It hasn’t happened yet, but I fear it’s inevitable. Perhaps it has already occurred, and I am simply unaware. I am bracing myself for the loss of my entire family. Though I don’t have many relatives on my mother’s side, I will be left with none. That network of aunts-who-aren’t-aunts and cousins-who-aren’t-cousins will vanish, too. They’ll fade away quietly, as Eliot said, “not with a bang but a whisper.” It’s a bitter irony — they’ll leave without much commotion, taking with them the lies spun by my narcissistic mother.
Narcissists often follow a predictable pattern. When faced with their actions, they resort to deceit and manipulation. Naturally, they struggle to accept these severe allegations. They would never engage in such behavior. Any incidents are exaggerated, misinterpreted, and twisted; the accusers are labeled as liars. A narcissist intertwines her identity with that of her victim, and instead of confronting her actions, she elevates herself to ultimate victim status. Her narrative morphs into a convoluted story of ingratitude, cruelty, and betrayal — directed at her.
I have publicly addressed the harm inflicted by my narcissistic mother. I’ve shared the trauma that her behavior has caused. By now, she has likely crafted her own version of events.
The Narrative My Narcissistic Mother Constructs
Let me recount the story she tells. She claims she relocated to my state to be nearer to her grandchildren. However, early in the pandemic, she chose to have a drink with a friend outdoors (after a masked car ride and brunch indoors). My spouse was understandably upset. (He calmly pointed out her breach of quarantine protocols, given his asthma and the risks of Covid; he suggested we could see her in two weeks.) He even had the audacity to state that she owed us an apology. Since that moment, we have barred her from visiting. (She has shown no interest in reaching out, even notifying us of my grandfather’s passing via text.)
When she moved, we didn’t assist her. (My husband offered to help as long as he could maintain distance and wear a mask. She declined.) You know we didn’t visit her in the hospital. (We learned about it through Facebook days later and extended our help, but she turned us down.) We have kept her from seeing her grandchildren. (We dropped by on Halloween, which was my youngest son’s birthday. She barely acknowledged the kids, only trying to lure them into her house with candy — an act she had previously agreed not to do due to Covid precautions. Our visit felt awkward. A week later, she asked to leave a birthday gift for my middle son in our mailbox. We suggested she could see the kids in our yard instead, but she ignored us, leaving a gift card without a call. Even my oldest son’s birthday went without a word two months later — not a single phone call.) I didn’t even attend my grandfather’s funeral. (I learned about it through a text. No one would have worn masks or maintained distance; I would have been expected to hug everyone, which poses a risk for me. I still haven’t learned how my grandfather died.)
Now I’m penning these painful essays about what a terrible person she is. (I’m coming to terms with the trauma caused by my narcissistic mother and sharing it with the hope that it helps someone.) I still don’t permit her to see her grandchildren. (In any minimal communication my husband has had with her, she has never once inquired about our children.) She’s alone after moving seven hundred miles to be closer to us. (She’s alone by her own choice.)
I am the ungrateful child. She was such a wonderful mother, and look at what we’ve done to her. How could we treat her this way, after all she’s done for us? Where did she go wrong? Did anyone notice signs that I could ever act like this? Well, I’ve always been a bit odd, and yes, I’ve had those mental health struggles, but she never thought I’d turn out this way. How could I express such hateful lies? Do I even understand the damage I’ve caused her? Of course, I don’t care. I never did. I was always rotten to the core.
She should have never trusted us, because she always sensed something was off about me. Remember that time I…
She Shares This Tale with Everyone
All my cousins and aunts have heard this narrative. All her friends — those women who taught me in middle school, who were like aunts to me, and whom I will genuinely miss more than many of my blood relatives (I’m tearing up now) — they’ve heard it too. She tells this story to everyone, needing to cast herself as the victim in her own life to justify her experiences.
Her tragedy demands significance, and this narrative serves that purpose perfectly.
When she shares this tale, everyone nods in sympathy — especially if they’ve read my essays. She has suffered so much. I am ungrateful, cruel, and utterly terrible. I stand as the ultimate moral failure. Once again, she has victimized me. Checkmate. My narcissistic mother has taken away the last remnants of connection I had.
Because I dared to speak about my trauma, I have lost everyone. My recovery has compounded my trauma. Now, when I return to my hometown, I will only see a few friends and one paternal aunt. No one else will be there.
There will be no one to greet me.
For more insights on navigating similar challenges, check out this related blog post on home insemination. For couples looking to enhance their journey, visit this resource for expert advice. Additionally, this support group offers excellent information on pregnancy and home insemination.
Search Queries:
- Understand narcissistic behavior
- Family dynamics and narcissism
- Impact of narcissism on relationships
- Signs of narcissistic personality disorder
- Healing from narcissistic abuse
In summary, the struggle to cope with a narcissistic parent can lead to profound family rifts, often leaving the victim isolated. The narrative crafted by the narcissist can distort perceptions, making it challenging to seek understanding and support. Addressing these experiences publicly may come at a cost but can also serve as a means of healing and connection for others facing similar battles.
Leave a Reply