We have our issues, right? I suspect that while our circumstances are wildly different, adult children of narcissists have a lot in common. Maybe, not a secret handshake, but a secret. We hate the abuse we received from our parent, but we sometimes see their behavior in ourselves.
There is a trait that some humans have that grates against me more than most. Grandiose or histrionic behavior feels like sand in the ass crack of my psyche.
My father’s grandiose behavior was completely over the top and transparent. I felt humiliation to be near him when he started telling his fantastical, self-serving lies. I felt guilty by association. He was my father. I came from him. I was stained by his lies and that shit wasn’t washing off.
I wrote about picking up my own narcissistic tendencies and my uneasy alliance with the truth a few years ago. I didn’t give any examples, though.
I have never spoken this story out loud. Not even to Randy.
Pretty sure in the end, the story will seem somewhat tame. Perhaps even understandable, but it’s still a memory that makes me cringe and keeps my belief that I’m a fraud alive and well.
Anyway.
My paternal grandmother was not a pleasant woman. We will leave it at that.
When my older son, Zach was a baby, she had a stroke, fell into a coma, and died. She was 71 years old. I didn’t grieve.
The day after she died, I went to work and with a small group of coworkers gathered around me, I told the most heart wrenching sobbing tale of love and loss. I spoke of a tearful goodbye between my father and his mother. I talked about the declaration of love and acceptance he got from his mother before she shuffled her mortal coil. Not a word of the story was true. None of it. My father did grieve, that part was true. But there was no resolution between him and his mother. There wasn’t even an acknowledgment that a resolution was needed.
Did I tell the story because that is the reality I found enviable? Is that the story that I wanted to be true because it was filled with love and hope? Sure. That is more than likely true. Not the whole truth, though. The truth also included how much I craved the attention I received from my coworkers, some of who were moved to tears, by my story.
I had the stain of my father’s lies.
I shed my need to fabricate events or inflate reality years ago. It wasn’t until I started blogging, however, that I began to crave my own truth as much as I craved that attention all those years ago.
I have learned that it’s not enough to refrain from telling lies. I also need to live my life as honestly as I can.
I really want to say the words “I want to be true to myself” however, my second husband ruined that phrase for me. He used those words in order to be cruel and wreak havoc. Being true to himself included telling every secret I ever had to a lot of my people. Including my maternal grandmother. It was horrifying, yet strangely freeing.
I can’t claim to say I am 100% authentic. I still don’t understand what that means for me. Writing this blog has helped quite a bit. The more I explore my feelings and beliefs and allow my thoughts to exist as much as I can without judging them, the more I see who I am. It’s taken years, but I have finally reached the conclusion that I don’ t suck. Go me!
I almost didn’t write this because citing a specific example of my own dishonest and grandiose behavior makes me squirm. I recall that and I feel ashamed of myself.
But do you know what? I was who I was then. I was broken, scared and confused. I had no idea why I was who I was. I knew that my relationship with my father was horrible, but I didn’t understand how far reaching the damage he inflicted went.
I am ready for forgive myself that behavior. I might as well. I can’t go back and change it. The person who got hurt most by it was me. I am not going to claim I have no amends to make in life, but I don’t owe anyone else an apology for any lie I told decades ago. I just have to forgive myself for that shit.
Adult children of narcissists have their own unique experiences, but there is also a sameness among ACONs. If you see yourself in any of this, consider joining me and letting go of feeling ashamed or bad for behaving in a way that you were conditioned to behave. Or, and no judgment here, if you are still hiding behind lies and craving attention enough to inflate stories to get attention, then consider letting that go. Living honestly is so much easier. It’s exhausting to support lies. Finding your own truth, even if your truth is quiet, is much more pleasant that coasting on falsehoods.
I think that the nature of being human dictates that we all exist behind some shadows. Shadows created by half truths or shared stories that are reconstructed to protect the innocent. Or the guilty. We need to remember that. The very nature of being human is that we all sometimes lie.
