Through tears she asked, “How come he says other kids do things well, but he can’t say that about me? How come he doesn’t think I’m great? What do I have to do to get him to say those things about me?”
Will turned to me and said, “Mom, you have to call him. Tell him! Tell him he needs to say that stuff about Jenny. Tell him it hurts Jen’s feelings when he brags about other kids and doesn’t talk about what Jen does. Call him!”
I asked Will to hand Jenny a kleenex.
“Honey, I can call your dad if that’s what you want. I can talk to him about this – again. If you think that will help you to feel better, I’ll do it.”
She wiped her tears and said, “It never does any good. It never makes a difference. He won’t change. He doesn’t hear us. What’s the point?”
Will added, “You’re right, Jen. If mom calls him, he won’t believe her. He’ll act all mopey like he usually does. That’ll make this worse.”
In my softest voice, I asked, “Jenny, Honey, what can we do to help you feel better?”
She shrugged her shoulders.
She needed to cry.
She needed to feel miserable.
She needed to say, out loud, “He doesn’t love me. What’s wrong with me?”
We sat on the couch. Jenny leaned against me and Will was wringing his hands, trying to think of something he could do to help. Pretty soon, Nina walked in and jumped up next to us and sniffed Jen’s face.
Nina’s sweet face melted the moment. Her purring changed the subject. Her presence lightened the mood.
__________
The next morning finds me desperately trying to think of something – anything – to help Jenny understand that this is not about her. I want to explain that she has done nothing wrong. I want to convince her of her brilliance and talent and specialness.
But, I’m her mom.
Of course she can expect me to say those things.
She needs to hear them from her dad, too.
As I was rinsing conditioner out of my hair in the shower, I saw this image of Mark wearing funky, dark glasses. The inside of the half lenses were mirrored, and he wore them low on his nose while he swaggered and charmed his way through his day.
What narcissist wouldn’t love a pair of glasses that let them stare at their own reflection all day?
I couldn’t wait to tell the kids what I’d come up with. I was sure it might help, in some small way.
We sat down in the living room where we start each day with reading. Before I dove into our current book, I told them what I’d come up with.
“You guys! I had a thought. It’s like your dad walks around wearing glasses all the time – only these glasses are special. (Picture something Johnny Depp would wear in a Tim Burton movie.) They slide down your dad’s nose a bit. The lenses are mirrored on the inside. All day long your dad can stare at himself. Once in awhile, he looks over the top of the glasses, but when he does, he’s still looking for situations or people or things that reflect well on him. He’s looking for stuff that is about him.
He can’t see you.
He can’t understand how you feel.
No matter how fabulous you are, if your dad can’t see that, he can’t acknowledge that.
You cannot change that.”
At this point, they wanted to think a bit. They wanted to process a bit. They weren’t convinced.
…
So I opened up the book and started where we left off.
That morning’s chapter could not have been more serendipitous.
Merlin and his sister, Rhia, were about to confront their father. They both knew of their father’s evilness. They both knew they could do nothing to change him. They both desperately wanted their father to see them and love them and be the man they could be proud of.
Rhia made a grand gesture of symbolically offering her father one more chance – a gift (the Orb of Fire) that could heal a broken spirit.
The father destroyed the gift and its magical qualities, and deserted his children – once again.
Merlin turned to Rhia and said, “To heal that man would take more magic than the Orb ever had.”
I looked up at Jen and Will. We were all struck by the sheer freakiness that this was the chapter we read at that very moment – the moment when we needed it the most.
In a way I couldn’t, this story showed Jen and Will that kids can survive a crappy parent.
Plenty of otherwise fabulous children are not seen by their dad.
Amazing, powerful, talented, gifted, smart, competent, even magical kids may be dismissed by their parent.
Those kids turn out just fine.
Tags: child of narcissist, life, love, narcissism, narcissist behavior, narcissistic behavior, NPD, Parenting, proactive
They will be okay, they are okay. <3 Someday they will understand a little better.
I got through my Dad’s narcissism, and so did my brother and sister, and we are all fine. We survived things like my Dad writing an autobiographical article for the newspaper about his life (like many N’s, he is highly successful), and in the last sentence he mentioned that he “had one daughter,” our stepsister. Forgotten birthdays, no calls on holidays. I have a degree in theater and was very active in it in jr. & sr. high as well, and my Dad has never seen me act. He failed to do things, and managed to say things to us, that, as a mother I cannot IMAGINE doing/not doing or saying to my precious kids. I completely empathize with what you are all going through right now. It’s so so frustrating, because how could he not see these unique, precious, special people that he is lucky enough to father? I know….
But, in the end, I think it makes you perhaps even more empathetic, caring, & supportive, because you know how bad it hurts when someone doesn’t do that for you.
And besides, they do have an amazing role model that lifts them up, meets their emotional needs, and loves them unconditionally. So, I **know** (even though we’ve never met!) beyond a shadow of a doubt, they will not only be okay. they will be stronger & kinder for it.
hugs, NM
NM,
Hearing another survivor say, “I know,” can make all the difference.
I see where you get your kindness and compassion.
Thank you. ;)
NM, thank you from me too! I do worry about my kids so much. My oldest has residual damage and my youngest is struggling to understand it. I hope that I can give them the support they need to be at peace with themselves after so much criticism. But you gave me hope today. Thanks again.
I’m glad that it helped you, Zaira. The good news is that all your kids are learning through your actions & information you give them how to deal with a narcissist. I didn’t even learn about narcissism until all this stuff fell apart with my friend in January. I only wish I would have understood at a younger age, what Jesse said. That my Dad really wasn’t capable of seeing me, of caring for me the way I wanted. That it wasn’t about me or some shortcoming on my part. At least for me, once I understood narcissism, it was a lot easier to understand my Dad and not to take it personally. You are empowering your kids with an arsenal of tools to deal with the problem they are faced with. And that’s the best gift of all.
hugs, NM
You are doing all the right things. Will and Jenny are amazing, perceptive young people and they are going to make better informed choices about their lives because of you (and unfortunately, because of his behavior). Thank God you all got out!
Dee,
Yes, I am grateful – every single day – for getting out when we did.
I have never once regretted that decision – not even on the toughest, loneliest, hardest days.
These comments are all very encouraging. Thank you everyone! I pray for my kids for this mess to be redeemed in a way that helps them in their lives.
It really strikes me, too, how my ex cannot see how beautiful and special our kids are. I guess it is because he can only see himself.
My best to all of you and your kids–they are the gifts we cherish from these very painful relationships/marriages.