To be succinct and private… My incubator worked me for weeks to build rapport and trust with me in my younger days, to get me to tell her a something that she would ultimately, and immediately use and weaponize against me and others.
This wasnt the first time I tried to have a relationship with her, but it did finally open my eyes and become the last. In the many many decades since, I’ve not so much as acknowledge her existence when crossing paths.
Mine was a cold, brittle narcisst. Any good I did, she had done… frequently with stories how someone had told her she was the best they’d ever seen. A less stupid version of Trump.
Sadly, she was actually quite brilliant in her field (biochemistry), while simultaneously being so ardent of an adherent of a panoply of new age crap (psychic healing and the like) that she literally prevented me from getting surgery for a TBI. Instead of much needed medical assistance, I got veggie smoothies and visits to her weird friends. My head still hurts.
There was so much more crap after that, but it was such a revelation as an adult that she would rather I suffer than admit her ‘genius’ wasn’t the solution to all problems.
She died in December. I shrugged.