Living as honestly as possible feels good. Forgiving ourselves for past lies helps stoke those good feelings. Let’s try giving ourselves a break. Let’s try practicing some self forgiveness.
XO
Yep, forgiving ones self is easier to say than to do. I’ve gone through 45 years of one incident before I could laugh at it, just recently. No one else probably remembers, I do. Ahh screw it. Color me human.
I’ve said that it doesn’t matter what you tell someone else as long as you know the truth. Some lies I told to survive, living on the streets as I was. Harmless things. Don’t know why I lied. Lack of self esteem? Don’t know. The truth will set you free. You’ll see. Congratulations for getting that off of your chest. Your secret is safe with me. 😛
This is why I love this tribe so much. I write something and find out that I am so much NOT alone and that makes life so much easier to process. 🙂
This came into my inbox as I was sitting here noodling over a future blog post about forgiveness in relation to my mother, who also had her narcissistic tendencies (and who told me a big lie about my father’s identity for 26 years). I am moved by your raw honesty, and all I can say is “Brava.” You’ve done some hard emotional work, and the way you share your lessons learned is gut-wrenching, in a good way. Yay, you.
Thank you so much! I never intended to write about this stuff..it just sort of evolved and ended up being the best therapy ever
Isn’t it odd how certain memories carry so much shameful weight? I hear your story, and have compassion for the person you were, as I’m sure most do. But we struggle to have that compassion for ourselves. I called my brother a really nasty word one night at a restaurant, in front of my whole family, and carried that around for years realizing I had way stepped over a line. I finally asked him to forgive me. He didn’t remember what I was talking about. At all. I’m so happy blogging has helped you. It’s amazing what the power of putting words and feelings down can do. Great post Michelle.
Thank you so much!
Hi Dr. Margaret Rutherford!
I am one of the ones she’s helping by blogging 🙂
Really nice to meet you!
It has been my experience that the agonizing guilt I feel over ‘nasty comments’ and other ‘mean’ behavior is what helps me remember that narcissism may NOT be genetic…
🙂
The really wonderful thing about blogs like this is how I can have my ‘group therapy’ in my jammies, where I’m comfortable (kicking it on Michelle’s couch with Terri Lee 🙂 ) and I have a backspace key to maintain my dignity!
Great post and so much of it rings true with me too.
I also feel like a fraud every single day. I’m constantly surprised that I’m doing well in my degree, thinking that somehow it’s all a big fluke. I hope one day I will find the self confidence and self belief that was eroded from childhood and totally annihilated by my ex husband. (May an Acme 10 ton weight drop on his head).
He, like your ex also decided to share private and privileged information, the first time was at my parents’ dinner table fairly early on in our marriage. I felt utterly betrayed amongst a host of other emotions. That was just the beginning of behaviour that undermined my entire belief system.
If you can’t trust your life partner who can you trust?
For me, even four years after the separation the answer is no-one.
I doubt that anyone would want to get close to me now anyway as I’m probably giving off the stay away signals. All the single guys my age are chasing 20 somethings but I don’t think I want to even contemplate letting anyone in anyway.
Now I share nothing with anyone that would worry me if it was pasted on a billboard in Times Square, or on the front page of a newspaper. That being said I don’t really have any secrets these days. I’m not embarrassed by things I’ve done in my past, I’m way past that. I can laugh at the younger me, or feel sad that I made some of the choices I made, however I no longer care what people think, bar one or two very notable exceptions.
I’ve done so many weird and wonderful things in my life that telling the truth raises eyebrows anyway, so even sticking to the truth can come over as grandiose and I am aware of that so I end up apologising for my existence. I don’t tend to bother relating stories any more as there is an odd reaction to women who have done things outside of the expected. I’m not really looking for attention by relating anecdotes, it’s just as well as it has the opposite effect, people look askance at me, change the subject or just look uncomfortable. It’s very strange, I notice people don’t react the same way to men who have had similar lives and stories…anyway that’s a whole different subject, or maybe it is related somehow.
