@kindredspirit123
Narcissistic mother here. When I was young I was her golden girl. She’d dress me like a doll, shower me with praise and love and I worked hard to be the “perfect” child to get more affection from her.
As I got older I presented as more of a “tom boy” which she didn’t like, but I worked even harder to be the sweet, kind, caring daughter who would bend over backwards to please her and make up for the fact I didn’t like dresses. Throughout my entire childhood I never got to choose what clothes I had, how my hair was cut, how my room was decorated. She chose it all. She even picked the make and colour of my first car that I bought with my own money when I was at that point in life.
When I hit my teens, I developed PCOS and gained quite a bit of weight. She blamed me for it, that I needed to stop eating, that I wasn’t pretty anymore “where’s my pretty little girl gone?” I felt like a failure and no matter how much I starved myself, the weight never shifted. My confidence hit rock bottom and still I did all I could to win over her affection once more. This included keeping the affair she was having at the time from my dad. She still controlled all aspects of my life and I was reminded on a daily basis how “difficult” “fat” “unintelligent” I was.
When I was 16 I was diagnosed with depression and medicated with a drug which was later proved to be highly dangerous for teens. The medication made me suicidal. My parents fought over my illness. My dad was confused as to why I’d feel the way I did, my Mum defended me. I thought she’d come round to me again. But quickly used my mental health as the reason to leave my dad (I can’t stay with you if you don’t support our daughter). My dad left, blaming me for the end of their marriage.
The family house was sold and I moved with my mum. My dad moved abroad and I barely saw him. My mum went off with the guy she’d been having an affair with and I was left abandoned in our new house to fend for myself. She’d come home occasionally or she’d be about but with her new man, who I was expected to accept into the home instantly. And I did, to please her once again, I just wanted a mum. A mum who’d take care of me. I was 17 by this point.
My dad sent money directly to me rather than my mum, so I fed myself, ran my own car and generally lounged in my own mental crap without anyone there to support. Stupid me thought it was my fault, that I wasn’t worth sticking around for or supporting.
5 years passed and in that time I found a wonderful gp (quite by accident) who felt I should probably come off my meds and actually see how I felt. It was like coming out of a fog, I suddenly felt motivated and ready to reengage with life. I enrolled myself in college, completed my a levels (3 A’s so can’t have been that dumb) and then I went to university. My mum was surprised I’d suddenly kicked myself into gear. She didn’t involve herself in what I was doing other than to say once that she’d read one of my essays and that the long break from school had obviously done me good because my work was much better.
Up to this point I honestly had no idea how manipulative and controlling my mum was. I honestly thought that’s just what mums were like. At uni I could finally start to discover who I was. What I liked and didn’t. What clothes did I like? How did I like to style my hair? What music was I into? I avoided going home as much as possible and realised how uncomfortable I was when I was home because she’d be trying to control me once again “I’m not sure that outfit is very flattering on you”, “let’s go and get your hair highlighted, you can’t like your hair that mousey brown colour”. I’d find myself complying but feeling weird about it but not really understanding why.
When uni ended I was determined to get a job in another part of the country so that I could distance myself from her. I was happier apart from her and I wanted it to stay that way. I met my now husband at uni so our plan was to move in together. I felt free. But shortly after starting my new job, I found out I was pregnant. I stupidly told my mum and that we weren’t sure what we would do. She demanded we keep the baby and of course I wouldn’t deny her a grandchild. We did keep him and he’s wonderful, but it’s certainly not been easy.
I was once again showered with affection in my pregnancy. She paid for all the new baby things. She was attentive and loving towards me and I felt like I had my mum again (she was now living alone after her relationship ended).
When our son arrived she was wonderful with him. Very loving and attentive. But as time went on, the criticism of my parenting started. I was working full time and I’d get home exhausted to have her then teach me how to hang clothes to dry because I wasn’t doing it right or give me a hard time because some dishes were still in the sink which she had to clear up. Once again I started to feel crap about myself and my capabilities. She saw the crack and she wormed her way through.
Her arriving for childcare had me psyching myself up and then crying when she left after the list of criticisms would be given (always in an “I’m just thinking of you” way).
