Flying Monkeys in Narcissistic Relationships

One of the most confusing parts of dealing with narcissistic behaviour is discovering that the conflict does not always remain between the two people actually involved in the relationship. What you may initially believe is a private disagreement, separation or breakdown between you and another person can gradually begin spreading outwards, drawing in relatives, friends, colleagues and mutual acquaintances. Suddenly, a family member starts asking unusually specific questions. A mutual friend begins passing messages backwards and forwards. Somebody knows private details about an argument or situation that you never discussed with them. Another person insists they are “only trying to help” while repeatedly telling you what the other person has supposedly said about you and then reporting your reaction straight back to them. Before long, what should have remained between two adults has developed into a network of people discussing, interpreting and sometimes interfering in a relationship they were never actually part of.

In discussions surrounding narcissistic relationships, these third parties are commonly referred to as “flying monkeys.” The expression comes from The Wizard of Oz, where the Wicked Witch sends her flying monkeys to carry out her instructions. Within modern discussions of narcissistic and dysfunctional relationships, the term has become shorthand for people who become involved in somebody else’s manipulation, conflict, information gathering or smear campaign. They can act as messengers, spies, defenders, intermediaries or unofficial public-relations representatives, sometimes carrying information between two people who are no longer even communicating directly. What makes the situation complicated is that not every flying monkey necessarily understands the role they are playing. Some may know exactly what they are doing and actively enjoy participating in the conflict, while others may genuinely believe they are supporting somebody who has been badly treated.

That distinction is important because human relationships are complicated. Somebody passing information does not automatically mean they are deliberately participating in narcissistic manipulation. A concerned relative may genuinely believe they are attempting to resolve a disagreement. A friend may have heard only one side of events and understandably sympathised with the person telling the story. Another person may simply lack boundaries and not appreciate the damage caused by repeating private conversations. The important thing is therefore not necessarily the label but the pattern of behaviour. If somebody repeatedly gathers information from one person, carries it to another, returns with a reaction and then continues the process, they are helping to maintain a triangle of communication that can keep conflict alive long after it should have ended.

A particularly difficult type of flying monkey can be the family member who appears to thrive on being involved. They always seem to know what is happening, often before everybody else. They ask questions that appear to be motivated by concern but somehow lead directly into highly personal subjects. They tell you what the other person has supposedly said, wait for your reaction and then disappear back to the other side carrying whatever you have just told them. They may sit in your home agreeing wholeheartedly with your version of events, expressing sympathy and perhaps even criticising the other person, only to sit with that person later and apparently agree with them just as enthusiastically. You can eventually find yourself wondering whose side they are actually on, when the answer may be that they are not genuinely on anybody’s side except their own.

This is the classic person who can hunt with the hound and run with the fox. They can seemingly adapt themselves to whichever person is sitting in front of them. With you, they understand completely why you feel hurt. With the other person, they completely understand why you are supposedly the problem. They can present themselves as supportive to everybody while quietly ensuring that information continues flowing through them. Their importance comes from occupying the middle ground. They have access to both sides, they possess information that one person does not know about the other, and they become the messenger through whom communication travels. They may even begin to feel indispensable because both parties increasingly rely on them to discover what the other person is saying or doing.

For somebody who enjoys attention, gossip, importance or emotional drama, being placed in the middle can be remarkably rewarding. They possess information other people want. They receive phone calls. They are asked questions. They are trusted with secrets. They can reveal one carefully selected piece of information and immediately watch the emotional reaction it produces. Then they can carry that reaction back to the other person and start the entire process again. The uncomfortable reality is that if the conflict eventually ends, their role disappears with it. Nobody needs a messenger when nobody is sending messages. Nobody needs an intermediary when two people have genuinely moved on. That can create an unhealthy incentive, consciously or otherwise, for somebody who enjoys being in the middle to keep the drama alive.

This is where the familiar phrase “I’m only trying to help” deserves closer examination. A genuine peacemaker normally tries to reduce conflict rather than continually supplying it with new material. They respect privacy. They recognise that some information does not need to be repeated. They do not carry every insult from one person to another, knowing perfectly well that it will cause distress. They do not deliberately provoke emotional reactions and then report those reactions back. Most importantly, they understand that helping two people move away from conflict sometimes means refusing to become the communication channel between them.

Compare that with somebody who repeatedly approaches you with statements such as, “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but do you know what they said about you?” The first question worth asking is not necessarily what was said. Ask yourself why this person is telling you. What constructive purpose will knowing this information serve? Is it something you genuinely need to know for your safety, finances, children or legal position, or is it simply going to upset you? Will hearing it improve your situation, or will it predictably produce an emotional reaction that the messenger can then take somewhere else? Sometimes the most revealing part of a conversation is not the information being delivered but the motivation behind delivering it.

This pattern can create an almost perfect cycle of conflict. One person says something during an emotional conversation. The flying monkey carries it to the other person, perhaps accurately, perhaps embellished and perhaps stripped of context. The recipient becomes angry or upset and responds emotionally. That reaction is then carried back to the original person, who reacts to the reaction. Another comment is made, another message is delivered and another argument begins. Eventually, the two people may barely communicate directly at all, yet they remain locked in an ongoing conflict conducted almost entirely through a third party.

This triangular communication can also create misunderstandings because you rarely know exactly what was originally said. You only know what somebody claims was said. Tone disappears, context changes and individual words can be subtly altered. “She said she doesn’t want to speak to him at the moment” can become “She said she never wants to see you again.” “He was upset about what happened” can become “He was absolutely furious with you.” Sometimes those differences are innocent consequences of imperfect memory, but sometimes exaggeration makes the information more interesting and therefore more valuable to the person carrying it.