I adore you. Thank you so much for sharing this. I’m so glad we have this tribe. We can lean on each other.
I am NOT surprised you are doing well..but I totally understand why you feel the way you do..here’s to hoping we can both shed our self doubt or at least unload some of it.
Ah, yes. “…I’ve learned my lessons well. Hope I live to tell… ”
Madonna. Late 80’s?
Conditioned behavior. Survival tactics. Soul refrain.
All good words to explain why we feel we have to cover reality with a blanket of protection.
And then I come here and feel the acceptance and approval of the Tribe. I am allowed to be privy to what keeps us up at night. What keeps us going. And above all, what brings us back.
*pats seat*
Terri Lee, sit here! I haven’t heard how Monday went!
Doesn’t Michelle look beautiful in her self-forgiveness tiara?
*scratches at ‘truth discrepancy’ duct tape residue*
Big fat kisses to you…and I also have that Madonna song stuck in my head now. Haha.
“Like a virgin…HEY! Touched for the very first time…” Oh, sorry, that’s for another of Michelle’s posts at another time. 🙂
*scootching in and sitting next to Lisa K. Tucking in my self-forgiveness tutu on each side of my legs so I don’t overflow onto Lisa’s lap*
First, my comment about Michelle’s brilliant post. Again—you freak me the hell out and your tiara ROCKS! I’ve been contemplating this very situation (but my own version, of course) in the past week. Were you ever the recipient of Gaslight treatments? I recall the first ones at a very early age. My father would make some huge announcement to me like “You want a pony? Next week, we’ll go and get you a pony!” It gave him immediate positive attention and made him the “favorite”. Well, of course, a five year old is going to become uncontrollably excited and run to their Mom, “Daddy said he’s getting me a pony next week!!” My mother would then go into the living room and confront my father and he would look right at me and state, “I never said that!” I would stand there, eyes wide open and completely flabbergasted to realize my own father would throw me under the bus rather than take responsibility for his own unacceptable behavior. Fortunately, my mom did realize that he was full of shit. She’d probably had similar experiences with him. I would follow his lead and tell “stories” in school, even to the teacher, and then, get caught in the lies and be punished. I told my entire second grade class that my mom was pregnant (when she wasn’t). At Parent/Teacher night, my teacher congratulated my mom and dad and my mother informed her that she was mistaken. I ended up having to sit out recess for several days. 🙂 Hell, I also had a “cousin”—imaginary—who was not only from France, but she was a top fashion model! Her name was Charlotte! Say hello to Michelle and Lisa, Charlotte! Charlotte’s staying with me while she’s in town. HAHAHA!!! I finally realized how little respect my dad would get, especially later on in his life when his stories/lies would become ever more convoluted and ridiculous. He was never taken seriously. That’s when I made the decision that my integrity would be more important to me than anything else. Anyone can look amazing when you make half your shit up. I decided, for better or worse, to just be who I am. It’s also a hell of a lot less work just being honest! You never have to worry about remembering your bullshit. My lazy genes must outweigh any narcissistic genes I inherited. 🙂
*readjusting my tutu and leaning in closer to Lisa*
Now, as for Monday: it actually went really well. I was anxious as hell the previous night, tossing and turning because of the appointment I had with that attorney. He was already wanting more money and hadn’t done shit for me! Seriously, “basket case” comes close to describing my state of mind. I finally just got up around six, before my alarm even went off, still tense and anxious. About a half hour later, I suddenly felt this strange calm come over me. It was as if my anxiety had suddenly melted away. I noticed, sitting on the kitchen counter, the vehicle renewal papers that had come in the mail for Paul’s truck a couple of months earlier. I got this strong urge that I needed to call them and explain my situation to them. A couple of hours later, after speaking with the nicest, most helpful woman, I called the lawyer and fired his ass! That same day, I was able to go to the tag agency and get all three vehicles in my name and spent a hell of a lot less than what the attorney was asking. Mind you, I had already paid two-thousand to this asshole (of which I am still owed about $375.00 that was left over), but I am choosing to look at it as a very expensive lesson. I feel that Paul was the calm that suddenly came over me out of nowhere and guided me to the correct course of action, sparing me any further anxiety and fear (and drainage of our bank account). But, later on, when the time rolled around where he had picked me up for our date that evening 34 years before, my memories were flooding back on an automatic timeline. Eyes on the clock, I’d say to myself, “Oh, this is the time we were having dinner!” or “Oh, this is when we were sitting together, talking and laughing.” and on and on until the date had come to an end, I had been kissed goodnight and was home again, already falling head over heels at that point. A little over a week ago, I stumbled upon a perfect quote by Dante, “Remember tonight, for it is the beginning of always.” Coincidence? I don’t know. But, it so accurately sums up that first date we shared all those years ago. <3
Oh thank you, not only for your kind words and kinship on my post, but for letting us know how your Monday went and for sharing your memory of Paul. I am sending you the biggest squishiest hug I have.