4 years later I suffered a late miscarriage. My husband was working for a company with zero tolerance for time off for it so I was left to grieve my baby alone. I still had ds at home as it was the school holidays so i asked for help from my mum. I wasn’t sleeping, I was depressed, I was in mourning. She refused, said it was the holidays and she had plans and that I needed to snap out of it so that I didn’t damage ds with my misery ☹️. She told me “it’s just not normal to be feeling the way you do”. I dutifully did as she said and squashed down my grief.
A year later ds2 was born. I found it hard to juggle work with 2 children so hubby and I discussed moving to a different part of the country where we could afford to buy a house and I could stop work. I told my mum our plan. She was horrified that we’d take the children away from her after all she had done for us.
About a month later she came and offered us a 6 figure sum of early inheritance money so that we could buy where we currently were (we’d been in rental the whole time) with a much smaller mortgage. Hubby wasn’t keen. He’d seen my mum first hand and didn’t trust her. I felt like I’d been given a winning lottery ticket. We could stay where we were settled and had friends etc and I could be a sahm. I persuaded hubby to agree and we we found our perfect house and made an offer.
Estate agents wanted proof of funds before accepting the offer. My mum kept delaying on this. 2 weeks of chasing and she finally said she didn’t have what she’d offered. I was devastated, I’d been played once again. She did then offer to give us 1/6 of what she had previously offered. By this point we’d been looking at lots of houses. Ds1 was now 8 and was so excited for us to be getting our own house (I was too). We had the mortgage lined up and with the much smaller contribution we could buy something as long as I still worked. We were so invested in the whole thing that I decided we should just do it, I’d been working with the kids the past 8 years, what was a few more years?
What I failed to recognise was that reason I wanted to stop work was so that I could be a more present mother and not constantly stretching myself thin in a very demanding job and the demands of being a parent.
We bought a house and then a month after completion I had a full blown break down. The stress of juggling the job and kids finally was too much, on top of my mum’s games with the money.
Luckily hubby got a promotion around the same time so we worked out that we could limp by without me working until I was healed. I told mum we wouldn’t need her anymore for childcare because I was stopping work and she was furious. I really had taken the children away from her. How could I be so heartless!?
I then started therapy and that is when it was pointed out how manipulative and controlling she is. How her needs have always been the priority at the expense of mine.
I stupidly decided to have it out with my mum. We sat and had coffee and I explained how her behaviour and actions had made me feel over the years. Most of her response was that she couldn’t remember the event but over the house thing she did admit to being manipulative. She just didn’t want us to move out of reach of her (we’d always been at least an hours drive from her in all this time). We parted with her saying she needed to reflect and maybe she needed a bit of therapy herself. I felt like we made headway.
The following day I received a text apologising that she had hurt me, but that i had hurt her too. She then listed ways I’d hurt her over the years. These included that she wasn’t given a job to do at our baby’s funeral and she felt left out when others did readings etc and that she hated my wedding day because I’d snapped at her at 6am that morning over me having to mess about with car seats because she’d not met me the evening before to do it like I asked.
Each thing she listed was a key event in MY life where I’d hurt her because she had not been prioritised. It dawned on me then, that she is what she is and I can’t change that. But I have since made sure we need her for nothing so she has no leverage. I still make us see her every couple of months for lunch so the kids can see her but that’s it. I have clear boundaries which she’ll challenge if I give her the chance, so I have to be careful. But I can truly see her for what she is now. I can also see as a mum now, just how badly she let me down and that none of it was my fault. I was worthy, smart, capable with so much to offer. I still am, and she can’t control me anymore.
Goodness that is an essay! Would love to hear your narcissistic parent experience. Sorry if mine was too detailed. My mum definitely got worse the older I got. I guess because I was trying to be more independent. She liked having me need her for something so that she could pick and choose what she wanted. The control was always with her.
Wow Kindredspirit, thanks for sharing all that! I read it with interest. She sounds a similar to my mum.
My mum was not TOO bad while I was a child. But I can remember a lot of times that she wouldn't let me participate in things at school, I always had to be the odd one out. She refused to send me to school in my uniform on photograph day, making me feel awkward, and then she never bought any photos. She had arguments with my teachers and pulled me out of schools. I went to 3 different primary schools, always the new kid, never had any friends. She didn't like me having friends. She never let me have a birthday party and she rarely let me go to others birthday parties.
She instilled fear into me about virtually everything! And then humiliated me in front of strangers by shouting at me so that everyone would look at me.
