Is my mum a narcissist? It’s a question I found myself Googling after seeing the image in this post. It was the first time I saw words that summed my mother up and her behaviour perfectly. Could she really be a narcissist?
The word narcissist has become quite popular, but ten years ago it was not a term I knew anything about. My first awareness of it was in relation to romantic relationships where there was an abuse of power and the use of manipulation. I’d stumble across articles detailing the ways in which an ex would seemingly control their partner through an abundance of charm (to start with), but once trust was gained, that behaviour turned to the belittling and isolating of those they claim to love. While those topics were focused on romantic partners, there was something that felt strangely familiar.
Is my mum a narcissist?
I was stopped in my tracks the day I saw the image in this post. I was on instagram, mindlessly scrolling, when I came across this text focussing on narcissistic mothers. I could not believe what I was reading. Every single line could have been written about own mum. I took a screen shot and sent it straight to my brother. “Don’t you think this sounds like mum?”.
I have since read a lot about narcissism and have had many years of therapy. With that in mind I can confidently say that yes, my mum was a narcissist.
Narcissistic mothers
One minute, my mum would claim how important I was to her, while the next she would be screaming at me about all the things I had done wrong, how I had ruined her life and what a bitch I was. Alongside that, she seemed to hate seeing me ‘do well’ and be happy. She would sabotage moments that should have been happy occasions for me and seemed to hate me having a life of my own.
If I were to sum up her sabotage tactics, I’d say she would…
Lie about me, essentially creating a smear campaign against me.
Lie about her health, which became very confusing when there became times where she was genuinely suffering.
Make me feel so guilty about having my own thing that didn’t include her, I would end up cancelling whatever it was she saw as a threat to just be with her.
“I felt a huge shame and guilt in having these feelings about my own mum, especially when others would tell me how wonderful she was. It was like she was two people.”
The theme tended to be, if it's not about me then I'm not happy and you better make it about me or else. I can say all of this now in hindsight and having spent many years talking to a therapist.
Finding this first image of what a narcissist mother could look like, was the start of me exploring narcissism and what it meant to have a narcissistic parent. It felt as though I finally had the answer to a question I couldn't even articulate. All I knew was that my relationship with my mum was ‘not right’. It felt toxic, draining and would leave me deeply depressed.
I felt a huge shame and guilt in having these feelings about my own mum, especially when others would tell me how wonderful she was. It was like she was two people. It felt as though she didn’t like me, mainly because I was not like her. I started to believe she simply hated me.
The importance of race in my story
It wouldn't be reflective of my whole story if I didn’t also share how race played into this. My mum was White, English and she married my dad who was Black, Ghanaian (he passed away when I was five-years-old). I am mixed-race and visibly so. Anytime my mum was in one of those moods where I could do no right, my appearance and race were attacked. She’d critiqued how I looked and coupled that with how those were Black features of mine. Not only did her words make me feel ‘fat’ and ‘ugly’, she made me feel beneath her and othered because of my heritage.
For your own mum to do that is beyond painful and confusing. However, as was her way, she would happily boast to others about her Black husband and how much she loved both Black culture and her mixed-race babies. She proudly told me how she had always wanted ‘brown babies’, while simultaneously treating me like her worst enemy.
“It wasn’t that bad”
As I share my truth I'm overcome with guilt, because she has died and I do love her. I still wish she was here despite it all. To love your abuser is extremely complicated and agonising.
‘Don’t speak ill of the dead’ is a phrase that keeps haunting me. I recently shared this with my therapist who responded with “I really don't like that phrase, you’re not speaking ill of the dead, you're speaking the truth of the dead”.
I’m also filled with guilt in speaking my truth, because I know she ‘wasn’t all bad’. There were happier moments and times when she did celebrate my Blackness, however those moments were few and far between. I also know that the sentiment - not that bad - came from her mouth anytime I called her out on her behaviour. It was a phrase she used throughout my childhood, anytime I was upset about how she had treated me or what she had said to me. “Oh Chloe, you’re too sensitive, it wasn’t that bad”. No matter what happened or how awful she was to me, I’d somehow end up crying and apologising to her.
In terms of being Black, I want to believe I've misunderstood her in this area, but is that just self-preservation on my part? Am I wrong to share the link she made between the colour of my skin and traits of mine she viewed as negative?
Then, there are the times that she seemed to go out of her way to help others. How could she be so thoughtful for strangers and not her own children? Was that just an act? Those who saw only the best of my mum would always describe her as having a ‘big heart’. A big heart that seemed to have no love for me in it.
Why do I share all of this?
I share this because I want everyone to know how awful it is to have a narcissistic mother. Being raised by a narcissist is torture. While I can acknowledge the times that were pleasant and the people outside of our family who she did treat well, I know that the majority of my experience with my mum was pure hell. She was the biggest bully in my life, yet I loved her so much. She emotionally abused me and put me in situations I should never have been in. I carried so much guilt and shame over circumstances that I was not to blame for. That guilt and shame should have been hers, not mine. She projected and deflected that effortlessly onto her own child.
“Becoming a mother made the behaviour of my own mum even worse.”
The word narcissist is not a trendy term to throw about, especially when talking about someone who is being selfish. A true narcissistic is more than selfish. They are brutal, relentless and lack all empathy for anyone other than themselves. I've also heard people use the expression “I’m such a narcissist” in the context of being proud of an achievement or having some me-time. For me, those are all very different things and not narcissism.
Mum and daughter best friends
There is a strong notion in society centred around mothers and daughters being best friends. An idea that suggests the mother and daughter bond is sacred and filled with nothing but love and friendship - the pinnacle of a healthy relationship. I've had numerous conversations with strangers implying this, along with some assuming I must have such wonderful support from my own mum since becoming a mother myself. Nope! Becoming a mother made the behaviour of my own mum even worse. On a positive note, becoming a mother also made me realise once and for all how distressing my upbringing had really been.