OMG!!! I LOVE your self-forgiveness tutu!!
I NEVER had cool clothes like that when I was younger, so I TOTALLY wear them now!
(You know…here on Michelle’s couch where we can be our most fantastic and happy selves, wearing all our finery 🙂
*brushes cobwebs off of mis-placed self confidence ‘boobs stand alone’ push-up bra*
I miss Madonna.
Terri Lee… I had so many goosebumps while I read that about your father. *shiver*
I didn’t know it was called Gaslighting. Or maybe I did. As much therapy as I’ve had, I’ve forgotten as many ‘terms’ as I have tried pills to fix them with.
And how about taking the credit for your ‘good ideas’ or ‘accomplishments?’
When I got sober, one of the last conversations I had with Doug consisted of, “This is MY pie! I made it ALL by myself. You don’t get a piece and you don’t get to tell people you helped me make it. Besides, it’s SHIT pie and you aren’t going to like any of the pieces, they all smell and taste like shit!”
(One of the good times to be sober… 🙂
Unfortunately…
*shudder*
I have to Thank him for being a big enough asshole to prove a point to. One of my ‘Soul’ therapists reminds us that it takes ALL the people in our lives to make the lessons learn-able.
And…if it wasn’t for Daddy teaching me these lessons, I wouldn’t have survived/understood/recognized my previous employer’s ‘character deficits.’
*gag*
blechhhh.
I do it because I know I am a better person because of it. I treat people better. I am a better parent. I am a better wife.
Most of all, I can live with my voices. The mean ones, mostly, are gone/controlled/occupied elsewhere.
Sorry you went through it, glad you survived and we can save the next generation.
Doesn’t it seem like we’re reading and seeing more and more on this topic?
(mad frustrated emoticon face that I don’t know how to make. Yet.)
THEN!! I got to the part about Paul and Monday and all the shit you did!!!
Got the GOOD goosebumps 🙂
(did it again! Did you feel it?)
All I can say is WOW. And, I am in awe of Paul. Nice touch 🙂
And you 🙂 I can read the emotion and I am deeply touched at how you were affected. I thought about you all day Monday, just sending you good vibes and happy thoughts 🙂
I knew it was going to be interesting and amazing…I just knew it!!
(I almost DM’d Michelle to see if she’d heard from you!! 🙂
Alas…patience is one of the lessons I’m learning in blogging etiquette.
Thank YOU! Michelle 🙂 I’m lovin’ learnin’ here!!
Seems like we may have pulled off another week of fucking life.
Fuckin’ ‘eh.
*brushes single escaping tear*
I’m so glad I found all this.