She always had a temper for as long as I can remember. Always pretty grumpy, hardly ever happy or smiling.
I have an older brother who she adores. He was a bully to me as a child. Growing up I was criticised for almost everything by her and my brother. Even now I am conscious of everything I do, always thinking someone is watching me and criticising. My dad was virtually non existent, he just did everything to please my mum because her anger was so awful.
My brother was the golden child, he is super intelligent and in comparison I was thick. I was talented in art, but thick and stupid. I remember my mum talking to someone and saying "oh Peter (not his real name) is so clever, everything just comes easy to him, but Sophie (not my real name) has to try so hard to get anything". That really upset me.
I remember one time being told I smelled by my brother and my mum walking past and agreeing. I was about 10 at the time.
That gives a bit of an idea of my childhood.
When I had my first boyfriend at 17 she hated that idea, and she hated him because he was from the wrong side of town and came from a poor family. I loved him, I real didn't care! We did split up eventually but we were both young.
As a young woman she started having a bad time with my brother. My parents decided to move out to France for their retirement leaving me without a home. Luckily I had a stable relationship with my now husband, and I had to stay with him and his parents. My brother then had MH issues and a bad marriage. He phoned me saying he was about to jump off a bridge. I did everything I could for him at the time and my parents weren't around. My parents found out and it caused my mum to "cry for 2 weeks solid".
Over the next few months my dad kept going on about how they wanted me and my then fiancé to go and live over there with them. I stupidly went! We gave up our jobs and went out there. My fiancé said he just wanted me to be happy.
We spend 2 and half years over there. My parents alienated all the other ex-pats just by saying the wrong things and generally being unlikeable people. Me and my fiancé were embarrassed. We made our own friends but my mum continually called them names to us and pointed out everything wrong with them.
Eventually we decided to return to the UK for work and rented a little house. They followed us a year later back to the UK and moved just up the road from my brother. For a few years all was well. My brother was still a problem but he was their problem and I didn't get involved.
Then me and my husband decided to start a family. I got pregnant with identical twin girls! Then disaster struck and I lost the pregnancy at 6 months. But somehow it was all about my mum and how she was feeling, how sad she was, how she cried al the time and she couldn't understand how I could get on with my life. I was devastated! But somehow I felt I had to prove this. She made out that I was uncaring.
Then I had a daughter and she was so involved, but never actually helped in the way I needed help. I had PND and anxiety. She did nothing but criticise "how can you be so depressed with such a beautiful baby?" She made me feel bad about feeling bad. I was lonely during the days and on a couple of occasions I stayed with them mon-fri for help, but they never actually just gave me a couple of hours to rest and I badly needed it.
Then my mum suggested selling their house and putting the money as a deposit on a house for all of us to live. And stupid depressed me went and did it! The next 3 years were the worst of my life! My mum's temper and criticisms were daily. She decided she didn't like my husband, he was too quiet, and had the audacity to just go to the toilet without announcing where he was going (yes, this WAS something she took offence to). There were so so many things she didn't like. Apparently we "made her and my dad feel unwelcome after all they had done for us" was a favourite criticism. We did nothing of the sort! In fact it was us who felt unwelcome because they systematically got rid of all our stuff to make way for their stuff. Then I said her Royal Doulton figurines were a little outdated. OH MY GOD the wrath I got for that. It got brought up in every argument! Never mind how she insulted everything I owned.
Life with her was dreadful. I was always on edge waiting for the next argument. My husband got mad one night and stormed out of the house. So she used that to say he was a bad father in front of his child. She called him so many names, disgusting vile names. We separated not long after. For 4 months I was bombarded with insults, being shouted at, threatened etc. They said my husband could never come back-or they would leave. So I left. I took my daughter and left. I had just had enough!
We now live in a rented 2 bed apartment and we are waiting to put the house on the market. My mum says I have treated her so badly and she has done nothing wrong. I haven't treated her badly, I have always done as she wanted. I am even paying the mortgage on a detached 4 bed house that I don't live in so that they can move out at their leisure. They've got until February then it's going on the market.
My mum uses childcare as a means of controlling me because she thinks I need her. But my daughter has started school and I don't need her any more. She hates it.
In the last few months being away from her I have been trying to heal emotionally from the trauma. It has been hard. But there is light at the end of the tunnel at last.
Phew!