Narcissists love the silent treatment. It’s their secret weapon when they want to manipulate and hurt in a big way. Using the silent treatment is a way to inflict pain without causing visible evidence.
Research shows that when we ignore or exclude someone, it activates the same part of their brain as physical pain does. Narcissists instinctively know that this manipulative technique is extremely hurtful. It’s traumatic to those it’s inflicted upon (Eisenberger et al. 2004).
Because I write about narcissistic mothers, I’ll note here that a narcissistic mother gets her sense of self through her children. She needs to protect her self-image and her reputation as a loving, caring mother, so her children are a necessary part of her identity. This is why the silent treatment is so meaningful to her. To a narcissistic mother, when she uses the silent treatment, it’s as if she’s cutting off a very displeasing part of herself and, at the same time, understands how painful it feels to the person she’s shunning. I’ve heard others remark that my mother was the kind of person who would cut off her nose to spite her face. Win at any cost, right?
The silent treatment is a punishment that consists of “hurt and rescue.” It can continue for months or even years and is often used to teach a lesson or to manipulate behavior (Eisenberger et al. 2004). For those of us who’ve been subjected to this form of abuse, it kept us anxious by triggering our fear of abandonment. (Saeed, K. 2019).
When I was seventeen, I endured my mother’s silent treatment for a little over three months. She had given me the silent treatment before, and she would again, but this instance lasted the longest. For the entire three months, I was met with stony silence any time I attempted to interact with her. She would not make eye contact with me. There was no acknowledgment that I existed whatsoever.
I broke our silent relationship now and again, testing to see if she would respond, and each time I was met with cold rejection. The message was loud and clear that she was not finished punishing me, and my attempts were not going to have an effect. It was as if I was invisible. I remember needing affirmation from others that they could see me and that I existed. I felt like I was heading into insanity.
One day, as mysteriously as the silent treatment had started, it ended. When my mother broke the silence and spoke to me, it was some little unimportant phrase that had no real significance, but it indicated the shunning was over.
I couldn’t figure out what I had done to offend or anger my mother, to cause her to take such extreme action as the silent treatment. I spent an excessive amount of time obsessing about it, replaying scenarios and conversations repeatedly, looking for the cause. I never found it, and of course, we never discussed what happened. If I was supposed to learn a lesson, I never knew what it was. Maybe the whole thing was nothing more than a show of power, meant to demoralize and unsettle me. It remains a mystery to this day.
When a person is actively ignored, it causes such psychological and emotional anguish that it can actually be seen on brain scans (Pune Mirror 2019). The silent treatment triggers a fear of abandonment, which is very frightening, but for children like me who’d already been abandoned by one parent, it is unbearable. I was obsessed with thoughts like, “Who will take care of me?” “Will I ever matter?” “Will I ever be safe?” “Will anyone ever love me?”
The fear of abandonment causes anxiety, worry, sleep loss, and inability to concentrate. Imagine trying to learn in school or study for tests while being actively ignored and rejected by a parent. With every silent treatment, we go deeper into survival mode, and we can experience panic attacks, appetite loss, binge-eating, racing heartbeat, nightmares, depression, confusion, and obsessive thinking. With each, we learn to focus more on our mother’s behavior and her needs. We learn to provide what she needs and wants because we fear we’ll be emotionally or physically abandoned again. The need to please and appease her becomes overblown.
A narcissistic mom understands that she’ll get away with rejecting and shunning because, as children, we have no choice but to welcome her back when she decides to return to our lives. We need her, after all, and she knows it. When she’s ready to acknowledge us again, we’re so happy, aren’t we?
The narcissistic mom likes knowing how hurt we are by her silent treatment. Our pain demonstrates to her that she is all-powerful and can devastate us if and when she chooses. It’s a great form of narcissistic supply.
Every time we go through the silent treatment, we’re diminished. Each time we endure active ignoring, we question our self-worth. Our self-esteem and self-image are further eroded, and our fear of abandonment escalates. Despite our accomplishments, acknowledgments, or friendships, we find ourselves desperate for our mother’s approval, which is, of course, always out of reach. We may come close, but we never quite make it.
We eventually accept that we aren’t worthy of her love or attention. We settle for any crumbs of affection or attention we can get from her. We learn that we’re somehow inferior and will never be able to please her, although we should continue trying.
