From Haran to Healing: The Emotional Journey of Yaakov

The Torah’s description of Lavan offers glimpses into his personality: how his family first interacted with him, and how, over time, those relationships shifted.

When Yaakov first meets Lavan, the Torah says that Lavan welcomed him because “you are my bone and flesh—עצמי ובשרי אתה.” At first, this sounds innocuous, but as the narrative unfolds, it becomes clear that Lavan only knew how to connect with others when it benefited him. Even this seemingly warm greeting hinted at self-interest.

After Lavan tricked Yaakov into marrying Leah, he was unable to deal with the discomfort of having done something wrong. Instead of acknowledging or apologizing, he deflected Yaakov’s rebuke by claiming, “This is not done in our place”—as if the issue lay with Yaakov, not with his own deception. No self-reflection. No apology. Just blame.

Notably, in the previous parasha, when Betuel was still alive, Rivkah was asked whether she wanted to go with Eliezer to marry Yitzchak. Lavan, by contrast, never asked Leah or Rachel whether they wanted to marry Yaakov. Later in the parasha, they themselves complain that Lavan treated them like strangers and “sold” them in marriage.

For twenty years, Yaakov provided Lavan with a steady stream of narcissistic supply. He worked tirelessly, day and night. He never complained, despite being repeatedly mistreated.

The moment Yaakov decided it was time to leave, Lavan quickly turned on him. When a narcissist senses that their supply is about to disappear, their treatment of others changes—even if the other person has done nothing different.

Yaakov seems to be caught off guard. If he had not changed his behavior, why had Lavan suddenly changed his? Yaakov was beginning to learn that a narcissist is unlikely to ever change—and when they stop getting what they want, they turn on you. “והנה איננו עמו כתמול שלשום”—Lavan was no longer behaving toward Yaakov as he once had.

Eventually, after being unable to contain himself any longer, Yaakov launches into a long, emotional speech listing the ways Lavan had systematically mistreated, cheated, and abused him.

And Lavan’s response? A classic narcissistic reaction: “The daughters are my daughters, the sons are my sons!” Despite having treated them terribly, he cannot acknowledge his wrongdoing. Instead of introspection, he gaslights Yaakov and accuses him of mistreating his own family.

When Lavan finally catches up with Yaakov after his escape, he claims that had he only known, he would have sent them off with “song and music.” But the Torah makes clear that Yaakov left secretly because he saw Lavan’s attitude turning dangerous. Once again, Lavan manipulates reality—casting himself as the victim, the generous host wronged by Yaakov—even though it is obvious he never intended to let them leave, let alone with celebration.

Even after Rachel and Leah themselves explain how terribly they were treated, Lavan has the audacity to tell Yaakov not to mistreat them! “אם תענה את בנותי… ראה אלוקים עד ביני ובינך”—if Yaakov harms them, God will bear witness. His inability to self-reflect is astonishing.

When a narcissist communicates, it is only to receive something in return—power, control, validation, or affection.

Hashem warns Lavan in a dream not to speak to Yaakov either good or bad (“מטוב ועד רע”). It is understandable why he shouldn’t speak badly, but why not even speak positively?

The reason is that when a narcissist speaks “good,” the intention is still self-serving. Even seemingly positive interactions are tools for manipulation, control, or ego inflation. Given Lavan’s absolute lack of self-reflection, any engagement with him was inherently harmful.

After Yaakov hears Lavan’s response to his grievances, he fully understands this. And tellingly, despite Hashem explicitly warning Lavan not to speak with Yaakov, Lavan speaks anyway—and even tells Yaakov about the warning! He cannot fathom that his interactions are toxic; he cannot grasp that his good intentions are not actually good.

Yaakov now realizes that the only way to deal with a narcissist is separation and non-engagement.

This is exactly what he does through the treaty he makes with Lavan. In essence, he says, “Let us separate in peace.” Yaakov recognizes that further engagement would only repeat the past twenty fruitless years. Lavan, true to form, presents a list of demands. To the very end, he shows no capacity for self-reflection—only expectations placed on others. And to the very end, Yaakov wisely chooses not to engage, simply agreeing and moving on. Even when Lavan swears by the name of his idolatrous god of Nachor, Yaakov does not attempt to correct or engage with him. Yaakov is checked out and simply swears by the God of Yizchak.

Lavan’s lack of self-reflection is even encoded in his name. “Lavan”—white, pure—reflects how he viewed himself: incapable of wrongdoing, despite the obvious harm he caused.

There is another important takeaway from this story. Although Rivkah knew exactly what kind of person her brother was, she understood that his daughters, Rachel and Leah, were not to be defined by Lavan’s flaws. They were to be judged on their own merits. Despite any concerns that Rivkah and Yitzchak may have had about Lavan personally, they recognized that his daughters could be, and in fact were, worthy and appropriate partners for Yaakov.