Narcissists and Funerals: How They Act, Behave and Use It To Their Advantage

So, I’ll be honest upfront: I’m not a psychologist, and I’m definitely not here to tell you how narcissism works.

You already know that better than I do. But I’ve spent enough time around this topic to know that something strange happens when narcissists show up at funerals—and it’s not just odd behavior.

It’s the way they reframe grief, attention, and even legacy into something they can use. And that’s what I want to explore here—with your expertise in mind.

Here’s what got me thinking: funerals are emotionally charged spaces where social norms are incredibly strong.

People are expected to behave a certain way—quiet, respectful, emotionally available but not performative.

In most cases, even folks with rough edges tend to follow the script, at least outwardly.

But narcissists?

The ones who fall closer to the clinical end of the NPD spectrum? That’s where it gets interesting.

I don’t need to tell you about grandiosity, lack of empathy, or the endless pursuit of validation—those are in the DSM-5.

But what’s fascinating to me is how all of those traits collide with the structure of a funeral. A setting where the narcissist isn’t the main character (for once), where empathy is expected, and where humility is basically part of the dress code.

That kind of environment isn’t just uncomfortable for a narcissist—it’s threatening. And in response, they do what they do best: they adapt the setting to serve their needs.

Now, I know what you’re probably thinking—yes, all personalities show up differently in grief. Grief is personal. Complex. Sometimes even contradictory.

But that’s exactly why narcissistic behavior at a funeral stands out. It’s not just atypical, it often disrupts the emotional landscape of the room.

And that’s the space I want to zoom in on.

This blog isn’t about diagnosing anyone in the pews or pathologizing every awkward moment at a memorial.

Instead, it’s about unpacking the dynamics that can show up when narcissism intersects with loss. What does that look like behaviorally?

How is it experienced by others in the room?

And more provocatively—how might a narcissist use that moment for their own gain?

So let’s dive into the anatomy of narcissistic behavior at funerals. What are they supposed to do?

What do they actually do?

And how can the rest of us—especially those trying to grieve—protect our emotional space when things start to get weird?

Ready?

Let’s get into it.

How Is a Narcissist Supposed to Act at a Funeral?

Okay, so let’s level with each other for a second: we know there’s no one-size-fits-all when it comes to how people grieve. Mourning is culturally shaped, emotionally messy, and deeply personal. But we also know there are unspoken rules—especially in Western contexts—about how people are “supposed” to behave at a funeral.

Think: solemnity, humility, support for others, and a kind of collective emotional focus on the person who died. The spotlight isn’t really on the mourners—it’s on the memory.

Now, this is exactly where the narcissist starts to clash with the setting.

If we think about how narcissistic traits show up—grandiosity, entitlement, lack of empathy, constant need for admiration—it’s easy to see how a funeral can feel like an awkward or even hostile space for someone wired this way.

After all, the emotional currency of the day isn’t about them. It’s about grief, legacy, and communal mourning.

But for a narcissist, the instinct is often to find—or create—a way to make it about them.

Let’s break this down.

When you put a narcissist in a room full of people gathered around a common emotional cause, something starts to happen.

You’ll often see two dominant modes of behavior: emotional overperformance and emotional absence—sometimes even within the same individual.

And the shift between the two isn’t always conscious. It can be strategic, manipulative, or even a form of psychological self-protection.

Emotional Overperformance

This is the cousin of the classic narcissistic attention grab.

Think dramatic crying during the service, loud sobbing that draws eyes, or impromptu eulogies where the narcissist paints themselves as central to the deceased’s life—even when they weren’t particularly close. There might even be competition with others over who is grieving “the most.”

Why does this happen?

Because vulnerability is uncomfortable for the narcissist unless it can be controlled and admired. If they cry, it often needs to be noticed. If they speak, it’s not just about honoring the dead—it’s about elevating themselves.

Emotional Absence (Disengaged or Stoic)

On the flip side, some narcissists go cold. Not in a dignified, “quiet grief” kind of way, but in a disconnected, sometimes even dismissive manner. They might show up late, dress inappropriately, scroll through their phone, or sit in the back with arms crossed like they’re above it all.

And when someone gently comments on it?

You might get the classic narcissistic defense: “Everyone grieves differently.”