The idea of being ‘best friends’ with your mum, makes my experience even more painful. I would have given anything to have that kind of relationship with her, and is probably one of the reasons why I kept trying and trying and trying to please her. All in the hope that one day she would love me and we’d be ‘best friends’.
What I’ve learnt about narcissism
Narcissists want every situation and conversation to be about them.
They will use a broad range of tactics to get what they want and to make sure they are the centre of attention.
They lack empathy, even when it comes to their own children and grandchildren.
They set very high standards for others, but most of the time don’t follow suit in their own lives.
Underneath the bravado they are extremely insecure individuals who crave attention and are constantly seeking validation.
They think they are amazing.
If something goes wrong, they are the victim and everyone else is to blame.
If you call them out on their behaviour, they will do whatever they feel necessary to bring you back in line. When they feel like that is failing they will go into a rage.
How do you have a relationship with a narcissist?
I wish I had a clear and concise answer for you. Every situation and person is different. When I was looking for answers to this question for my own situation, I came across the following pieces of advice over and over again. I’ve summarised the tips that stood out for me. If you can relate to my experience, I hope you find them helpful, but please do remember that I'm not a qualified specialist in this field.
Grey rock: This is a communication style which involves you sharing as little as possible, or nothing at all, about yourself and your life. You become a ‘grey rock’ so to speak. The idea is that if you become less interesting, less of a focus, then the narcissist will leave you alone. You’re essentially providing them with no ammunition to attack you. Plus, in conversations, narcissists tend to just talk about themselves. So it’s surprising easy to do!
Yellow rock: This is similar to the above, but more of a modified version. You share a little, you share enough so that they are not suspicious that you’re retreating from them, but you keep a lot private. You remain polite, but boring! With the same aim that the narcissist will lose interest in causing you grief, and will instead just love focussing on themselves.
Boundaries: Having boundaries with a narcissist is vital. Boundaries protect you in many ways, but it can take some trial and error in discovering what those boundaries need to be.
For example, over the years I have moved houses and locations several times. At one stage I lived over two hours away from my mum. (Also another good tip in managing a relationship with a narcissist - move away from them!) It seemed obvious to have her stay the night, or several, whenever she would visit. Those visits were awful and at night was when she was the most nasty to me. Eventually I said enough is enough. I created the boundary that she could visit, but she was no longer welcome to stay over. To my surprise she agreed to it without any arguing, which is very interesting in itself…
Other boundaries didn’t go down as well, and did face some resistance from her, but I stuck to the boundary I set nevertheless. Eventually she stopped fighting and those first few boundaries made the biggest difference. They helped me feel safe in her presence and, for a time, they kept her narcissistic rages at bay. Anytime things got bad again, I reflected on what had been happening and I would instil a new boundary.
At times, I found it overwhelming putting so many boundaries in place, but they really were so helpful. I probably found it overwhelming, because I discovered that I had never had a boundary in my entire life! It wasn’t until I started therapy that I learnt what a boundary was and how to set one. That was quite the epiphany moment when I realised that I had never been encouraged to say and act on what was right for me. I’d say yes to everything and everyone regardless of the impact it had for me. I believe this is common for children of narcissists, who tend to people pleasers. Thanks mum.Limit contact: If possible, reduce how often you see them or reduce the amount of time you see them for if having regular contact.
Self-care: The regular interaction with a narcissist is incredibly draining. Prioritise self-care in a way that feels right for you. That may be as simple as having a relaxing bath, especially after time spent with a narcissist, journaling to make sense of everything, or booking something that brings you joy - catch up with friends, a shopping trip, watching a film, whatever makes you smile.
Affirmations: These can be worth exploring, as a way to build yourself back up after a narcissist has torn you down. I have tried the following over the years. “I am not to blame”. “I am worthy of living a happy life”. This isn’t an area I’m very confident in, however when I’ve given this a go, I did find it helpful.
Talk to someone you can trust: Sharing your experience with someone close to you can really make the world of difference. I didn’t tell anyone what I was going through for a very long time and eventually I started to feel very physical side effects from the stress and the experience of it all. Share and talk about it if you can.
Let go of guilt and shame: You are not to blame for the actions of others, despite what they might desperately want you to believe.
No contact: This is a hard one for me to write about. When I first came across this idea it felt extreme and too radical for me. I could never imagine doing this, until I did. At the time it felt necessary for my survival to end contact with my mum. I couldn't see any other way forward and I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to be happy and enjoy life with my own family. Since her passing, I have regretted this decision, but that’s not to say I will forever. For those who are able to cut ties with the narcissist in their life, there are specialists who strongly recommend this option. When I had no contact, I did feel a lot happier in myself and other areas of my life seemed to improve drastically. However, I thought about my mum daily and always worried about her. There was nothing easy in cutting all ties with my own mum. At that time, it had felt as though I was grieving her, even though she was very much alive.
Thank you so much for reading about my experience and please comment and connect if this resonates with you in any way. I would love to hear all your thoughts and, if you feel comfortable to, please feel free to share more on your own experiences with narcissists or troubled mother and daughter relationships.
Chloe x
As another daughter of narcissistic mother, I deeply feel what you feel. I read it twice and all I can say is you are such an amazing woman, mother, friend and first of all yes you are an amazing daughter of a narcissist mother. We all deserve to be loved and respected. I met this feelings too late like you. Sending you lots of hugs xx
I honestly can’t relate to being around a narcissist myself but I do know what it feels like to be treated wrongly. Glad you are healing and brave enough to tell your story in such a beautiful way.
It only gets better from here! ❤️🩹🫂