Traumatized Splitting and Fragmentation — PART III — Narcissism in The Substance
This post is a follow-up to Part I which introduced the subject of traumatized dissociation, splitting, and fragmentation. You can read that here. Part II discussed self-hatred in the characters from the show Severance. You can read that here. Also, more spoilers than last time.
In this post, I will dive deeper into self-hatred, self-objectification, perfectionism, and narcissism related to fragmentation discussing the characters from Elisabeth/Sue from The Substance.
Most of us have a little narcissism. To understand more about the spectrum of narcissism, read here.
Elisabeth/Sue in The Substance:
We all contain multitudes, but hopefully not like this.
The Grotesque Monsters We Make Through Fragmentation
Elisabeth Sparkle’s journey in The Substance presents a body-focused, metaphor for self-destruction and fragmentation. The film follows Elisabeth Sparkle, a middle-aged actress who is offered a miracle solution: a serum that allows her to split into a younger, more flawless version of herself—Sue. At first, this transformation seems like an ideal escape from the pressures of Hollywood’s brutal beauty standards, but the split between Elisabeth and Sue quickly turns into a horror show of self-annihilation.
Elisabeth/Sue’s desperation to maintain her new identity mirrors the way we push ourselves past our limits to meet impossible standards. Elisabeth/Sue objectifies herself to the point of literal detachment, treating Sue as the only version of herself that deserves love and success. Elisabeth’s original self becomes an inconvenient burden—a version of herself that must be hidden and ultimately destroyed in order for Sue to thrive.
“The false self serves as a protective shield, guarding against the unbearable pain of feeling unworthy and unloved.”
Elisabeth serves the false “ideal” self, resulting in rage and resentment
Who Is Your Sue and What Is She Protecting You From?
Hot Sue protecting you from your fear you are unloveable
Smart, competent Sue protecting you from vulnerability
Tough or condescending Sue protecting you from weakness
Loving, nurturing, caring (read: controlling codependent) Sue protecting you from fear of unworthiness
Friendly, happy Sue protecting you from sadness or anger
All false Sues are likely protecting you from some type of rejection, abandonment, or feelings of unloveableness or unworthiness.
“The narcissistic personality seeks admiration and validation, not out of genuine self-esteem, but as a constant effort to escape the underlying experience of worthlessness.”
Elisabeth/Sue offers a striking metaphor for the narcissistic false self. The false self is built for survival, designed to please and comply with external demands rather than express the true self’s authentic needs. Narcissists often construct a grandiose, socially validated version of themselves while their real emotional and physical needs—rest, pleasure, intrinsic motivation—are ignored or suppressed. The same is true for career success, relationship success, even moral/ethical success—yep directors of non-profits often fit the bill! When one is so afraid they are deficient, they seek to look the best to everyone outside of them and the result is a fractured identity unable to connect to self or others.
“You’re the only part of me I don’t hate.”
Sue’s got no substance, she doesn’t even have a last name! However, as my website may hint at, I strongly approve of the aesthetic.
But the false self isn't just a mask—it comes at a cost. The more someone invests in the idealized version of themselves, the more alienated they become from their true feelings, vulnerabilities, and self-worth outside of external validation. The Substance shows this vividly, as the protagonist's “perfect” double eventually becomes violent, unable to integrate the hidden self's real pain. In a similar way, chasing an idea of perfection can leave people disconnected from their actual bodies/selves, feeling trapped in cycles of shame and self-criticism. True healing requires reuniting with the real self—the one that exists even when no one is watching, the one that deserves care and strength not as performance but as self-connection.
Guess we’re not going on that date…Elisabeth metaphorically seeks to destroy the part of her desiring authentic connection
In The Substance Elisabeth/Sue is completely isolated and disconnected from friends and family. Like many people trapped in a cycle of narcissistic defense, she has no deep emotional connections—only an audience. Her identity is built on being seen, admired, and desired, but never truly known. The one relationship that might offer her genuine connection is sabotaged, just as narcissists often unconsciously destroy intimacy when it threatens the fragile equilibrium of their constructed self. To maintain the illusion of perfection, she must keep others at a distance, ensuring that no one gets close enough to witness the cracks beneath the surface. This reflects what many theorists on narcissists have described—the grandiose self is a fortress, protecting against the unbearable vulnerability of feeling unworthy or unlovable. But that fortress is also a prison.
“When a person’s false self dominates, their body becomes rigid, their emotions suppressed, and their capacity for genuine love impaired.”
Narcissists struggle to form authentic connections because real intimacy requires vulnerability, and vulnerability threatens the entire false self structure. The false self develops as a way to adapt to external expectations, meaning the true self is buried beneath layers of performance, compliance, or grandiosity. When relationships demand honesty, emotional reciprocity, and the ability to tolerate imperfection—core elements of real intimacy—the narcissistic individual often feels exposed and reacts with withdrawal, defensiveness, or sabotage. The result is profound loneliness. Just as The Substance leaves its protagonist trapped in a cycle of self-destruction, unable to merge her idealized self with her real self, narcissists often find themselves emotionally stranded—surrounded by admirers but disconnected from true love and belonging.
The horror of The Substance lies in how Elisabeth initially accepts her own erasure. Elisabeth internalizes the pressures place on her, believing that only the most polished, youthful, and socially acceptable version of herself is worthy of existence. This is the ultimate form of self-fragmentation—one where a person actively conspires in their own disappearance.
The Substance forces us to ask: how much of ourselves are we willing to sacrifice to fit into societal expectations? Whether it’s through work, beauty, or social performance, we are constantly pressured to split ourselves into palatable versions that conform to external demands. But at what cost? And how do we begin to reclaim the parts of ourselves we’ve been taught to discard?
“The one and only thing not to forget: You. Are. One. You can’t escape from yourself.”
The monster at the end of The Substance is the inevitable outcome of denying the real self for too long—it’s the rage, pain, and desperation that can no longer be suppressed. Just as the protagonist’s perfected double eventually turns monstrous, the false self in narcissism can become something destructive, both to the person who created it and to those around them. When a narcissistic individual is forced to confront their own flaws, limitations, or lack of control, the carefully constructed façade can crack, unleashing intense shame, rage, or emotional cruelty. This isn’t just about grandiosity—it’s about the terror of being seen as weak, unworthy, or unlovable. The narcissist's internal suffering, buried under layers of defense, can manifest in ways that harm their relationships, erode trust, and create cycles of emotional devastation. But this monstrous side isn’t just an external threat; it’s also a deep source of self-destruction. Like The Substance’s final horror, the false self ultimately consumes the person who depends on it, leaving them more isolated, more disconnected, and further from the love and acceptance they so desperately need.
