A Daughter’s Pain – a Mother’s Happiness: Growing up with a Jealous, Narcissistic Mother (as published in The Friday Edition of HeartBalm Healing at https://heartbalm.substack.com)
As an adult, you may look back at your childhood self and realize how ill-equipped, poorly protected, vulnerable, and deceived you were. You begin to see how betrayed, used, abused, and manipulated you were by a narcissistic parent. From the adult perspective rage, anger, anxiety, panic disorders, and even sadness and depression may show up in our lives as we become aware of our dysfunctional childhood or may arise in response to coming to terms with this troubling truth.
A narcissistic parent will generally choose a child of the same gender to scapegoat, gaslight, and employ as their object to terrorize. Narcissists see others as merely extensions of themselves, not as individuals or autonomous beings – therefore, their ability to use anything you do or do not do as ammunition against you is easy for them to justify. They believe that who you are, what you do, and how you act and relate to others is a direct reflection of them. They can be competitive with the child, ignore the child’s needs, become jealous and angry when the child innocently outshines the parent, and treat you well in public and around others but revert back to the insensitive, cruel narcissist behind closed doors – in short, the child can never win.
From a child’s perspective being pleasing and pleasing the parent is their instinctual guide, and only tool to sustain their survival – which sadly, is the perfect landscape for the narcissist to exploit. No matter what the child tries to do to appease the abuser, or in frustration throws a tantrum in opposition, and pure overwhelm the abusive parent will use all of it to make the child the “bad one,” and to punish the child further. Conversely, any achievements the child might have, outside adoration or praise, physical looks, beauty, likeability, popularity, or other positive attributes are also theirs, and as a result of them.
In the end, nothing is yours except for the pain, anger, and retribution that they decide is justified, and their right to take it out on you. For the daughters of narcissistic mothers, the unbelievable is endured and internalized.
Exploring the topic of jealous, and narcissistic mothers is complicated, and not always a space that is easy to open ourselves up to. For those that endured a toxic mother, we are left with the fallout of automated coping strategies that loosely served us as a child or teen but make managing adult life difficult. We are left with painful memories, repeating toxic narratives, and systemic familial betrayals and failures that are difficult to face and breathe in our waking moments. It is easier to put them aside and deal with them later, if at all. We can know some truths that bite internally; that ask us to move closer but the reality is this is a tough request to accommodate.
As you begin to qualify what happened by sieving through the everyday reactions and triggers that you now face, and the coping strategies, and extraordinary maneuvers you make in order to maintain your equilibrium, and adult existence you realize the extent of what you endured and ultimately survived. Now comes the work of understanding, releasing, allowing yourself to feel into your being, learning how to love yourself, and excavating your needs, wants, desires, and all that was buried so long ago for the sake of a jealous and narcissistic mother.
This may ring out as a taboo topic but for so many this needs to be heard, aired out, understood, and allowed into the conversation on healing. It needs to be held and felt and no longer minimized! For many growing up with an anti-mother – one who is unable to nurture, to show healthy love and affection, whose parenting style is that of taking rather than giving, of destruction rather than creation – the topic is hidden and rarely discussed. This kind of toxic parent-to-child arrangement creates the Helen Kellers of CPTSD – unable to speak, hear, see, or understand the world around us. Hoping for someone to find and help us, teach us about love – show us what tenderness, safety, understanding, and compassion feel like. Allow us a chance to exhume, understand and make sense of what has transpired, and been hidden like our unmet needs and wants, our own unique and brilliant personality and being, and bring light to our eyes, ears, and hearts, and balm to our shattered being.
For so many that have endured this hellscape and survived finding safe harbor in others that have also lived through similar horrors of childhood, and realizing that there are answers and that you are not alone is so helpful. I want to honor all those that find solidarity and healing in the understanding, hurts, and pains of this kind of lived path. After writing many poems on the subject of narcissist mothers, and going more in-depth here to expand further on this subject I can honestly say I feel lighter and more free from my toxic benefactor, and more easily able to let her go, as well as her enablers and all of the old barbs stuck throughout my body and being that triggered me for so long. I want my freedom, and the ability to walk this earth each day without being haunted by old stories, and voices, feeling under attack or readying for imminent assault, or having anyone else taking up space in my mind, body, heart, and soul.
It is a tragedy when a mother finds happiness, and relief in the anger, fear, and pain she passes on and creates in her daughter.