*puts new duct tape over mouth*
I feel the same way, Lisa. And just so you know, the term “Gaslighting” comes from the old movie “Gaslight”. I haven’t seen it in eons, so forgot much of the plot, but essentially, Ingrid Bergman’s husband is slowly trying to make her think she’s losing her mind. You speak up about something you see right in front of you and everyone else tells you you are wrong. That it’s only YOU who sees a problem. It’s actually quite evil, if you ask me, and used by people who are only concerned with covering their own asses or making themselves look more special than they deserve. I’ve had therapy myself, probably still need it, but always refused to take their drugs. I also never smoked and I don’t drink, so over-thinking is probably my biggest vice. Oh, and caffeine! I love coffee! Black, no sugar please, if you’re making some. 😀
*smiling to self at your comments regarding my Monday Power Day*
Thank you for thinking of me and for sending all those groovy vibes. I have no doubt they played a role, as well, in my getting through it. And most of all, I have to thank you and Michelle for allowing me to share occasional memories of Paul. Some people around me feel I shouldn’t keep mentioning him, but I don’t want him to be forgotten either. He was such a wonderful man and I feel this need in me to make it known to the world. What causes me the most pain now is also what made me the luckiest woman when he was still here. And even if it meant I wouldn’t be going through what I am at the moment, I would not trade one day I ever had with him. I’d do it all over again.
I’m so, so happy that I found this blog! I agree, Michelle really DOES have the cushiest of couches!
Hey, how is Randy doing? Gone grocery shopping lately? HAHA!
He is doing okay…slow. Tomorrow he goes in for what we hope is one last procedure. And we DID go grocery shopping this morning and his ass has been worn out ever since.
I will totally have your coffee ready, straight up, no chaser! You Toughie, you 🙂
(I like my flavors since I don’t get to use Bailey’s anymore 😉 )
I am glad you are able to share Paul’s good stuff here. The best parts of your life should never be overshadowed by people’s discomfort when you are keeping his memory alive and you need that validation.
I am sending you big squishy hugs like Michelle gives me. They’re the best!
Michelle 🙂 Tell Randy ‘Hi’ for me, too!!
I will! Thank you!
Lying was a form of self-defense when I was growing up. It took decades to realize that people would like the real me.
I have a story similar to Dr. Margaret’s. In my case, too, my brother didn’t even remember the incident.
We torture ourselves better than anyone else can.
Oh god…we do, don’t we? Self torture is a big squishy bag of dicks.
This is a part of a book on children of narcissists- an important book and from I can tell you have quite a bit written.
I am working on a project that deals with this and also humor…sometimes it is hard to marry up these subjects because there is so very little that is funny about parental narcissism.
I think I’ve spent my entire adult life trying not to be my parents. I see bits of them in myself sometimes (less now than in years gone by) and I hate it. I use it as motivation to keep growing and moving forward and away from that self-serving mindset. It was good to read about someone with similar issues!
It’s hard to NOT be at least a little like our parents, how can we not be? I think as long as we keep moving forward and try to be as honest with ourselves as we can, then we’re ahead of the game.
I too have been consciously trying NOT to be my parents, especially my narcissistic mother. She demanded perfection in us while treating us as her personal servants and demeaning us in so many ways, verbally and emotionally. She was the perfect mother and wife to the world, and god save us if we showed a crack in her perfectly sculpted facade in public. My brother had ADD before it was common, and her mortification at being called to the school for his “misbehaviors” earned him far more physical punishments. I became the pedestal child, all As and kudos from everyone so as to avoid her wrath, but ultimately my own “perfection” earned me the disdain of my half-siblings when we moved in with my father later and I became the model they were all held to, an impossible ideal born of fear they didn’t have and circumstances under which they never had lived.
This is heartbreaking. I am so sorry you had to live through this. I wish you and your siblings peace.
You really broke yourself open for this post and I am in awe of your honesty – yes, honesty – and openness about YOU.
Having a blog can be cathartic – I know it is for me – and you are learning, growing, forgiving and loving yourself. Yes, you are loving yourself (I imagine you may have rolled your eyes on that last one) – as it should be. I applaud you.
We now live with a narcissist in our midst and my husband is the one who has to deal with it most. He’s been hurt forever and this past year it hit rock bottom. I stand by his side in helping him deal with it.
You really rock, Michelle.
