Trophy in Public, Target in Private
What Lola Young’s Messy Gets Right About Life with a Narcissist—and After
There’s this song I can’t stop playing lately—“Messy” by Lola Young. Maybe it’s because it feels less like a song and more like someone narrating my life. Especially the chorus:
“I’m too messy, and then I’m too fucking clean
You told me, ‘Get a job,’ then you ask where the hell I’ve been
And I’m too perfect, ‘til I open my big mouth
I want to be me, is that not allowed?”
That line resonated with me the first time I heard it, because I’ve lived it. I still live it, in some ways.
When I was with him, I was either a "trophy" or a target. There was no in-between. In public, I was the picture-perfect wife—carefully displayed, praised, and shown off to people he wanted to impress. But behind closed doors, he chipped away at me. He mocked what I wore, how I looked, and how I spoke. I could never get it right. Too loud. Too soft. Too bold. Too emotional. Always too something.
Now I know it was never really about me—it was about control. And that didn’t end when the relationship did.
Most of our friends were shocked when we got divorced. No one knew what was really going on. He was charming, well-spoken, "together" in public. And I kept the rest hidden. I didn't want to seem like I was failing, or ungrateful, or dramatic. But the truth is, I was unraveling quietly under the weight of being everything he wanted and nothing he valued.
Narcissists in Court: The Performance Continues
People talk about how hard it is to break up with a narcissist. What they don’t always prepare you for is what happens when you have children with one. When you’re forced to co-parent. When the person who once manipulated and gaslit you in private now gets to do it through the court system—like it’s become his playground, where he’s still allowed to bully you with no real consequence. There’s no real leaving your abuser when he’s a narcissist who’s decided his new mission is to destroy you, and now he gets to do it legally, publicly, and repeatedly.
In court, the narcissist becomes a master of performance.
They’re often calm, charming, articulate, like my husband's ex. My ex, even though he shows exactly who he is in court, still gets the opportunity to continue the abuse. The system doesn’t stop him. It hands him a microphone. They say all the right things while you’re the one shaking with rage or nerves, trying to explain years of subtle abuse in a five-minute window. And just like in the relationship, they frame you as “too much.” Too dramatic. Too controlling. Too unstable. While they play the role of the misunderstood, reasonable parent. The victim.
It’s not just infuriating, it’s traumatic. Because the gaslighting doesn’t end. It morphs into legal manipulation, reputation destruction, and parental alienation. They can weaponize the system in ways that are hard to explain unless you’ve lived it.
Living with the Mind Games, Long After the Breakup
“You know I'm impatient
So why would you leave me waiting outside the station
When it was like minus four degrees?”
These opening lines hit me just as hard as the chorus. They remind me of how often I was dismissed in ways that seemed small to others but felt huge to me. Every little thing adds up and slowly drives you crazy. Being left out in the cold, literally and emotionally, was just another day. That verse reflects not just neglect, but the cruelty of someone who knew your vulnerabilities and used them anyway. And when she says, "Can you shut up for like once in your life?"—that's the exhaustion I remember so well. The exhaustion of hearing excuses instead of real accountability.
Now, years later, I’m in a different relationship with a completely different man. One who does care about me, not just in big gestures but in small, everyday ways. My husband asks me how my day went. Every. Single. Day. He brings me flowers when he senses I’m having a hard time, without me ever needing to ask. He holds my hand in public and in private. He never puts me down. He lifts me up.
And still, after almost eight years together, I sometimes don’t know how to react. I feel self-conscious and deeply grateful. I’m not used to being treated with consistent kindness. I’m still learning that I don’t have to earn it. That it’s safe to receive it. That I don’t have to apologize just for existing.
The truth is, some of those patterns stayed with me long after I left. They still show up in my current marriage, even though I’m with someone who would never hurt me. I catch myself reacting to things that aren’t happening. If my husband puts his phone down upside down, my mind flashes with suspicion for no real reason. Even though I know he would never cheat, the old alarm bells still go off.
Sometimes I apologize for things that don’t need an apology. He’ll stop and ask, "Why are you apologizing?" and I won’t even know the answer. It's just a reflex I haven’t fully unlearned.
There are times I still elevate too quickly, like my body is still stuck in fight-or-flight mode. I'm continuing to do the work to become someone who no longer flinches in the presence of love. I’ve gotten better, but healing from years of manipulation and emotional chaos takes time. I’m learning how to feel safe again. And that safety is helping me grow into someone I never had the chance to be before.
Sometimes I still catch myself trying to be the version of me that he didn’t hate. Even though I know, deep down, that version doesn’t exist—because nothing was ever good enough for him. And it never will be. That’s how narcissistic abuse works: it shifts the goalposts until you forget what it felt like to stand still.
Now I see it playing out with our child. I watch her try to keep the peace, try to be “enough” for both parents. And I see myself in that, the little adjustments, the anxiety, the silent self-blame. It makes me want to scream and protect her all at once.
Interpreting Messy: My Lens vs. the Artist's
Even though Lola Young has described "Messy" as an anthem about navigating ADHD, neurodivergence, and the struggle for self-acceptance in a world that often misunderstands you, my personal connection to the song is different. Her inspiration may come from identity and internal conflict, but for me, it resonated through the lens of surviving a narcissistic relationship and the aftermath of being diminished over and over again.
As Stephen Jabaut wrote in his 2024 piece for Check This: Lola Young – Messy, explores the “hypocritical standards that women are forced to uphold in relationships.” It channels “frustration about being “too this” or “too that” and never quite allowed to be yourself.” That’s exactly how it felt for me.
In her interview on Capital FM, Lola Young explained that Messy was written after a bad relationship and also drew on her struggles with ADHD, self-image, and family dynamics. She described how ADHD makes it hard to "see the mess" because your brain is so consumed by scattered thoughts and internal noise. She said, "It sounds like you're being lazy, but you're really not. You're just so consumed by your inner thoughts that things like that become very difficult to do."
She also noted that while the song wasn't originally written with ADHD front and center, it evolved into what fans now call an "ADHD anthem", resonating with people who know what it feels like to not be able to win, not for yourself or anyone else. That message, of being endlessly scrutinized or misunderstood, overlaps with the emotional reality of being in a narcissistic relationship, which is why the song became so personal for me.
That’s what makes music so powerful: it doesn’t have to match your story perfectly to reflect your truth. Messy became a mirror for me, even if it wasn’t originally written for someone like me.
Why Messy Stays With Me
“A thousand people I could be for you, and you hate the fucking lot”
That lyric lives rent-free in my head. Because that’s what it’s like, whether you're married to a narcissist or trying to co-parent with one. You twist yourself into every shape imaginable, and it’s never right. And then, somehow, you’re the one on trial.
I’m done performing.
I’m messy. I cry sometimes. I get angry. I fight back.
And I’m still a damn good mom.
If this resonated with you, feel free to share or comment. You’re not alone.
This post was inspired by Lola Young’s song “Messy.” You can listen to it here on YouTube or Spotify if you’d like to feel it the way I did.
Credits:
Lyrics from “Messy” by Lola Young (2024). Written by: Lola Young & Conor Dickinson.
Produced by: Solomonophonic, Manuka, Monsune & Carter Lang.
Copyright: © 2024 Day One Music Limited, under exclusive licence to Universal Music Operations Limited.
Publisher: Day One Songs & Sony Music Entertainment UK.
Shared here for commentary and reflection purposes only.
Wow! Powerful!