If you have endured and survived a narcissistic mother or caregiver, I invite you to open the door to your freedom and expand your heart and mind with the intention of pulling yourself close and placing yourself on a pedestal of priority, importance, and deserving.
Daughters of narcissistic mothers go through a grieving process. This is a part of the healing process. We only get one mother, and it is a huge loss accepting that the mother we had was not able to be the mother we hoped for or needed.
I invite you to put yourself first in the process of taking back your individuality, embracing your authentic nature, and independent spirit, and begin to habituate and prioritize your own self-loving, self-nurturing, self-caring, and self-compassionate actions. This is a way to bring solace, consideration, kindness, and nurturing to yourself in a way that ushers in freedom from the past, a release and letting go of the pain, shame, and nonsensical experiences you faced and lived through.
I also invite you to write poetry or free verse, or journal about your experience, and what you endured. You may also consider writing an honest and no-holds-barred letter to your toxic benefactor(s), parent(s), or caregiver(s), and then burn or shred them with glee, relief, mercy, and ceremony.
I offer a poem here that I hope will inspire your own sacred voice and healing journey, bring resonance to your heart, a kindred voice, comfort, and words that resound loudly that “You are not alone!”
She would rather see me in pain,
reeling from heartache, loss, and failure
instead of happy, fulfilled, loved,
and on the precipice
of a hopeful
and abundant future.
Her pain,
her past stories
of her own trauma
clouding her heart
and love for me –
her own daughter.
She saw in me
what was taken from her.
She saw possibility in my world
in a way
that she could not see
in her own.
She could not bear the thought
of me having what she could not.
Freedom, abundance, beauty,
love, and kindness –
these things I may have had,
revealed, possessed,
or been given
at some early time in my life
but each one was ripped away,
broken, taken,
and thrown away like trash.
My pain her happiness –
transferred from biological mother
to innocent child.
She had given birth to the one
that could bear her pain,
the one
that she could torture
and shame,
and treat like dirt –
all the while watching
my tears, suffering, and agony
with a glee, and a relief
that I did not understand.
Her pain now living
in someone outside of her –
in front of her eyes,
and not ruining,
or taunting her
anymore.
What a wonderful plan
she had for herself
but never for me.
I learned to live in lack.
Learned to expect little,
and give everything.
All for her empty,
and voracious soul –
hungry to have
or destroy what she thought
I was given and she was not.
The unfairness of life
to give an innocent daughter
to a starving,
and traumatized mother.
She gave me her scorn,
her hatred,
her generational trauma,
and familial unfairness,
and saw me as the enemy
to be destroyed.
Yet, my heart still beats,
my lungs breathe,
and I am still here.
I Am.
So, I continue.
Finding understanding, patience,
love,
and breath as the way
to come alive each day –
for myself and those I love.
For the world,
and all that I love and hold dear.
There is no other answer for me –
no other reason to try
and change the past, fix
or figure it out,
or ponder the reasons
why me – yet
there is only ever this moment
and an infinite sky that says
I am here,
and I am not going anywhere.
The endless guiding brilliance,
and shining of the sun,
the stars ages and years away
sparkling on,
and the arc of life
outside my door in every plant,
tree, bird, bee, dandelion,
and deer that I see
tell me what is real,
and show me what is vital.
Her jealousy, rage,
and ignorance all hers now.
Gifted to me
as a nuclear bomb
but now a box of blessings,
light, grace, and the will
to keep moving forward.
There is nothing else but choosing –
choosing to accept, allow and be –
to keep moving forward
in the midst of pain, and agony.
All of it
part of life.
All of it
reminding me what love is,
and is not.
All of it
part of the process
that is a part of me,
and my unfolding,
and evolving journey.
_Sunny Lynn, OMC, HeartBalm
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Sunny Lynn, OMC is a spiritual counselor, writer, poet, photographer, meditator, and nature lover on a mission of transmuting complex trauma through self-love, healing, and bringing balm to hearts everywhere. She has a blog and podcast – HeartBalm at heartbalm.substack.com that speaks on the topic of self-care and self-love, mindfulness and healing while living with CPTSD.