This repeated process is called “trauma bonding” and is another example of the powerful emotional bonds created between abuser and abused. Over time, trauma bonds become very resistant to change, contributing to the development of a codependent relationship.
Conscious awareness: Be aware and make conscious choices before acting. Self-awareness releases us from making impulsive and potentially damaging decisions.
Self-care: We are in control of ourselves and no one is responsible for us but us. We can only choose to focus on and be responsible for ourselves, our own thoughts, actions, and behavior. We can change ourselves with patience, persistence, and practice. When we take responsibility for getting our needs met, instead of waiting for someone to change or meet our needs for us, we are healing.
More resources to guide you in healing from childhood trauma, abuse, or neglect. Available on Amazon and wherever books are sold. (ebook, audiobook, hardcover, and paperback.)
Like these posts? Want them automatically delivered to your inbox twice monthly?
As a result of growing up in a dysfunctional home, and with the help of professional therapists and continued personal growth, Diane Metcalf has developed strong coping skills and healing strategies. She happily shares those insights with others who want to learn.
Her books and articles are the result of her education, knowledge, personal growth, and insight regarding her childhood experiences and subsequent recovery work.
Diane holds a Master of Science degree in Information Technology and a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology. She has worked in numerous fields including domestic violence and abuse and is an experienced advocate, speaker, and writer about family dysfunction. Currently, she writes about recovery from narcissistic victim syndrome and symptoms of C-PTSD on The Toolbox and has authored three books in the “Lemon Moms” series. Visit her author’s website here.
She is no longer a practicing Social Worker, Counselor, Program Manager, or Advocate.
This website is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional therapy.
Narcissism is a personality disorder that’s diagnosed by qualified mental health practitioners. Narcissism often begins in childhood, and it occurs along a spectrum, meaning that for each individual, there are more and less severe forms of the disorder.
A study done in 2015, Narcissistic Personality Disorder: Diagnostic and Clinical Challenges, found that Grandiose and Vulnerable narcissism are the two main types of narcissism (Caligor, Levy, and Yeomans 2015). Each of these two types has its own set of traits and characteristics, and each has its own way of protecting its false self.
There are two subcategories of these types which distinguish how grandiose and vulnerable narcissists get their emotional and egotistical needs met, or in other words, get their narcissistic supply. These are the overt and covert subtypes of NPD (Milstead 2018).
Let’s take a look at each of these types and subtypes, and because I write about Maternal Narcissism, we’ll look specifically at how they present in narcissistic mothers.
“Grandiose” narcissism is the textbook type of narcissism that comes to mind when most people hear the term “narcissism.” It’s also known as high-functioning, exhibitionist, or classic narcissism. These narcissists are extroverted, dominant, and always seem to be pursuing power and prestige. They believe that they’re a step above everyone else, that they’re smarter, better-looking, and more powerful. Grandiose narcissists brag about themselves and will put down others as a way to raise their feelings of self-importance. They’re often rude, insensitive, and even cruel. They ignore, are unaware of, or don’t care about how their behavior affects others.
In the case of narcissistic mothers, they view their children as extensions of themselves rather than as people in their own right with thoughts, feelings, perceptions, goals, ideas, dreams, and desires of their own. For narcissistic moms, children are a means for obtaining admiration and validation. As we’ve seen, the false face behaves socially acceptably and imitates empathy. This makes narcissistic moms highly emotionally invested in perpetuating their false face. Keeping the false face frontward makes a narcissistic mother appear to be kind, compassionate, and empathetic. Her children will always be a means of gratifying and escalating this false self.
Vulnerable narcissism is the other type. These narcissists are also known as fragile, compensatory, self-effacing, or closet narcissists. They have the same characteristics as a grandiose narcissist, except they would rather stay behind the scenes instead of being in the spotlight.
Because they prefer to stay away from attention, they’re harder to recognize. They can go a long time before being discovered to be a narcissist. They’re often quiet, shy, or reserved, but they’re still emotionally demanding and draining for others to be around. Like grandiose narcissists, they feel entitled, but they’re also insecure. They can be generous with their time or money as a way of getting compliments, affirmation, or praise, but because of their self-doubt, they would rather associate with people whom they idealize. They choose to attach to talented, famous, or influential individuals to satisfy their need to feel special.
