Why Narcissists Like Joel Runnels Target Educated, Independent Women in Their 30s–40s — And Why Even the Smartest Can Fall

 

I never imagined I’d be writing about this, but here I am — not because I’m stuck in the pain, but because I’ve learned enough to recognize the pattern. This isn’t just my story; it’s a mirror reflecting something much bigger, something many women live through in silence: the calculated targeting of smart, successful, emotionally intelligent women by manipulative, narcissistic men. Men like Joel Runnels.

Let me first break a stereotype. We often hear, “But she’s smart. She should have known better.” As if intelligence alone inoculates someone from emotional abuse. As if having a successful career, a master’s degree, or a world-traveling lifestyle somehow guarantees immunity from betrayal. The truth is, it doesn’t. In fact, those very qualities make you more appealing to predators like Joel.

Women in their 30s to 40s are often entering a new chapter in life. Many have built careers, survived heartbreak, grown wiser. They are not looking for casual hookups — they want emotional depth, partnership, and peace. Their hearts may be open, but their standards are high. This is what makes them seem unshakable. But that openness — that willingness to believe again — is exactly what men like Joel exploit.

Joel didn’t come across as a villain. Far from it. He spoke about human rights. About social justice. About disability advocacy. He was articulate, well-read, and emotionally aware — or at least he presented himself that way. To women like me, that kind of man feels like a breath of fresh air. We’re used to emotional unavailability, ghosting, half-hearted effort. So when someone like Joel enters the picture with intensity, big promises, and seemingly shared values, it feels like alignment. It feels like destiny.

But what it actually is — is strategy.

Narcissistic individuals are highly attuned to what their targets need to hear. They study your strengths, then disguise themselves as your perfect match. For high-achieving women, they mirror ambition, intellect, and emotional fluency. They’re the type who say, “I’ve never met anyone like you,” within days. They’ll talk about shared futures, about family, about travel, about how they’ve been searching for a woman who challenges and inspires them. And we — accomplished, hopeful, and open-hearted — believe them.

Why? Because we want to. Because we’ve done the work. We’ve been through heartbreak and come out more self-aware. We’re ready for something real. But even with all that wisdom, we’re human. We still crave connection, softness, partnership.

And predators know this. They don’t go after weak women. They go after strong women who are in a soft moment.

The illusion lasts for a while. Joel talked about raising a child together. About traveling to new countries. About love that transcends borders and time zones. We planned cities to live in. We talked about values. I allowed myself to believe again. And in doing so, I let my guard down.

That’s when the shift begins. Not all at once, but slowly. Messages become less frequent. Promises get vague. Doubts creep in, but when voiced, they are met with defensiveness. “You’re too emotional.” “You’re overthinking.” The very intelligence and intuition you were praised for suddenly become threats. Gaslighting begins. You start questioning your own perception.

Then the discard comes — sudden, cold, and cruel. In my case, Joel kicked me out in foreign country Uzbekistan, when i should visit him and bring his request everything back from my business trip to Hongkong, China and Indonesia. Only later did I find out he was married, with three childrens. A whole life hidden behind curated words and charming smiles. And I wasn’t the only one. Other women had lived the same cycle with him. We were strong. We were successful. And we were prey.

So why do narcissists like Joel do this? Because it validates their ego. Being with someone accomplished makes them feel powerful. But they also need control — and once they sense you might see through the mask, they either discard or destroy. They test your boundaries constantly. If you allow small manipulations, they escalate. If you resist, they punish.

It’s not love. It’s performance.

And once you see it, you can’t unsee it. The curtain lifts and everything clicks: the intensity, the love bombing, the sudden withdrawal, the emotional confusion, the lies. You’re left not only grieving a relationship but questioning your own judgment. That’s the hardest part — the self-blame.

But let me tell you this: You are not foolish. You are not broken. You are not naive. You were open. You believed. You hoped. And that is not weakness. That is courage.

Joel underestimated something about women like us. He thought we’d stay silent. He thought our dignity would protect his secrets. But some of us speak. Some of us write. Some of us use our pain as power.

Over the next 6 months, I’ll keep writing about this — not out of bitterness, but out of clarity. Because stories like mine are everywhere. And if one woman sees herself in these words and walks away from a manipulator before it’s too late, then every word is worth it.

We need to change the narrative. High-achieving women are not immune to abuse. In fact, they are often targeted precisely because of their empathy, openness, and resilience. Predators like Joel don’t fear rejection — they fear exposure. And the more we talk about this, the less power they have.

So if you’re reading this and see pieces of your story here, know this: You’re not alone. You’re not stupid. You’re not too old or too smart or too educated to have been deceived. You’re human. And your healing starts not with silence, but with truth.

I’ve lost sleep over this. I’ve questioned everything. But each day, I come back stronger. Not because I’m healed all at once, but because I’m reclaiming my story, one word at a time.

Let me also say this: emotional abuse doesn’t look like bruises. It looks like charm. It looks like a voice note saying he loves you after ignoring your message for hours. It looks like an apology mixed with blame. It looks like a man who claims he’s an advocate for others while simultaneously silencing and gaslighting the women in his own life.

Many of these men have public-facing roles. They use the language of healing and justice to mask the harm they do behind closed doors. They hide behind credibility, respectability, and community. And that’s why it’s so hard to call them out. But that’s exactly why we must.

The most heartbreaking part is not the loss of the relationship — it’s the betrayal of trust. It’s the realization that someone looked into your soul, saw your strength, saw your goodness — and decided to exploit it. That’s the kind of betrayal that leaves scars.

But it’s also the kind that transforms you.

Because once you rise from that kind of harm, you become someone who can no longer be fooled. You become a lighthouse for other women navigating similar storms. You become a force.

So yes, I fell for someone like Joel Runnels. But I rose too. And I’ll keep rising. I’ll write, speak, and stand for those who are still finding the words. And I’ll remind every woman reading this that your strength is not what made you fall — it’s what will make you rise.

The truth always finds its way home. And when it does, it brings light with it. A light that will never go out again.