P.S. I love your way with words and how you can turn them on their ear. “Grandiose or histrionic behavior feels like sand in the ass crack of my psyche.” Laughed out loud. And then felt sadness…
I MIGHT have rolled my eyes a little…but if I’m going to be honest, I would say yes..I am learning to love myself. I almost feel guilty admitting that..at the very least, somewhat uncomfortable.
Thank you, Cathy, I appreciate your kind words so much…and I am sorry you and your husband have to deal with that shit..it’s just a nightmare.
I’m so glad that Roxanne shared your post, Michelle. I read this and kept nodding my head. As I’ve begun to blog, I find myself getting more authentic. However, I still struggle to say things that are part of my history in public. Perhaps, I’m still lying to myself that these will hurt others? I’m working on it. Thank you for showing the way!
Thank you so much! I love it when I connect with people. Good luck..it’s an interesting journey…not easy, but very worth it.
This week I was telling my new therapist how I hate the general assumption that being the “baby of the family” means that you were pampered and spoiled, and got your own way in everything. I think this must be because I wasn’t, and my parent was.
Then, I started to think that his narcissism came from not being endlessly indulged and praised as a kid, but that he must have been like me, overlooked and bullied by the rest of his family. So, I started to worry that I need to guard against blossoming into the controlling, self-centered parent that he is now…
I think you’re fine. I think as long as we understand what happened then we can guard against it. And while I don’t KNOW you know you..I kind of know you and I don’t think you need to worry. Just because we have some of their habits does’t mean we have their disorder.
I meant that when I was a child, my dad was the “baby” of my family. He loved to call me a “baby”, though.
I also struggle sometimes with authenticity – in my case, because I tend to hold grudges – for years – for many, many years. I am thinking about a blogger who had many, many issues with her mother, and it didn’t stop after her mother’s death. I shared this on Facebook because I have a feeling this post will have a lot of value for many of us.
authenticity is hard, yo.
I am glad you found value in this post and glad you took the time to tell me. I appreciate it so much. Peace to you.
Isn’t it terrible? I think I have become much better over time, but there were times when I found myself ying about the way something had happened – for no reason! It wasn’t a more impressive story or an simpler story. I have no reason why my mind worked that way, except, perhaps, having learerned it from seeing others.
Exactly! And there is no point in beating ourselves up over it…just recognize it and change it. And be kind to yourself. We’re all doing the best we can. xo
A brave heart win’s the battle everytime and what a brave heart you have !!!!!!
Thank you. Not always…not by a damn sight..but I have my moments. 🙂
I have several responses to your post. The short one is this: you’re a storyteller…a writer…that’s what you do. I hope you don’t squelch that part of yourself. Just do it on paper, which is what all novelists do.
Second, on telling one’s truth. Man, that’s hard. I keep saying I want to do it but then I sort of “perky up” my truth so it is amusing or not so bald. I hate when I do that because it seems so dishonest. Which is not far, I think, from what you’re talking about here. Thanks for the provocative post!
Thank you so much! I have always been a storyteller (I mean that in a positive way..not a big fat liar way, haha). My humor posts are sometimes exaggerated or I will change up a conversation to make it flow better, but that doesn’t bother me to do that..that is the writing part, that is the good storytelling part. I keep that separate. This is more about how I conducted myself personally and how I yearned for attention. I guess I still do, but I won’t make shit up to get it.
Your writing hits such a nerve with me-it is so liberating to to know that other people can write about things that are just bouncing around in my head. I understand so completely the workplace story. My grandfather and his daughter (my mother) were beloved for their stories. I was the plain little kid that would be muttering,”But it didn’t happen that way at all…”
I can still remember, some 35 years ago overhearing some co-workers talking about how I always made up stories. I thought they liked me because of them-and I had no confidence at all in myself otherwise. The shame of that stuck with me for years.
Long story short, at a late age I realized I was better than my clever, charming and destructive mother. I can to be kind, which she could never be, and it feels darn good.
I am so sorry that happened, but I am glad you are where you are now…regardless of how long it took.