Like grandiose narcissists, vulnerable narcissists believe they’re faultless, and they get irritated when others fail to see their perfection. Their lives revolve around the task of convincing everyone of their greatness. They often present themselves as victims, regardless of the circumstances. They enjoy playing the victim role (I call it being a “poor me”) to get attention in the form of sympathy or pity.
Vulnerable narcissists are prone to depression, mainly because they think that their life doesn’t align with their ideas of what it should be or what they’re entitled to. This inconsistency may cause them to act impulsively without considering the consequences. For example, they may abruptly quit their job before finding another because the work or their coworkers or supervisors don’t match their expectations or fantasies.
Narcissism “subtypes” describe the method that grandiose or vulnerable narcissists use to get their emotional and egotistical needs met, known as “narcissistic supply.” If the way of getting their narcissistic supply is easy to spot, the individual is probably an overt narcissist.
While all narcissists will brag, take advantage of people, and speak negatively about others to make themselves look superior, overt narcissists will do these things in distinct, very noticeable ways. For example, overt narcissists attract attention to themselves directly in ways such as over-dressing, or dressing provocatively, talking too loudly, wearing attention-getting makeup, hairstyles, or accessories, or driving conspicuous vehicles. They require admiration, and if they don’t get it, they react with rage, ridicule, mockery, or humiliation. They like to use charm and flattery so people will like them although they’re arrogant, proud, and view others as insignificant or as competitors to conquer. They feel entitled and expect special treatment.
Covert narcissism, on the other hand, is subtle, and it can be tricky to identify. Covert narcissists are more cautious and reserved in the ways they get their supply.
If we find ourselves denying, minimizing, or making excuses for someone’s behavior, that’s a red flag. If you start feeling like a detective on the lookout for reasons to explain someone’s behavior, pay attention to that. They could be a covert narcissist.
Because of the reserved way that covert narcissists get their supply, it’s understandable that covert narcissistic moms get their supply mainly from their children. It’s about how her children make her appear as a mother. Whatever you do to make her look good in front of others is a form of supply for her. If you give her a gift, she’ll brag about it because receiving a gift from her child makes her appear to be a well-loved mother. When she gives you gifts, though, there are always “strings” attached. She can’t give for the sake of giving. She expects something in return, in the form of loyalty, emotional caretaking, secret-keeping, or admiration.
Taking care of her needs will be number one on her priority list, and her children’s needs will be further down. If you question her, she’ll assume you’re challenging her, and she’ll become defensive, maybe violent. She doesn’t respect your boundaries or your privacy. She’s totally at ease going into your personal space, looking in your purse, reading your diary, listening to your phone conversations, reading private mail and documents, and sharing your personal and private information with others. Because of this, you’ll feel a sense of shame in multiple areas, but you won’t realize that these behaviors are its source.
If your mom is a covert narcissist, you may sense that something isn’t “right” in your relationship, but you can’t quite “put your finger on it.” It could be the way she expresses herself, or that things she does or says confuse you. Sensing that something’s not adding up, but not being able to identify what it is can stir up feelings of anxiety and the desire to avoid her. If your mom is a narcissist, it can feel like she’s sucking the life right out of us; we may feel exhausted after spending time with her, and we don’t understand the reasons why.
As kids, if mom is a covert narcissist, we can’t exactly avoid her, so we’re likely to become hyperaware of her moods and behaviors instead. Our intuition, our gut feelings, alert us when something’s going on that we don’t comprehend. We know we need to be careful, and we may be sensing danger.
If your mother is a covert narcissist, your sense of self-preservation will more than likely intensify over time, causing you to become exceptionally alert and aware of your mother’s behavior. You might have ongoing feelings of uneasiness when you’re with her; it may feel like you’re not entirely emotionally or physically safe. Those of us who are children of covert narcissists may have started feeling distrustful of our mothers without having a concrete reason, and this can make us question our judgment. That’s the last thing we should do!
If there is no professional diagnosis, it doesn’t mean we imagine the problem or that something’s wrong with our perception. We’re sensing something that we can’t physically see or explain, but it’s still authentic. Our intuition is real. When it alerts us, we need to pay attention.
