If someone tells you that they are being abused by a narcissist or a sociopath, and your first reaction is to think that they’re lying because the alleged abuser is such a nice, great person…

Think again.

Superficial charm is one of the top criteria for both disorders.

That’s the insidious nature of these personalities: what the world sees and what happens behind closed doors are two completely different realities. To outsiders, the narcissist or sociopath often appears charismatic, generous, even admirable. They know how to work a room, make people laugh, flatter, and impress. Their ability to mask who they really are is part of their power. It’s what keeps them protected and what makes their victims feel isolated, doubted, and silenced.

For the person enduring the abuse, this charm becomes part of the trap. They know that if they speak up, they risk being dismissed or painted as bitter, vindictive, or unstable. They’ve likely already been told by the abuser that “no one will believe you” — and too often, the world proves that warning true. Friends, family, even professionals can be fooled by the carefully curated image, making the victim feel even more alone.

This is why listening matters. Abuse from narcissists and sociopaths rarely looks the way people expect it to. It isn’t always loud, obvious, or physical. More often, it’s subtle and psychological: gaslighting, manipulation, financial control, silent treatments, love-bombing followed by cruelty. These forms of abuse leave deep scars that don’t always show on the surface — but they are just as real, and just as devastating.

When someone finds the courage to say, *“I’m being abused,”* the last thing they need is skepticism. What they need is safety, compassion, and validation. Believing them doesn’t mean you condemn the alleged abuser without question — it simply means you honor the risk it took for them to speak. It means you understand that appearances can deceive, and that charm is often a mask.

So the next time you’re tempted to say, *“But he seems so nice,”* remember this: predators rely on being seen as “nice.” It’s their camouflage. The truth lives not in the smile they show the world, but in the pain carried quietly by the one who knows them behind closed doors.