I can’t tell you how many times I thought “but that isn’t how it happened” when I was growing up.
As my brother once said when someone laid the line on him that they would have done something differently if they were him and he said,
No, if you were me, you would have done exactly what I did.
It struck a nerve with me as did your very honest post. Recognizing those things about us that we saw in our parents is hard. Super hard.
I can’t write about the details yet, like you have, but one day I will be as brave as you.
I saw a post on facebook today that said when we are judgemental about someone else’s behaviour it is because it is something in us that hasn’t healed yet.
There is some truth to that.
Oh I believe that absolutely. The things that annoy me the most are because I see the same in myself.
What a moving piece! We can beat ourselves up like no one else can on what we said or didn’t say when we really have to just move on and try to be better the next time!
Exactly! Thank you so much, sister.
Hi Haralee 🙂
Oh, yeah…nobody can kick my butt as hard as me 🙂
But don’t you think we ‘learned’ to do that, as well?
Wasn’t it easier to provide them with something we could handle, rather than find out what else they could assassinate about us?
I still find myself ‘offering’ bits of me to deflect criticism! I hate it… but I’m learning 🙂
Have you heard the song ‘Oops’ by Henry Phillips? I LOVE it 🙂 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D5wb7B7PdJk
I feel a similar guilt when I respond to my husband in the same way I would have responded to my ex. I lied. It was a coping mechanism. I hate lying. And yet I find myself doing it – when I have no need to.
Narcissism victimizes so many.
The trick is to be aware of it. You’ll get there. So will I.
I love you so much! I know exactly what you are talking about.
I applaud your bravery. We all are a product of our combined past. Perfect is not attainable. It’s a journey in that direction.
Exactly!!! And thank you so much!
I hate it when I see my parents in myself! I have hoarder tendencies for sure! My parents can be very bad at never throwing anything out–ever.
It’s hard to NOT have their habits..it’s what we learned.
Hi Michelle! I got online for a minute and wanted to say hi again. I read your post, and remembered why I love reading your blog. I used to exaggerate some stories until they just sort of became part of my history. But they were a false history. It really was when I started commenting on your blog (and Aussa’s blog) that it finally dawned on me that I have plenty of stories to tell that need no embellishment at all to stand on their own and be interesting. And it feels much better to serve the truth, even when I’m the only one who could possibly know which is true and which isn’t.
Yes!! That is exactly tight. Even if we are the only ones who know the truth, it still feels better to say the truth.
“It’s taken years, but I have finally reached the conclusion that I don’ t suck. Go me!” I love this statement. I’m still working on feeling this way. I think sometimes I’m too forthcoming and honest. Sometimes people don’t want the truth, they want what they think should be the truth. Otherwise things are a bit awkward. My brother-in-law recently died and while I loved him in my own way, he didn’t always treat my sister and the kids very well. I didn’t share any stories at his funeral, just a family prayer. My stories would have been very different from some of the others. Thanks for speaking the truth!!
I respect that. I mean, it would have been cruel to say mean things, keeping it to yourself was kind and the best way to not stretch the truth. I am also somewhat blunt, which can be off putting to people. I do try to not be mean, I just feel like it’s best all the way around for people to know who I am. It’s easier for me that way. Personally, I am a fan of direct. Just tell me how it is without sugar coating or side stepping. Don’t make me guess.
In my first marriage I had an attitude that I could prove everyone wrong and do it better than my parents who had split up 2 years before. This arrogant attitude was the run off of my narcissistic father. It caused me to be so self righteous that I forbade my husband to talk to a friend I felt had wronged us. One Sunday night we got a call that this friend had been killed in a car accident. He was 21. We had not spoken for almost 2 weeks at that point and Sunday nights he would have normally been at our house for dinner. I did not cause the accident, I know that now, but I lived out many years with that guilt. I have let go of many of those feelings of arrogance and try to be right less. Spending time turning inward in my yoga practice has helped me to keep those habits of my father’s from seeping out and causing destruction in my life. I feel more authentic now then when I was trying to prove something to the world. Sometimes it’s good not to be in charge.
