The Mockery of Mimicry


I love to copy. I have to copy. It is all I have known for as long as I can remember. It is my natural setting to mimic those around me. I have to fit in, I have to belong and the most effective way for me to achieve this is to replicate everything that I come into contact with. If I interact with an esteemed academic I will listen to his or her achievements and then pass those off as my own as I peel away their glittering accolades and apply them to myself. Should I spend time with an exceptional sporting individual then their record-breaking endeavours will be purloined for my benefit and sported as my own in furtherance of my own belief in my exceptional ability. Author? Yes I have written books too. Model? Yes I do some modelling from time to time. Chef? You should try my signature dish, it is heavenly. Everyone I have dealings with presents me with an opportunity to copy an element of their personality. character or personae so that I may then present it as my own and in so doing I shine brighter and become an even more attractive prospect to those whose lives I effortlessly infiltrate.

This skill at mimicry enables me to ghost in and out of people’s lives. I know the social norms which are applicable and through careful examination and application I am able to pass as one just like you. I am a facsimile of a decent, personable and engaging individual and this allows me access to my targets without raising any alarms. My veneer of respectability has been fashioned from all those that I engage with, gathering patches, fragments, shards and pieces until they are hewn together and I drape it about me allowing me to come and go as I please.

It is however with you that I exhibit the astonishing mimicry of which I am a master. Once I have selected you as my target I have learned much about you already. With what will eventually be recognised as alarming ease, I replicate a fondness for all those things which you like and a distaste for all those things that you dislike. Think back and you will readily recall how I love horse-riding just as you did, that I enjoyed swimming in open water just like you and my passion for the works of Geoffrey Chaucer matched yours. Those interests which were close to you became interests that were close to me. Your appreciation of an excellent bottle of Chateau Margaux was matched by my ability to remember the applicable tasting notes and recite them to you as if it was my own appreciation. I would mimic the way you sat, copying your body language because I know, from extensive practice that this paves the way to bonding with you. I would mimic your speech patterns to form a sub-conscious link between us. I liked blue because you liked blue. I found listening to soul music an offence to my ears but I maintained a false enjoyment of it since you liked it so much. I actually enjoy choosing from the Crustacea bar but your dislike of seafood meant that I too turned lobster and oysters away. How often did you remark aloud, to me or to your friends,

“We have so much in common.”

“We like so many of the same things it is wonderful.”

“We share so many interests, I love it.”

“We are so well matched. On every level. We really are soulmates.”

Of course we are. I made it so because I wanted to be everything you wanted. I took your  long list of likes and dislikes, your catalogue of loves and hates and your grimoire of hopes and fears and I copied each and every page. I am a walking photocopier and I copied everything you wanted in order to ensure that my seduction of you was successful, encompassing and absolute.

Yet, my astonishing powers of mimicry did not end there. Goodness me no, there was more yet to come. In a particularly unpleasant twist to this malevolent skill of mine I would mimic your responses to my devaluation of you but this time it would not be a complete facsimile, I would make a slight change to my copying so that you would be undermined even further.

When you stood there crying with frustration and I drank deep of the delicious fuel you provided me, I would raise my hands to my eyes and draw pretend tears on my cheeks and make a sobbing noise to humiliate you further. Here I was letting you know that I copied everything that went before yet now I copy again but not with the perfection I once exhibited. I allow the sting of sarcasm and the malicious mockery to infiltrate my copying of your behaviour so that your hurt and bewilderment was increased. You would shout at me and I would shout back using the exact words before standing and laughing at you as you burned with frustration, unable to find any response. You might stamp your feet in exasperation and I would do the same but with a leer of disdain writ large across my face.

There were times when you would scream. A terrified scream as my vicious manipulations would take their toll and as you tried to curl into a ball and hope you might just disappear and escape this nightmare, I would lean in close to you and mimic your scream into your ear, creating this fabricated falsetto of distress in order to further your own. Every reaction to my devaluation of you had the potential to be met by a mimicked reply from me in order to further your misery and demonstrate I did not treat your responses with any sincerity or concern.

I am the master of mimicry, the king of copying and the duke of duplication. I am a walking and talking photocopier machine. I put the rank in Rank Xerox.

13 thoughts on “The Mockery of Mimicry

  1. ajo says:

    Weirdly enough, the ex narc didn’t mimic my likes and dislikes in the beginning like one would think. He actually seemed quite annoyed that I didn’t share his interests like the IPPS before me who dumped him. I had to tell him that we didn’t have to like all the same things. These things were his vein..identity stuff… Art, running, cycling, reading the New Yorker. I appreciated these things, but honestly didn’t have time for a lot of hobbies at the time I met him. And of course being with him, he sucked up all my time. I have far more interests and hobbies now that he is out of my life. Funny how that happens.
    However, where he did mimic me was later on in the relationship. He mimicked my adherence to truth and vulnerability. He adopted my sense of humor. He feigned authenticity and my morals and values. He often changed his appearance according to my likes, but never let on that it was for me. I see more now that I am gone that he kept some of what he took from me. I also now see what he got from his ex wife, affairs and girlfriends since I know them now. There isn’t really much of anything that belongs to him.

  2. narc affair says:

    I was surprised by the mimicking of body posture creating a bond. Not heard that before. I swear narcs research these tactics to further themselves…
    The last half of this id not put up with for one second. If i was devalued that way with someone mimicing me when im upset their ass would be out the door. Yet ive put up with a lot of covert abuse and still to this day second guess myself. Covert is the most dangerous imo bc it has the greatest degree of gaslighting involved. I wish my narc wouldve openly devalued me he wouldve been longgggg gonnnee.

  3. Jenna says:

    “I would lean in close to you and mimic your scream into your ear, creating this fabricated falsetto of distress in order to further your own.”

    I will never forget this. The first time i read it, i thought omg this man hg tudor is more evil than i ever thought. It is unimaginable that anybody can do this. It frightened me and saddened me so much.

  4. gabbanzobean says:

    Oh good God the mimicking….
    He used to finish my sentences, repeat the phrases I used to use. I even told him a funny quote my coworker said to me in response to something I said and he began interspersing it into our conversations later on.

    I wonder if he still uses fragments of this crap with the new people he is likely now focused on.

    I recall once I told him a story of how I was in a meeting at work and my opinion was asked on a topic and I opened my mouth to speak and a big burp randomly came flying out. He laughed for a good 10 minutes at that story while staring intently at me. He said “Damn, I wish I was there to witness that moment….” …. I bet he stole that story and made it his own now.

    And here I sit alone amidst a silent treatment now. What I wouldn’t give for one of those back and forths even though it was not real.

  5. Diva says:

    The more I read, the more I realise that I am not a narc…….for example…..I could never pretend to like Depeche Mode…….even if my life depended on it………..Diva

    1. HG Tudor says:

      I think you would try. Gunpoint is very persuasive.

      1. Diva says:

        Russian roulette????……..that also appeals to my “gambling” addiction!!!!………Diva

        1. HG Tudor says:

          The chamber is occupied.

          1. Diva says:

            I bet every chamber would be occupied if you were playing Russian roulette and you would not be the one going first………Diva

          2. HG Tudor says:

            I only ever gamble with other people’s lives.

  6. K says:

    It is articles like this one that make me want to strap all my narcissists to a truck load of TNT and detonate it. KABOOM! Narc body parts raining down everywhere! What utter joy that would be.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Now that’s just messy, K.

      1. K says:

        I was thinking the same thing…I am working on a plan B.

Vent Your Spleen! (Please see the Rules in Formal Info)

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Previous article

The Classroom Narcissist