Which—yes—is technically true. But what you often see isn’t grief, it’s indifference wrapped in a socially acceptable excuse.

Internal Narrative: “This Is About Me”

What’s going on under the surface? From what I’ve read and gathered from clinicians who’ve seen this firsthand, many narcissists reinterpret a funeral as a storyline that they are somehow the lead character in. It could be guilt-deflecting (“I was the only one who truly understood them”), self-aggrandizing (“They told me I was their favorite”), or even weirdly competitive (“People are showing me more love than the actual family”).

It’s not that they can’t feel sadness or loss—it’s that their primary psychological filter reframes the loss in terms of how it affects their self-image and social role.

That’s the real tension: grief, for most people, decentralizes the self. For a narcissist, it can trigger the opposite.

So what are they “supposed” to do? Empathize. Support others. Share space. Show humility. Mourn in a way that’s attuned to the people around them.

But instead, they often struggle to regulate their emotional presence unless it aligns with their internal need for validation, status, or control. And that’s where things start to get… messy.

And, depending on the relationships in the room, sometimes harmful.

How Narcissists Use Funerals to Their Advantage

So now that we’ve unpacked the how behind narcissistic behavior at funerals, let’s talk about the why—or more specifically, what’s in it for them. Because here’s the thing: for many narcissists, a funeral isn’t just a sad event. It’s an opportunity.

It’s a stage.
It’s a spotlight.
It’s a captive audience of emotionally vulnerable people.

And if there’s one thing narcissists are good at, it’s reading the room—and then finding a way to dominate it.

Here are some of the most common ways narcissists use funerals to serve their own agendas:

1. Gaining Narcissistic Supply

This is the big one. Whether it’s attention, sympathy, praise, or even just being noticed—funerals are like an open bar of emotional energy for narcissists.

They might exaggerate their relationship with the deceased to become a “main character” in the grief story, or position themselves as the one who’s really struggling and needs extra care.

They might say things like:

“We had a special bond no one else understood.”
“I was their favorite—ask anyone.”
“I don’t know how I’ll go on.”

It’s less about the deceased, and more about collecting emotional validation from the people around them.

2. Controlling the Narrative

Narcissists often feel an intense need to shape how people see them, especially in emotionally charged moments.

At a funeral, they might hijack eulogies, speeches, or even casual conversations to retell history in a way that flatters their role in the deceased’s life.

They may:

Rewrite or exaggerate shared memories.
Minimize or erase past conflicts with the deceased.
Publicly take credit for things they never did (e.g., “I took care of them in the end”).

It’s all about spinning the story to maintain control over how they’re perceived.

3. Triangulating and Manipulating Relationships

If the narcissist has a long-standing history with family drama (which, let’s face it, they often do), funerals become fertile ground for reigniting old tensions.

Why?

Because everyone’s raw—and narcissists are experts at emotional triangulation.

They might:

Stir the pot between grieving family members.
Make side comments to create suspicion or resentment.
Use the chaos to drive wedges or form alliances.

All while presenting themselves as the “voice of reason” or “victim.”

4. Performing Superiority Through Grief Policing

This one’s subtle but incredibly damaging. Narcissists may judge or shame others for how they’re grieving.

Why?

Because if someone else’s grief threatens to draw more attention, they need to bring it down a notch.

Things they might say or imply:

“They’re being dramatic.”
“If they really cared, they’d be crying more.”
“I’m the only one handling this maturely.”

It’s all about re-establishing their own emotional hierarchy—grief becomes a competition.

5. Image Crafting and Public Reinvention

This is especially common if the narcissist has done damage to their reputation (in the family or community) and sees the funeral as a chance to rehabilitate their image.

They might:

Step into a caretaker role to appear noble or selfless.
Make a big show of helping organize the funeral.
Use the platform to broadcast virtue—generosity, wisdom, forgiveness, etc.

It’s not about the deceased. It’s a PR moment.

6. Testing Boundaries Under the Guise of Grief

This one gets dark.

Narcissists sometimes use funerals to re-initiate contact with estranged relatives, ex-partners, or former friends—people who’ve set boundaries with them. Grief softens people, and narcissists know that.