Thank you so much for sharing this. I am sorry you lost your friend and that you felt that guilt. 🙁
It sounds like you’ve made some excellent changes and choices. That’s the best we can all hope for..to keep evolving.
I am an adult child of a completely self-centered emotionally immature mother. She’s 83…and still everyday it’s all about her. It’s sad…because i don’t want to talk to her but I do out of obligation. She wears me out because she doesn’t really know me. I’m one of six and the middle of five daughters. Holidays are are so stressful because everyone feels they have to make it special for her and all she does is crave attention. I’ve spent my whole adult life trying to be everything different from her. How unfortunate that in her twilight years this is what I think about. I can’t talk to my siblings about it because they would just think I am a horrible person. Ugh…I need to practice acceptance.
I am so sorry you have to go through that. It’s just so damn toxic. I’m sending you peaceful and happy thoughts.
In order to KNOW your authentic self, check out the book, Simple Abundance and the bit about the Golden Mirror Meditation. I was literally crushed being an ACON and facing another quest to find out “who I am” but this exercise was truly awakening and surprising. And authentic. Hugs!
THANK YOU! Thank you so much! I can’t wait to look into this.
Oh sister. This one knocked the air out of me. I think it may be a good thing, but I’ll have to get back to you on that note. Haven’t been around much it seems I’ve fallen in the black hole. I’m okay though, I’m climbing my way back out ever so slowly. I really hope things are back to normal and Randy is feeling better.
He is getting there…another minor(ish) setback that is more annoying than troubling, but he’s getting there, thank you for asking after him!
Sorry about your air 🙂 And just remember this..we are ALL DOING OUR BEST. Don’t be hard on yourself.
I haven’t done a lot of research on narcissism, but I’ve always assumed (and correct me if I’m wrong here) that narcissists always want it to be about them. That even when they help people, they don’t do it out of compassion, but because it makes them look good to others. That they want to be the center of attention. Does it always include lies, though? The reason I ask, is because your story made me wonder about my motives for blogging. If you asked, I would tell you I blog because it allows me to work through my past and present sxxx in a way that takes away the power those negative events had over me. It allows me to find the humor in something that was painful to me (my therapist sometimes thinks I’m making light of events so I don’t have to deal with the pain – but I do not agree. I’ve lived with the pain my whole life – I don’t want to associate pain with those events any longer). HOWEVER, I wonder if I also blog because I want the attention. I would be lying if I said I didn’t get a thrill when my stats are good or when people take the time and effort to comment on one of my posts – or to share my posts (that is an incredible rush!) So, is blogging associated with narcissistic behavior? You made me think, Michelle – and you know how I hate to think!
I blog for attention…we ALL want attention. All humans have some narcissism..that is the nature of humanity. It becomes an issue, though, when you can no longer see beyond yourself. When you have no capacity for empathy. You don’t care about other people and you will defend that you are right and perfect with your dying breath. YOU are not these things. What I’ve read is this: If you question whether or not you have narcissistic personality disorder, then you probably do not..one with NPD would never question whether or not something is wrong with them. xoxoxo
I needed this. I really needed it. I have picked up attitude and manipulation traits that my NMom does and always has done. I’m in a 3 year relationship and we have a son together, but I’ve noticed the longer we are together, the more I start doing and saying things my mom used to, to my dad, along with myself.
I notice it the second I do it which I guess separates the narcissistic parent from the child- at least, that’s what I like to tell myself- that I’m not her because I can recognize when I’m doing wrong
I’m working on it & I apologize a lot for it, which is also something I’ve been doing my entire life to please nmom.
It’s nice to know that I’m not alone in this everlasting inter all battle.
You rock.
Thank you.
-Lauren
Yes self forgiveness is a good thing. I have a habit of being pretty hard on myself, but I am getting better. 🙂
I am hard on myself as well. We’re all doing the best we can. XOXOXOXOXO