Flying monkeys can become particularly influential during a smear campaign because they provide something extremely useful: apparent independent confirmation. Instead of one person making negative claims about you, several people gradually begin repeating similar versions of the same story. A relative tells a friend, the friend tells somebody else, and that person repeats it to another mutual acquaintance. Eventually, individuals who witnessed absolutely nothing may speak about your relationship with extraordinary confidence, as though they were standing in the room when particular events occurred. The original source of the information can almost disappear because everybody has now “heard something.”

Repetition, however, does not create truth. Five people repeating information originating from the same person are not five independent witnesses. They are five people repeating one source. This distinction becomes particularly important when serious allegations are involved. Somebody saying, “Everybody knows what happened” can sound powerful until you discover that “everybody” ultimately received their information from exactly the same individual. The number of people repeating a claim tells you very little about whether those people actually witnessed the events themselves.

The flying monkey can also become extremely useful as an information-gathering tool after a relationship has ended. Perhaps you have blocked your former partner on social media or stopped responding to messages. Suddenly, somebody else begins casually asking whether you are seeing anyone, where you have been, what you are doing at the weekend or whether you are planning to move. Individually, these questions may seem completely innocent. The pattern becomes more significant if you repeatedly discover that information you have shared privately somehow finds its way back to somebody from whom you deliberately withheld it.

Social media has made this considerably easier. A person does not necessarily need direct access to your profile if somebody else is willing to provide screenshots, describe your posts or report who appears in photographs. You can technically have no direct communication with somebody while they continue receiving a detailed commentary about your life through mutual contacts. This is why boundaries sometimes have to extend beyond simply blocking or distancing yourself from the person at the centre of the original conflict.

One of the easiest mistakes to make when you recognise a flying monkey is to confront them dramatically and accuse them of manipulation. Sometimes that may be appropriate, but frequently it simply creates another argument and provides more material to be carried back. A quieter response can be considerably more effective: reduce their access to information. You do not need to justify every boundary. You can simply say, “I’m keeping that private,” “I’d rather not discuss it,” or “I don’t want messages passed between us.” If somebody is genuinely motivated by concern, they should be capable of respecting that boundary. If they repeatedly attempt to get around it, that behaviour tells you something useful.

It is equally important not to turn the flying monkey into your own messenger. When somebody tells you what your former partner has supposedly said, it can be extremely tempting to reply, “Well, tell them this from me.” The moment you do that, you have reinforced the triangle. The messenger now has something new to deliver and another reason to return with the response. If you genuinely need to communicate with somebody for legal, financial, parenting or practical reasons, use an appropriate direct or professional communication channel where possible rather than feeding information through somebody who appears to enjoy being caught in the middle.

Watch behaviour rather than declarations of loyalty. Somebody can repeatedly tell you they are trustworthy while demonstrating that private information never remains private around them. They can insist they hate drama while somehow appearing at the centre of every argument. They can claim they do not want to become involved while continuously asking questions, passing messages and reporting what everybody else has said. Eventually, patterns matter more than explanations. If information repeatedly travels through the same person, adjust what you tell that person accordingly.

You also do not necessarily need to prove whether somebody is deliberately acting as a flying monkey. Trying to establish their exact motivation can become another exhausting psychological puzzle. Perhaps they genuinely believe they are helping. Perhaps they enjoy the drama. Perhaps they have been manipulated themselves. Perhaps they simply have poor boundaries. The practical response can remain exactly the same: if somebody repeatedly carries information between you and a person from whom you are trying to distance yourself, stop providing them with information you would not want carried back.

This can be especially painful when the person involved is a family member or somebody you previously trusted. You may feel betrayed because you assumed conversations were confidential. You may also discover that somebody who appeared sympathetic towards you has been equally sympathetic towards the other person. It can be tempting to confront them with every contradiction, but sometimes the most valuable thing you can do is simply recognise the pattern and adjust your expectations. Trust does not have to disappear completely, but access can change. You decide what information somebody is entitled to receive based on what they have demonstrated they will do with it.

The ultimate objective is not to identify and label every person around you as a flying monkey. It is to recognise unhealthy patterns of triangulation and stop participating in them. Healthy relationships generally allow people to communicate directly, maintain appropriate privacy and establish boundaries without recruiting audiences. Dysfunctional relationships often expand conflict outward, creating teams, messengers, intermediaries and spectators until an issue that originally involved two people appears to involve an entire community.

Sometimes escaping narcissistic or dysfunctional relationship drama is therefore not simply about distancing yourself from the person at the centre of it. It also means recognising the routes through which that drama keeps finding its way back into your life. You can block a telephone number, remove somebody from social media and end direct communication, but if another person continually arrives carrying their messages, asking their questions and reporting your answers, the connection has never completely been broken.

Real peace often begins when the triangle finally stops. No more messages carried backwards and forwards. No more responding to second-hand insults. No more explaining yourself to people who were not present. No more providing personal information to somebody who repeatedly passes it elsewhere. No more allowing somebody else’s conflict to dictate what you think about for the rest of the day.

You cannot necessarily control what other people say about you, who believes them or who chooses to become involved. What you can control is the information you provide, the conversations you participate in and the boundaries you establish. Once somebody repeatedly demonstrates that they cannot be trusted to remain outside the conflict, you do not have to keep giving them access to it.

Sometimes the flying monkey loses their influence for one very simple reason: you stop giving them anything to carry.