Dear Team
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I’m broken, lost and as of right now, going nowhere and exactly where she wants me…. I’m 44 and have wasted a very promising life completely unaware until about 2 years ago that my mother purposefully ruined my chance of a fulfilling life. 2 separate comments almost 3 years ago made me start to realize what was really going on and what she had done to me, which caused me to become estranged and let me be able to see with more.clarity the true reality of my life but still had no idea what to call it until it slapped me in the face that I’m the daughter of a jealous mother, which I googled those words and was immediately directed here and now I have the words to describe my life up to this point. I was thrown to the wolves and made to fend for myself since childhood and I’ll eventually figure it all out, it’s what I do but I have an amazing 20 yr old daughter who is badly struggling because I’m struggling and it’s killing me because she deserves the world and I can’t give it to her because I can’t find it myself but I do now have an understanding and at least somewhere to start to try to heal us both. Thank you!! Your poem put my life in the words I’ve been desperately searching for just to understand it myself, finally! Again, thank you!
Dear lady….your story felt like my own as I read your response. Your broken heart and tattered life, your shock, horror, resolution, your age and your daughter and your pain multiplying infinitely with the agony of her pain. I felt every single word. I hope you and your precious daughter are finding peace and some joy from the disgusting things heaved upon both of your innocent souls by a monster in the cleverest of disguses. Momma…monster.
Love your girl and know with every minute that you do, that you encompass everything that your own mother never has or will and nothing that she tried to infest you with.
You love your girl. Your mother doesn’t get to take that. Ever. She can’t.
I also can relate to you. I was left to sink or swim since my earliest years and having to try to make sense of various painful events alone where it seems that the typical response of a parent would be to listen and answer questions and comfort the child. At some point I decided to just make my way and create a life I wanted which I did. I achieved a number of goals without so much as a notice from my mother. Then in my midlife, she decided that I should be there for her rather than do my work or raise my children. It was then that she began to attack my identity. She accused me of being abusive towards her and several other very hurtful things that cut me to my core. Most children want a relationship with their parents and try hard to get one. My mother told people how I didn’t come see her and didn’t care about her. She threatened my custody of my children. She called businesses in competition with mine and said that I was dishonest etc. I have been a wreck ever since and unable to get back to living. all of my relationships have been effected. I can feel myself getting further and further from the life i once knew. I’m devastated.
Hi! I just googled jealous mother’s and found this. I’m also in my late 40s and realized only too late. I am the scapegoat, and on a daily basis I see a sigh of relief when she gets me to the point of tears. There is no escape bec I live with her. She gossips constantly about me and the minute a family member calls me on my phone she is so unhappy. These examples are minor compared to what is really going on.i don’t know what to do. This is so incredibly sad. She wants me in pain and only then I see satisfaction on her face. She knows no boundaries and is all over me, even reads journals
Hey Sunny!
For someone who has been writing since childhood, Writing just doesn’t seem like it’s the best outlet for me. Having any sort of platform to write on, quickly becomes something obsessive, whereby I’d be constantly changing things, restructuring, anytime my thoughts change ..sometimes I’d give up. All that time and energy for nothing.. sometimes nobody even takes notice which tbh doesn’t bother me much anymore. WordPress, quora, youtube, Instagram, Pinterest etc. all got deleted. I currently only use quora but it’s also currently deactivated.
I’ve deleted everything I’ve ever written in my clipboard app on my phone which I’ve had few years now. Over the last 3 years I’ve thrown away about a small storage cupboard’s worth of paper, some from blank books that had really pretty covers sadly because it just didn’t seem to make sense after a while!
The things I’ve been using to help me to start connecting with myself and pain I’ve probably been unaware of, aren’t always necessarily “glamorous”..Some actually disturbed me at the start like how I shaved most of my hair off inspite of so much time I invested in trying to grow it! Its like I’m venturing into a look that might seem “crazy” (probably isn’t) but it’s like I’m pushing myself to certain discomfort limits to see how far I can go or if someone will say “hey what the hell is going on?!” ???????????? because of fears of what others think..
Don’t know how much of what I’ve written has made sense. I think it’s taken almost 2 hours..
It does always help to have other survivors who are great writers be able to communicate their story to others so clearly .
How to recover from “therapy”? I’m over 60, no therapist ever believed me about my jealous mom and her helpers. Their actions were criminal. I lost my career.
Beautifully and painfully written. The punishment for your failures, the jealousy at your successes, the secrecy of the abuse and the glee at your subsequent humiliation create no viable paths to joy. I’m 62. Two failed marriages. I simply survive. She’s 83