“Dad, when do you want to get together for Christmas? Does Christmas afternoon work for you?”
“Well, I’m leaving town Christmas morning. I have that whole next week off. I’m sure your brother just wants to do a quick visit where I bring presents and we only chat for an hour, but I’d like it to be a longer visit. When are you coming to town.”
“We’ll be in town on Christmas Day and most of the week after.”
“That doesn’t work for me.”
In hind sight, the choice was a no-brainer. Of course any sane person would choose safety over money. But, dammit, one more hit from the narcissist and I was starting to lose my sanity.
We’d given him official notice that we were moving – six weeks in advance of the move date. Prior to our little family meeting where we delivered the news, he had expressed his suspicions – to the kids – about a pending move. He wasn’t surprised.
I was the one who was surprised.
The week before our move, in an uncharacteristic one-line email, he informed me that he was lessening his financial support of the kids. I could almost hear him saying, “Take that for moving. Take that for taking my source. Take that for going on to live a happy life without me.”
I did not reply to his email. I have not spoken to him or written to him since before we moved. Continue reading →
Toddlers are not easy to control. They are messy, busy, loud and curious. If the narcissist expects a toddler to be some sort of positive reflection of the image he’s trying to portray, he’ll have his work cut out for him.
That doesn’t mean the narcissist won’t try to get his toddler to be a perfect reflection of him.
She had come to terms with the fact that she would be parenting on her own. He had even said that everything having to do with the child was “her domain.” At first, she felt alone and resentful. She hadn’t signed up to do this all by herself. As time went on, though, she was too busy to feel any resentment. Besides, she rather liked focusing all her energies on the child. The interactions were joyful – something she hadn’t felt with the narcissist since the beginning.
But, as one might expect, the more she focused on the child, the angrier the narcissist became. When a narcissist is angry, he attempts to control. Continue reading →
She grew up watching her mom sweep everything under the rug. Her mom grew up watching her mom sweep everything under the rug. It was what they did. Their hurts, disappointments, frustrations and expectations all went under the rug.
In the beginning, only the big stuff made it under the rug – the aunt’s DUI, the brother’s marital transgressions, the grandfather’s financial mess. (There were some things under the rug that are too big to mention here – like the time her husband back-handed her.) But, as time went on, she found it easier to sweep even the little things under the rug. Disappointments fit under there nicely, thereby preventing an inevitable argument if she dared to mention those disappointments.
When the kids were younger, it wasn’t an issue. They didn’t notice her lifting the corner of the rug several times a week, and if they did, they thought it was normal. The difficulty came when the kids got old enough to notice. They couldn’t help but trip over the heap under the rug. They’d hear dad’s harsh words, see mom grab the broom, and they just knew she’d reach for the corner of the rug.
Recently she’d come home with a new, much larger rug to accommodate the pile. She moved the old rug to her daughter’s room. The colors in the rug worked well with the colors in her daughter’s duvet. That’s how she would justify the purchase of the larger rug.
She never took the time to explain to the kids why she hid things. Better to leave it alone than open up that can of worms and have to deal with all the issues heaped under the rug. The kids got to the point where they pretended not to notice. They’d look the other way when mom reached for the broom. Continue reading →
Controllers aren’t always* aware that their actions leave lasting scars on those they are controlling. The controller is so focused on his desperate attempts at micromanaging his universe that he can’t see the destruction left in his wake.
The Controlled Wife
It’s a wonder she hasn’t been scooped up by Hollywood. Her efforts at applying makeup are Oscar-worthy. Because her husband appears to find joy in criticizing her appearance, her skillful makeup application has become an attempt at defending herself from further jabs. But, trying to please a husband who cannot be pleased is an exercise in futility.
Perhaps more importantly, her artistic way with cosmetics gives her a measure of control over her own existence. In this way, she has an area of her life that is free from his manipulations. It’s behind the safety of the locked bathroom door that she is finally able to breathe. She’s gotten fast with the application, so as to spare herself from his complaints about the amount of time she spends in the bathroom. The downfall of her obsession with cosmetics is that further anxiety is created by her need to hide any purchases from the controller. Continue reading →
School’s out for summer! The bell rang at 10:48 this morning.
Will and I discussed the last of his papers, and that marked the end for him. Jen finished last Wednesday after getting an A on her math final.
And so we are done for another year.
Whew!
Today I’m going to be a narcissist. I’m going to put myself first.
I need to get something done – for me. In order to do that, I need to put all your stuff aside.
You know I love you. Right? And all day long, while I’m making myself a priority, I’ll still be loving you. But – just for today – I need to make some progress on my* list.
“Okay you guys. What do you think? Any red flags? Let me have it.” (I’m not sure I can trust myself to see things clearly.)
Kids are like pets. They know who to steer clear of and who to trust – instinctively. Come to think of it, adults probably have those same instincts, but they long ago stopped listening to them – or at least I did.
Will laughed and immediately said, “No! No red flags. You’re kidding, right? Why?” Jen smiled and shook her head.