Covert narcissist traits make it difficult for others to see anything “wrong” with mom. Most of the time, there’s nothing concrete to point to. Sure, we have lots of examples of her strange and confusing behavior, and we can speak at length about her unusual way of thinking, perceiving, or expressing herself, including that she’s either the victim or the hero in any scenario. Without a broader context or the experience of living with her, it’s difficult for others to see that there’s something fundamentally inappropriate going on. The biggest reasons for going undetected as a narcissist, I think, are the use of the false public self combined with subtle forms of manipulation and mind games like gaslighting and triangulation. All of these make it very hard for others, who only see her false face, to recognize her as a narcissist.
A covert narcissist mother tends to employ passive-aggressive behavior: for example, sulking, giving backhanded compliments, using procrastination and withdrawal to avoid interaction or activity, and refusing to talk (Cherry 2019). They enjoy guilt-tripping and pushing responsibilities on us that aren’t ours. They also like causing conflict between us and others. She uses a manipulative tactic called “triangulation”: when one person manipulates the relationship between two other people by controlling the amount and type of communication they have. She controls the narrative, which generates rivalry between the two parties and acts as a way to “divide and conquer,” playing one person against the other. My mother thoroughly enjoyed this game. She did it with me as well as cousins, aunts, and friends. A therapist once called it “stirring the pot,” and I’ve held onto that analogy.
Triangulation is toxic, but you can learn to use techniques and tools to deal with it in a whole new and healthy way. For instance, you can start speaking directly to the other person in the triangle to remove your mother’s input. Get your information directly rather than from your mother and suggest that others do the same. At the time I learned how to handle triangulation, I was decisively starting to take my personal power back. I was no longer willing to accept lies or gaslighting, and I started speaking up for myself. That was the beginning of my recovery. It’s called “setting boundaries,” and I write more about that in later chapters.
A covert narcissist-mom also likes to use “exclusionary behaviors,” such as withholding affection and attention from us or temporarily withdrawing from our lives. Then she’ll shower a specific person with copious amounts of love and attention. When she does this, it can feel like a punch in the gut, like she’s punishing us. That’s because it’s exactly what she’s doing, and it’s deliberate. It gives her a rush of power and superiority.
She has no empathy and can’t understand how we feel, but she knows that at that moment, she’s in control and has the power to hurt us. When you feel excluded, it can become a great time to practice getting in touch with your emotions by becoming self-aware and practicing mindfulness. Validate yourself by acknowledging how her behavior makes you feel. Do you notice any patterns when she’s about to make you feel like an outsider? Is there a way to halt those patterns before they start? If not, then practice getting comfortable with being an outsider. When you’re excluded, practice controlling your emotions and recognizing your triggers. Think of your triggers as little suitcases that you need to unpack and examine the contents. You’ll be surprised at what you find.
When you’re ready, you’ll begin to apply a bit of loving detachment and set some boundaries around the exclusionary behavior. (You’ll learn more about detachment and boundary-setting in later chapters.)
Narcissists don’t feel a sense of remorse or conscience. They believe that everything they do is justified or is someone else’s fault. They don’t take responsibility for their actions, which makes them unable to feel guilt. To feel guilty, it’s necessary to feel empathy and remorse.
Guilt is a positive and healthy thing. It’s a form of cognitive dissonance, a way of holding a mirror up and seeing the discrepancy between “this is who you say you are, but this is what you did.” We feel guilty when “who we are” and “what we did” are not aligned. This misalignment causes us to feel guilt and empathy for the person we wronged. For example, if I believe I’m a gentle, kind, and loving person, and I make a cruel remark to someone, my perception of “who I am” no longer matches my behavior: “what I did.” A gentle, kind, and loving person would not intentionally say mean things. I would be motivated by feelings of guilt to apologize for my conduct. The cognitive dissonance that guilt provides drives us to atone for our inappropriate actions.
Feeling guilty, remorseful, or apologetic are beyond a narcissist’s capabilities. We will never get an apology from a narcissist-mom. Instead, we’ll get a weird version of an excuse where she justifies or defends what she did if she’s even willing to admit what she did. Or we may get the silent treatment until she feels she’s punished us sufficiently. It’s all so arbitrary, and somehow the message will always be that her actions were our fault.