They might:

Guilt-trip someone into a conversation (“Life’s too short for grudges.”)
Frame the funeral as a “second chance.”
Push for emotional closeness when others are vulnerable.

This isn’t reconciliation—it’s control dressed as compassion.

7. Deflecting Accountability

If the narcissist had a complicated (or toxic) relationship with the person who died, a funeral is the perfect place to rewrite that history. You might hear them:

Reframe past abuse as “tough love.”
Portray themselves as misunderstood heroes.
Blame the deceased for the fallout in their relationship.

In some cases, they might even deny or minimize things that are public knowledge—all to dodge guilt or preserve their sense of superiority.

It’s wild, right?

Because on the surface, a lot of this behavior can look like someone just grieving differently.

But when you zoom out and start connecting the patterns, you can see the underlying drive: it’s not about mourning—it’s about maintaining their emotional ecosystem. About staying in control, staying admired, staying on top.

And the tricky part is, they’re often so good at cloaking their motives in the language of grief that it doesn’t always register right away. But once you know what to look for, the manipulation becomes much easier to spot.

Is This Behaviour Justified? (+ What Can You Do As a Person?)

Let’s start with the big question: is this kind of behavior from narcissists at funerals ever justified?

Short answer?

No.

But as with most things involving narcissism, it’s complicated.

Now, from a purely clinical standpoint, narcissistic traits and behaviors often come from deeply rooted psychological defense systems. You know the deal—shame avoidance, fear of insignificance, attachment wounds, emotional regulation issues.

So when a narcissist is faced with a funeral, it’s not just sadness or grief they’re navigating—it’s a direct threat to their constructed sense of self. Vulnerability, mortality, being sidelined—those are huge triggers.

So yes, on a technical level, we can understand why narcissists act out during high-emotion events like funerals. But understanding is not the same as justifying.

And it definitely doesn’t mean people around them should excuse it or absorb the fallout.

What’s particularly hard is that narcissists often convince others—and sometimes even themselves—that their behavior is a valid response to grief.

But if their actions harm others, center themselves inappropriately, or manipulate the emotional landscape of the room, then no, it’s not justified.

Grief may explain it, but it doesn’t excuse it.

So, what can you do if you’re in that situation?

Whether you’re another mourner, a friend, a therapist, or even a family member who’s been here before—how do you navigate this without getting pulled under?

Here’s a List of What You Can Actually Do:

1. Set Emotional Boundaries

You don’t owe anyone your emotional bandwidth—especially not someone using grief as a tool for control. It’s okay to quietly disengage.

2. Don’t Get Pulled into the Drama Triangle

You know the roles—victim, rescuer, persecutor. Narcissists love casting people into those parts. Stay out of it. Observe without becoming the supporting cast.

3. Keep Your Version of Events Intact

They may rewrite history, distort relationships, or manipulate memories. You don’t have to argue—just hold onto your truth.

4. Support the Real Grievers

Sometimes the narcissist overshadows the people who were actually closest to the deceased. Gently show up for those folks.

5. Avoid Public Confrontations

This one’s tough, but important. A funeral is not the place to try and expose or “correct” a narcissist. It’ll just become a show—and you’ll be part of it.

6. Debrief with Someone You Trust

After the funeral, talk it out. Having your experience validated is key, especially if the narcissist made you feel like you were overreacting or imagining things.

7. Notice the Pattern for What It Is

If this isn’t the first time they’ve hijacked a major event, it probably won’t be the last. Use the moment as data. What are they really showing you?

8. Seek Support if You Need It

Whether it’s therapy, a support group, or just a good friend—don’t carry the weirdness alone. Grief is hard enough without someone else’s dysfunction layered on top.

And if you’re someone who works clinically with narcissistic individuals or family members affected by them, you already know how crucial it is to name these dynamics without demonizing the person.

But in personal grief spaces, protection sometimes has to come before insight.

TL;DR

No, narcissistic behavior at funerals isn’t justified—but it is often explainable through the lens of defense and personality structure. Still, that doesn’t make it harmless.

If you’re caught in the emotional fallout, prioritize your own boundaries, avoid confrontation, and support the people truly grieving. You can’t change the narcissist—but you can keep yourself from getting emotionally hijacked.