“Come on Jen, are you holding back? You can tell me. It’s okay.”
“No, mom, really. I don’t see anything.” Continue reading →
Dear Experts in Childhood Development,
I am divorced from my children’s father. You’ve told me over and over again that I’m not supposed to bad-mouth their father – especially to my kids. You have told me that if I do so, I’m also hurting my kids.
You also give me advice on how to handle bullies. I’ve learned that we are supposed to have open discussions at home about bullies and bullying behavior. You’ve said that in order to prevent bullying, we have to talk about it and call it what it is. You tell me that these conversations must happen in order to make the world a safer place for kids.
My kids’ dad is a bully – he’s a narcissistic bully – and yet you tell me I can’t call him any names.
I’m confused.
You encourage me to call the bullying kid on the playground a bully, but I’m not supposed to call their dad a disparaging name. Isn’t that a contradiction? Isn’t that creating more confusion around the whole issue of bullying. Continue reading →
Becoming a parent changes you. There is no way to know who you will be as a parent, until you become a parent. Your partner changes, too, in many unexpected ways.
It is dangerous to make assumptions based on love and affection. Even so, she made plenty of assumptions that would prove to be her undoing.
She had assumed that her partner would make parenting a priority. Even if he had avoided playing an active role in the pregnancy, he’d have to make parenting a priority. Wouldn’t he? How could she marry someone who wouldn’t make parenting a priority? She figured that was a given, so she didn’t have those important conversations beforehand. She didn’t ask, “Will you juggle your time to make kids a priority? Will you cut back on recreation to help out, knowing that it won’t be long before we can all go as a family? Will you delegate at work so as to create more time for home? Will we parent as a team? Will you change diapers? Are you okay with breastfeeding? Do you refer to it as ‘babysitting’ when you have the kids with you?”
She avoided those conversations – maybe because she knew the answers and didn’t want to admit it. INFJs avoid conflict. Continue reading →
“How’d you sleep?” I set my coffee down to get up and start her chocolate milk.
“Good. How ’bout you?” She curls up in her corner of the couch and Nina saunters over to take her share of the blanket.
I start heating the milk and then walk into the living room. “Any dreams?”
“No. You?”
“Yeah. I’ll tell ya when Will’s up.” At this point, I walk back into the kitchen. She’s an introvert like I am. I know she needs quiet and time to ease in in the morning. Continue reading →
This wasn’t the plan – to be a single mom in my 50s, raising kids by myself.
I had planned to be happily married at this point. I thought we’d all ski together and travel together and watch movies together. I thought he and I would marvel at how brilliant our kids are – together.
I thought we’d laugh at being older-than-the average parents of young kids – together.
I thought we’d reconnect after the kids were gone and spend our retirement years skiing, traveling and watching movies – just the two of us.
“It’s about him, honey.”
“But I feel sorry for him. He’s all by himself on Thanksgiving. How come he didn’t call us?”
“Well, he made a series of choices that brought him to the point where he’s alone on Thanksgiving. I understand that you feel sorry for him. You’ve got the kindest heart. Don’t let feeling sorry for him make you feel guilty – like there’s something you’re supposed to do about the situation. A good dad calls his kids on Thanksgiving.”
Will chimes in, “You guys know why he didn’t call, don’t ya? He didn’t call because I wouldn’t change my plans on Thanksgiving to do what he wanted me to do.”
“Yes, so now you’re both being punished with the silent treatment.” Continue reading →
“How much do I tell them? How do I help my kids with their narcissistic mom, without running their mom down and making them feel worse? What’s the right thing to do?”
The bartender dries a wineglass and hangs it from the rack above his head. “That’s a tough one. It depends on the ages of your kids. It depends on how close they are to their mom. It depends on whether they have a support network besides you. It depends on a lot of things.” The bartender heads to the end of the bar to take an order. When he returns he says, “See that kid at the end of the bar?”
“The one who looks like he’s crying in his beer? Is he all of 22?”
“That’s the one. I knew his folks. They brought out the worst in each other, and it spilled over onto their kids. The mom could manipulate anybody and the dad let it happen. Not much he could do about it, really. She was good. But instead of sticking up for his kids or defending them from her tactics, he let them fend for themselves. Now look at the kid.”
“He looks like he’s mad at the world.” Continue reading →
His eyes roll as his hand makes the universal symbol for “one who talks too much.” He paces the floor and occasionally says, “Uh huh.”
My teenage son is on the phone with his narcissistic father.
He will listen anywhere from 20 to 35 minutes. He’ll hear about his dad’s work issues, car issues, and plans for skiing and fishing trips. He’ll learn of his dad’s ailments, frustrations, and current obsessions. He’ll discover what his dad watches on TV, what his dad is reading, and whether he has mastered his new cell phone.
The son will be asked if his ski gear still fits. He’ll be told that his father has been shopping for him. The son will cringe and give me a look that says, “Here we go again.”