With a covert narcissist-mom, her needs and emotions always come first, because they’re of utmost importance to her. Her children’s needs and feelings may or may not be relevant, depending on how she feels at the moment (about herself, about life, etc.). She sees everything as a competition, and nothing that has ever happened or will happen to her children could ever compare to what she has experienced. Her experiences are always more highly valued. This is known as “one-upmanship.”
When we’re around her, we’ll eventually develop an apprehension of saying or doing the wrong thing, and a feeling of “walking on eggshells” or tippy-toeing around her to avoid upsetting her, making her angry, or setting her off. We live with a genuine understanding that we’re not emotionally safe with her. She hijacks everything we say or do and makes it about herself. Anything we say or do that displeases her will be remembered, brought up, and held against us in the future, and so we try to avoid confrontation of any kind.
The result of this focus is that we start to feel responsible for her feelings and actions. We become her emotional guardians and caretakers even to the point that we allow her to isolate us from friends and family or to control whom we interact with.
We all need someone to talk to and share our problems with or bounce ideas off. Sharing with friends or family who aren’t familiar with toxic relationships, and specifically, narcissism can frustrate or hurt us even more. Others don’t know that they’re invalidating us or discounting our experiences. They only know our mother’s false face. That’s why I repeatedly suggest talking to a neutral party, like a counselor who understands this disorder.
If your mother is a covert narcissist, you might notice discrepancies between her words and her actions, meaning that they don’t match up. This can make you feel edgy (that “walking on eggshells” feeling), and being in this state of mind heightens your fight-or-flight response. The fight-or-flight mode causes a sudden and quick hormone release that activates the body’s ability to deal with danger or threats. Adrenaline and noradrenaline are two of the hormones released during the fight-or-flight response; they increase blood pressure, heart, and breathing rate. We’ll talk more about the fight-or-flight response and what it does in later chapters. In the meantime, just know that mixed messages contribute to feelings of being on high-alert, edginess, and confusion.
A narcissistic mom’s mixed messages are a type of communication where one party sends conflicting information to another, either verbally or nonverbally.
Mixed messages come in various packages:
What she says conflicts with what she previously said.
What she does conflicts with what she previously did.
What she says conflicts with what she does.
What she says conflicts with her facial expressions or body language.
An example of “words not matching facial expression/body language” would be when mom says she’s happy to see you, but she frowns, and her tone of voice is sarcastic. This would be confusing because of the conflicting information you’re getting: “happy” means that a person’s face would show joy, usually by smiling. A happy person would not frown. “Sarcasm” is used to mock or convey contempt. It’s used to inflict pain and is often described as wounding.
Do you see how these mixed messages can cause feelings of confusion? In this example, an empowering response would be: “I’m confused. You say you’re happy to see me, yet you look so ______ (angry, sad, depressed, etc.) I don’t get it. What’s going on?” This response puts the confusion back on her. It informs her that you’re aware of what she’s doing, and it sets the expectation for her to clarify her communication. It signals that you’re not going to tolerate that kind of behavior any longer. It’s empowering because you don’t have to accept the confusion or ruminate over it anymore.
An example of “words not matching actions” would be when mom brags about how caring and empathetic she is, but you haven’t seen any evidence of this. There’s a term for this behavior; it’s called virtue signaling. When a person indeed possesses a character trait, they don’t have to announce or advertise it. They simply live it, and people notice. Covert narcissists want us to believe what they tell us about themselves, instead of what we see for ourselves. I view this as another form of gaslighting.
Tools:
Conscious awareness: Be aware and make conscious choices before acting. Self-awareness releases us from making impulsive and potentially damaging decisions.
Self-care: We can only choose to focus on and be responsible for ourselves, our own thoughts, actions, and behavior. The good news is that we can change ourselves with patience, persistence, and practice. We can take responsibility for getting our needs met, instead of waiting for someone to change or meet our needs for us. We are in control of ourselves and no one is responsible for us but us.
More resources to guide you in healing from childhood trauma, abuse, or neglect. Available on Amazon and wherever books are sold. (ebook, audiobook, hardcover, and paperback.)
Like these posts? Want them automatically delivered to your inbox twice monthly?
As a result of growing up in a dysfunctional home, and with the help of professional therapists and continued personal growth, Diane Metcalf has developed strong coping skills and healing strategies. She happily shares those insights with others who want to learn.
