Being Mothered by A Narcissist
Made me a better mother, eventually
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Being raised by a narcissistic mother stunted my growth as a woman. I didn’t learn the nurturing skills that other women learn from their moms. I realized when I was very young that my mother was not like other women.
My mother
She was cold and calculating. She would make a cutting remark to someone with a smug look of satisfaction on her face and then pretend she hadn’t meant to say it. She would buddy up to some poor, unsuspecting woman and then demean her to the next woman she spoke with. She cycled through all the women at church, friends becoming enemies, and then friends again. At one point we even changed churches. She had probably been uncovered for what she was and had to move on.
I don’t remember her hugging me, ever. The only time she touched me was when she brushed my hair. It felt like I was being punished when she missed my scalp and got my forehead and ears with the brush. She would make my ponytails so tight I usually had a headache by afternoon. I always wondered why she had us if it was such a burden to care for us.
I watched everything she did and made mental notes of how not to be a mother. I didn’t want my children to suffer and feel unloved. I thought if I did most things the opposite of how she did them my children would be alright.
Growing into motherhood
I struggled to tell my husband and child, “I love you.” I had to remind myself to say it until it was a habit. Now, I have no difficulty saying those three beautiful words to my family or friends. I do have a difficult time believing I am lovable and will always struggle against being raised in an unloving environment.
I was never hugged or even touched by my mother so I didn’t learn how to touch my own children. I was nervous that I wouldn’t be able to hold and cuddle my children or even want to. When my first baby was born my worries were over. I loved holding my little ones and nurturing them. I think having children helped me heal from my cold upbringing.
My mother only called me by my name when she wanted something from me or when I was in trouble so I learned to hate being called by my name. I avoid using other people’s names when I talk to them. I am surprised that I did use my children’s names. I was careful not to say their names in the snearing way my mother said mine. I think they all like their names and don’t have an aversion to using other people’s names.
If I didn’t do my chores perfectly I would be made to do them over or keep trying until I had done the job as well as my mom could make me do it. I never did anything to her standard and she would make a point of saying it could have been done a little better. Because of this I was too lenient with my children when they did their chores. I also let them get away with not doing what they were supposed to do. I didn’t want to be like my mom or make my children feel that they never did anything properly.
Healing as a woman
I didn’t even want to be a mom because I was afraid I would turn into my mother. There were many years where I thought I had become her. When I went no-contact with her I began to heal and realized I was nothing like her. The further I get from her emotionally the better I feel about myself and the more I grow as a woman.
My children’s journey
Sadly, my own children have a narcissistic father as a parent. Even if I was a perfect mother I would never be able to undo the damage he does. I have read that if children have one healthy parent they have a chance to become healthy adults. I pray it is not too late for my little ones when I look at my older children being twisted into something they are not by their father.
I can only lead the children who will follow me to a healthier future.
