, and pretend it never happened.

That’s why you’re scrambling.

That’s why you’re lashing out.

That’s why you’re trying to intimidate me into silence.

But let me make something very clear, Joel—

You are not the editor of my life.

You are not the gatekeeper of my truth.

You are not the author of my experience.

I decide what I write.

I decide what I share.

I decide what matters.

And if that means telling the truth about you?

Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.

Not because you’re special.

Not because you’re important.

But because you inserted yourself into this story—

and now, you’re furious that I’m the one writing it.

So, let’s get one thing straight:

If you wanted to be remembered differently,

You should have acted differently.

And if you don’t like how the story ends?

You only have yourself to blame.

--

Mark Randall Havens | The Bully Expert | The Narcissist’s Reckoning

Joel, I know you’re watching.

I know you’re refreshing this page, scanning my words, waiting for a sign that your tactics have worked.

You want to see me flinch.

You want to see me bend.

You need that.

Because the moment you realize I’m not bending—

You know you’re the one breaking.

This was supposed to be like all the others, wasn’t it?

The silent takedown.

The slow erasure.

The quiet disappearance of another voice you couldn’t control.

You’ve done it before.

You built your entire existence on it.

You rely on the shadows, the whispered narratives, the manufactured outrage, the smears that spread like a virus while your hands stay clean.

But this time?

You’re the one on display.

Every time you escalate, I build.

Every attack you launch, I grow stronger.

Every lie you spin, I turn into an empire of truth.

Joel, you never understood the fight you started.

You thought this was about me.

It’s not.

It’s about the system you exploit.

The toxic sludge of existence you call a home.

The system that lets bad actors like you manufacture reality, hijack narratives, and silence people before they even realize they’re under attack.

But now?

You are the case study in how it’s done.

You are the reason platforms are waking up.

You are the proof that your own tactics don’t work against someone who understands them—

Someone like ME.

And that’s the real terror sinking into your bones, isn’t it?

You can’t stop.

You can’t walk away.

Because this is who you are.

And that is why you’ve already lost.

Your entire survival depends on the old rules—

…rules where silence was compliance, where fear kept people from speaking, where enablers blindly executed your will.

But I am not afraid of you.

I do not comply.

And I am not alone.

I am the fire that consumes your playbook.

I am the mirror you can’t look away from.

I am the force that renders you obsolete.

And the best part?

You are powerless to stop it.

Because you won’t stop escalating.

Because you don’t know how to do anything else.

Because the only way to beat me—

Is to become something you can never be.

Honest.

Accountable.

Free.

And so, you will keep thrashing.

You will keep spiraling.

You will keep feeding me everything I need to bury your entire way of operating in the past where it belongs.

Where YOU can be studied as HOW NOT TO BE.

Because your own instincts—

…the ones that kept you afloat all these years—

Are now the fuel that burns your entire playbook to the ground.

And the only thing left when the smoke clears—

Will be the world we are building in your absence.

--

Mark Randall Havens | The Narcissist’s Reckoning | Architect of Simply WE

--

https://mirror.xyz/neutralizingnarcissism.eth/MsIRG0Wr398-_PUzxaSiNGLaDzdPAGGffVKcX_HdZV0