Don't Make Friends with the Monster

In my historical/supernatural novel, The Dark Fire, my main character Anne Drake makes friends with the Baron von Klausenberg. The baron is charming and charismatic, surrounded by interesting people from high society. But he is evil. His motto is: “Cruelty is another word for strength.” People have asked me how it is that Anne can make friends with such a man. I’ve had readers get emotional when expressing their frustration with Anne. How could she have not seen the red flags? Is she an idiot? Why is she surprised when he turns out to be a monster towards those he claims to love? The Dark Fire can be read as a cautionary tale that explores what happens when a person decides to make friends with the monster.

There are two explanations for Anne’s behavior. The first is that people ignore the red flags, either because they don’t recognize that there are red flags, or because they are willfully blind to them. The second explanation is that people see the red flags, but they think they can tame the monster anyway. This can be rational strategy, because it often works in the short run. The problem is, in the long run, it doesn’t work. I explore this dynamic in detail in my novel (which you can find here, here, and here), and I am going to explore this dynamic in this essay.

What do I mean by “making friends with the monster”? I mean cozying up, trying to befriend, become intimate with, or trying to “tame” someone with a serious personality disorder, including those people who are straight-up evil. This is a person who has hurt and betrayed others in the past without remorse, and who will hurt or betray the next person if he or she feels justified. For them, there is no right or wrong, there is just useful or not-useful in the service of getting what s/he wants. Monsters often state their intentions outright, and it would be wise to take them at their word.

Quick caveat: I realize that everyone has a dark aspect to their personality. Reducing a person to this darkest aspect—the monster part—misses the totality and complexity of that person, but I’m doing this for the sake of clarity. Also, in extreme cases, there is a crossover-point at which a person’s dark side defines them, and they actually do become a monster rather than just having a monstrous side. Where this crossover-point happens is something that I’ll leave for another discussion.

Many people are not sure that they can tell the difference between monsters and non-monsters. A good place to start is Bill Eddy’s book 5 Types of People Who Can Ruin Your Life: Identifying and Dealing with Narcissists, Sociopaths, and Other High-Conflict Personalities. One of Bill Eddy’s techniques is to ask: Would 90% of the people you know do what this person has done? If the answer is no, then you are dealing with an exceptional person (in the bad sense). Another book is by Lundy Bancroft Why Does He Do That? which explains what abuse between spouses/partners looks like and what to do about it.

Just to be clear, nothing in this essay should be construed as advice for the reader. This essay is an exploration of a fascinating topic, which is a central theme of my novel, The Dark Fire.

I’m going to tell you a story, set in a modern business setting, to illustrate what I mean about trying to make friends with the monster. I have a friend (we’ll call her Mia) who is astute when it comes to seeing red-flags in peoples’ behavior. Although Mia is not a psychologist, she has read a lot about personality disorders (including the two books I’ve mentioned) in order to better understand some of the people in her life.

A few years ago, she was running a business. She met a fellow-professional named Paula who was smart, capable, and charming. The two became friends. They collaborated on projects. Mia could see that Paula had some serious red flags. One was that Paula was overly dramatic and controlling. She would micro-manage and blame others when things went wrong, and wouldn’t give credit where credit was due. Paula needed to be right all the time. Mia figured that because she could see Paula’s red flags, she could navigate them and not get hurt. Besides, Paula was interesting and entertaining, they had common interests, and they had some fun outings together.

It was a challenge to stay on Paula’s good side—a challenge which Mia enjoyed. Even when Paula got snippy, Mia let it roll and didn’t take it personally.

Mia was flattered and self-satisfied when her co-workers would say: “How can you stand Paula? She’s so high-maintenance.” Mia would laugh and say: “I know how to handle her.” It felt like a super-power, and Mia was proud that she was able to “tame” someone like Paula.