Her books and articles are the result of her education, knowledge, personal growth, and insight regarding her childhood experiences and subsequent recovery work.
Diane holds a Master of Science degree in Information Technology and a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology. She has worked in numerous fields including domestic violence and abuse and is an experienced advocate, speaker, and writer about family dysfunction. Currently, she writes about recovery from narcissistic victim syndrome and symptoms of C-PTSD on The Toolbox and has authored three books in the “Lemon Moms” series. Visit her author’s website here.
She is no longer a practicing Social Worker, Counselor, Program Manager, or Advocate.
This website is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional therapy.
Mother’s Day is coming. If your relationship with your mother is typically full of pain and heartache, this article is for you.
Why Mother’s Day Sucks for Adult Children of Narcissists
Every April, TV commercials begin urging us to remember our mothers on Mothers Day, the second Sunday in May. They often portray sweet, heartwarming, sentimental interactions between mothers and their children. Watching those commercials has always been difficult for me because I longed for those kinds of interactions my entire life. Sometimes I cried when I watched them, so painful was the contrast between them and the relationship that I had with my own mother.
American culture promotes motherhood as a saintly paradigm; that mother-love is instinctual, unconditional, and spontaneous; and that all women can be loving, empathetic, nurturing mothers. Believing these inaccuracies can harm an unloved child’s spirit, keeping him or her in a state of confusion and self-doubt (“cognitive dissonance.”)
An emotionally healthy mother’s love is a powerful, constant theme throughout her children’s lives and memories; her kindness, compassion, validation, and the loving bond that they share. For those of us who don’t have that kind of mom, or that kind of relationship, or those kinds of memories, we watch others who do, and we wonder what is wrong with us. We try, but we can’t figure out why we are so unlovable. Because surely if our mothers can’t love us, it must be our fault. We must be unlovable, right?
But, the fact is, for human beings, mothering is a learned behavior; there’s a spectrum of maternal behaviors, from healthy to toxic. Acknowledging this may be helpful when thinking about Mother’s Day.
If your mother is self-important, seeks admiration, believes she’s superior, lacks empathy, manipulates and uses her children, puts others down, is hypersensitive to criticism, or believes she deserves special treatment, she may be on the narcissism spectrum. If she is, you will likely experience mixed feelings about Mother’s Day. Daughters and sons of narcissistic mothers are out there and think they’re alone. You’re not alone.
In my unhealed past, I used to spend a huge amount of emotional energy just selecting a card. These days, there is awareness and sensitivity regarding family dysfunction and the fact that not all mothers are loving and kind. It’s easier now to find a more realistic card sentiment. But in the past, I had great difficulty finding a card that wasn’t over-the-top: “Happy Mothers Day to the Greatest Mother of All Time!” or “Happy Mother’s Day to the Mother of the Year!” Seriously. They all felt like lies. While I dealt with that, other adult children of narcissists dealt with questions like: “Should I even send a card?” “Should I call her?” “Should I see her?” “Should I ignore the day?” “What should I do?”
Like other adult children of narcissists at this time of year, I was triggered by memories of an unloving, emotionally detached, uninvolved, neglectful and intentionally cruel mother. I also found myself envious of anyone who had a caring, loving mother, or who looked forward to spending mothers day with her. Every year, I experienced pain and turmoil because I was deeply codependent, and living in a state of denial about my maternal relationship. Every Mother’s Day, I was forced to face the reality of it in all its stark ugliness and demoralizing humiliation. At one point, I was actually a mother myself, yet still focused on making this day all about my own mother. I wasn’t able to enjoy what the day meant for me as a mother. Eventually I realized that something needed to change so I could experience the day in a whole new, healthy way.
Confusion and Cognitive Dissonance
If you are an empathetic person, you are naturally sensitive to others’ emotional needs. Trying to understand that narcissists don’t have this ability is difficult to understand or believe.
When our need for love and connection with our mothers is not met, we often blame ourselves. As children, we never thought there was something wrong with our mothers. Instead, we began forming beliefs that we were not good enough, and that we didn’t matter.
