It hasn’t transpired yet, but I fear it will. Or perhaps it has already happened, and I’m simply unaware. I will lose my entire family. While I don’t have many relatives on my mother’s side, I will end up with none. That collection of aunts-but-not-quite, cousins-but-not-really — they too will vanish. They will leave quietly, just as T.S. Eliot suggested, not with a bang but a whisper. An unfortunate dual meaning: they will depart with minimal fuss, taking with them the fabrications spun by my narcissistic mother.
Narcissists follow a predictable pattern. When their actions are called into question, they resort to lies and gaslighting. Naturally, they cannot accept the harsh truths of their behavior. They would never commit such acts. Any incidents are exaggerated, misrepresented, or twisted; those who confront them become the villains. A narcissist merges her identity with that of her victim, refusing to acknowledge her own misconduct while elevating herself to the status of ultimate victimhood. Her narrative transforms into a distorted tale of betrayal, cruelty, and ingratitude — directed toward her.
I have publicly confronted my narcissistic mother, detailing the trauma her actions have inflicted upon me. By now, she has undoubtedly constructed her own version of events.
The Narrative My Narcissistic Mother Spins
Let me share the story she tells. She relocated to my state to be nearer to her grandchildren. However, during the early days of the pandemic, she met a friend for soda outside (after an unmasked car ride and indoor brunch). My husband, understandably upset, addressed her about breaking quarantine due to his asthma, which puts him at risk of severe Covid complications. He even suggested she owed us an apology. Since that moment, we’ve chosen not to see her. (She hasn’t expressed any desire to reconnect, hasn’t called, and informed me of my grandfather’s death via text.)
When she moved, we didn’t assist her. (My husband offered help as long as he wore a mask and kept his distance, but she declined.) We didn’t visit her during her hospital stay. (We learned days later through social media and offered to help, only to be turned away.) We haven’t allowed her to see her grandchildren. (On Halloween, which is also my youngest son’s birthday, she ignored the kids except for trying to lure them into her house with candy — a breach of our prior agreement for Covid safety. Our visit felt awkward and strained. A week later, she requested to drop off a birthday present for my middle son in our mailbox. We suggested she could visit the kids in our yard instead. She disregarded us completely, leaving a gift card without a word. My oldest son’s birthday went unrecognized two months later — not even a phone call.)
I didn’t attend my grandfather’s funeral. (I was informed via text, and it was clear no one would be masked or distanced; I would have been expected to hug everyone, which puts me at high risk for Covid complications. To this day, I’m unaware of how my grandfather passed.)
Now, I find myself penning these painful essays about my mother’s toxic behavior. (I’ve come to terms with the trauma inflicted by my narcissistic mother and hope sharing my story will resonate with others.) I still deny her access to my children. (In the scant interactions my husband has had with her, she has never once inquired about our kids.) She is alone after moving seven hundred miles to be near us. (She’s alone by choice.)
I am the ungrateful child. She was a wonderful mother, and look at how we’ve treated her. How could we do this after everything she has done for us? Where did she go wrong? Did anyone notice signs that I would act this way? I was always a bit peculiar, and yes, I’ve struggled with mental health issues, but she thought I was better than this. How could I spread such hateful untruths? Do I realize the pain I’ve caused her? Well, it’s clear I never cared. I’ve always been rotten at heart. You know, I was an ungrateful child too.
Her Story is Shared Widely
All my cousins and aunts have heard this tale. Her friends — those women who taught me in sixth, seventh, and eighth grade, who felt like family, and whom I will miss more than many of my actual relatives (I’m getting emotional) — they’ve all heard it too. She shares this narrative with everyone. She needs to cast herself as a victim in her own story to give meaning to her tragedy.
When she tells this story, everyone nods in agreement — especially if they’ve read my essays. She’s the one who has been so wronged. I am the ungrateful, terrible person. I represent the ultimate moral failure. She has victimized me once again. Checkmate. My narcissistic mother has taken the last remnants of connection I had.
Because I dared to voice my trauma, I have lost everyone. My healing journey has further complicated my trauma. Now, when I visit my childhood town, I will meet a few friends and one paternal aunt. I won’t see anyone else.
There will be no one left to connect with.
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Search Queries:
- Signs of a Narcissistic Mother
- How to Cope with Family Estrangement
- Understanding Narcissism in Family Dynamics
- Navigating Relationships with Narcissists
- Finding Support After Family Loss
In summary, the complex web of relationships with my narcissistic mother has led to a profound sense of loss. By exposing her behavior, I have inadvertently severed ties with my family, leaving me isolated. As I navigate this painful journey, I hope my story resonates with others who may be facing similar challenges.