The day came when everything changed. Mia didn’t see it coming. Mia was hosting a client seminar. Weeks before, Mia had asked Paula whether she wanted to make a presentation at the seminar. Paula had declined, saying that she didn’t have anything in mind, and besides, she was too busy with another project. So Mia found someone else to do the presentation, a competent co-worker named Nancy, who did a good job. As soon as Nancy’s presentation finished, Paula marched over to Mia in the crowded room during a break. She was fuming. She chastised Mia for not having made it clear that Nancy was going to make a presentation in her place. She accused Mia of making her look bad, of insulting her publicly. She was enraged that Mia “showed her up” by hiring Nancy.

Mia was taken by surprise. She explained what had actually happened, and fought to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. But Paula wasn’t listening. Mia felt ambushed, which meant she didn’t respond as effectively as she could have. Seeing Mia off-balance like that gave Paula an air of satisfaction. She abruptly turned and walked away while Mia was still trying to explain herself, which was incredibly rude, demeaning and hurtful to Mia.

Several of Mia’s co-workers saw what had happened. One said to Mia: “I can’t believe Paula just treated you like that. It’s inexcusable.”

Let’s recap. When things were going well, Mia was proud of herself for “taming” the unruly Paula, and for making friends with her. But this pride was her downfall, because Paula turned on her. Mia’s ability to make friends with the monster was an adaptation from when she was a child. In her youth, she had learned to make friends with the monster (i.e., a dysfunctional family member) in order to survive. But as an adult, this was no longer necessary, and was in fact, counter-productive in the long-term.

Mia and I had a conversation in which we discussed the fact that childhood adaptations often don’t work as well in adulthood. The costs outweigh the benefits. Some of us have had to learn it the hard way. We’ve had to see time and time again that befriending the monster is temporary. It’ll get us through an immediate crisis, and the good times may even last a relatively long time, but they never last forever. No matter how hard we work and sacrifice ourselves, we are never going to have the healthy relationship with that person that we crave. The monster will turn on us, no matter how good the good times are.

Going no-contact was tempting for Mia, because she wanted to punish Paula. But no-contact was not an option—after all, Mia saw Paula at work regularly, and she didn’t want to make the workplace atmosphere tense. Mia realized that there is a wide middle-ground between (on the one hand) trying to win the monster over by putting in all kinds of time in pursuit of an ideal relationship that just isn’t going to happen, and (on the other hand) going no-contact.

The middle ground is this: Mia can determine whether she can have some sort of a positive relationship (or at least a not-negative relationship) with Paula, even if it is superficial, and then protect herself with rational boundaries. Mia doesn’t need to be rude, she doesn’t need to be confrontational. She needs to be deliberate and firm (which is easier said than done). And sometimes, yes, going no-contact is the best course of action. But whether one should go no-contact depends on a lot of factors which are beyond the scope of this essay.

It’s my personal opinion that if you are dealing with someone you will encounter in a work, friends, or family circle, find a way to have positive (or at least not-negative) interactions with them in ways where your boundaries remain intact. In social settings, it’s not just about the chemistry between the two people who are in conflict. There are other people around, so making a scene or doing the sulky-silent-treatment makes the environment unpleasant for everyone (as we saw when other co-workers watched Paula blow up at Mia). If the monster decides to make a scene, or sulk, that’s their choice. Mia has control over herself, and she can remain calm and non-confrontational, while holding firm to her boundaries. Guess which one is going to look better in the eyes of the onlookers?

Mia decided that she was still going to have a cordial, professional relationship with Paula, but nowhere near the closeness they’d had before. That meant no more collaborations, no more hanging out as friends. If they ran into each other on the job, Mia was brief, friendly and firm, but unavailable. She would avoid giving Paula a way to blame her or attack her. She would not get lured into a fun situation like old times, because she knew that it would be temporary, and eventually Paula would turn on her again.

Let’s return to my novel, The Dark Fire. If Anne Drake had taken the baron more seriously, and listened to what he was telling her, instead of seeing only what she wanted to see, things would have turned out differently for her. You, dear reader, are not a fictional character, so you can make a change today and write your next chapter according to your own wishes.

To order The Dark Fire go here and here for the ebook, here for softcover.

This essay also appears on my Substack page. Subscribe here.