As adults, we took those beliefs with us and we keep returning to that parent, again and again, hoping and wishing that it will be different this time. We focus on gaining her approval, validation, acceptance, and love. We jump through any hoop she offers. And, as adults, if we’re still attempting to please our narcissistic moms, we’re putting ourselves in a no-win situation. Our failure to satisfy her will trigger more pain and confusion, and a continuation of the “not-good-enough’s” and “we-don’t-matter’s.
At some point, we may begin to entertain the idea that the problem is not us, and we might suspect it could be her. We may feel guilty for having these thoughts, yet, it’s something we need to consider.
There’s a Name For It
When I decided to actively pursue healing and personal growth, a therapist presented the idea that my mother may have an undiagnosed and untreated mental illness, most likely a personality disorder. This was exciting and validating news for me because I had entertained that idea for awhile. As I came to grasp the impact that my mother’s probable mental illness had on me, I felt a gamut of conflicting emotions.
“Narcissism Awareness Grief” (NAG) is a condition coined by Dr. Christine Hammond, a Licensed Mental Health Counselor who works with exhausted women and their families. She teaches that the loss of a mother’s love, warmth, interest, and connection is a momentous one that must be consciously grieved.
Narcissism Awareness Grief acknowledges these losses and recognizes that our mothers’ narcissistic traits have negatively impacted us. We can then begin to come to terms with how they have impacted us. Through this acknowledgment, we can break through the coping mechanism of denial and start working through the six stages of grief, to finally arrive at the final phase: Acceptance. When you fully understand and accept that you cannot change or control your mother’s perception of you, the ball is truly in your court. It’s from the point of Acceptance that your life can and will change.
Your mother does not need a diagnosis for you to determine your relationship is unhealthy. If it is, you can do something about it.
I remember very clearly what it was like to experience Narcissism Awareness Grief. As I slowly woke up to see the effects that my mother’s narcissistic traits had on me, I felt a mixture of shock, denial, disbelief, and a sense of overwhelming sadness. You see, when we discover that the traumatic lifestyle we’ve endured as children has an actual name, Narcissism Awareness Grief, it’s a massive relief. There’s an initial rush of validation, and we suddenly realize that we’re not alone, that we’re not crazy, and that we haven’t imagined any of it. Narcissistic trauma and abuse are real things, and we can recover from them. There is nothing—and there never was—anything inherently wrong with us, as we may have been led to believe.
Going No Contact, or Not
Many experts say when it comes to relationships with narcissists, that you have two choices: live on their terms (focusing on them, chasing after their withheld love, acceptance, and affection) or go “no contact.”
But here’s the rub: when a mother and adult child relationship fails, it’s the adult child who’s commonly believed to be responsible for the breach. Cultural opinions like these can keep an unloved daughter or son stuck in the place they’ve been since childhood—knowing that something’s wrong, blaming themselves, and wondering who will be able to love them if their own mother can’t. Going “no contact,” for me, felt like an “either/or” choice, having no flexibility, and was a “point of no return.” And it didn’t feel good.
I’ve never been a big fan of black and white thinking. I like seeing all the shades of gray. So, I created a third option for myself. I learned how to identify complex trauma symptoms, refuse the gaslighting, heal my c-ptsd symptoms, remove the drama from our relationship, set enforceable boundaries, shut down manipulation, and upgrade my communication style.
I still have a relationship with my mother, but it’s changed significantly. I no longer focus on what she does, says, or expects, and as a result, I no longer fee humiliated, unloved, invalidated, and rejected. The difference is that our relationship is on my terms now.
If you’re interested in how I did this, I wrote a book about it, called “Lemon Moms: A Guide to Understand and Survive Maternal Narcissism.”
In the meantime…
So, what can we adult children of maternal narcissists do to feel better about Mother’s Day this year?
Here are some suggestions that may help:
Remember, it’s a day, and like most days, you can make it what you want.
Question the card. Search for a generic Mother’s Day card, if you want to send a card at all. Giving a card that says “Best Mom in the World” is an act of denial. The first step to healing is admitting that you grew up in a dysfunctional home. NO MORE DENIAL. It takes courage not to buy that lying card.
Eliminate expectations. You can’t be disappointed if you don’t expect anything to be different this year. Learn to drop expectations.
Make new traditions. Do the day differently. Celebrate yourself! Do something you enjoy, whether solo, with a friend, significant other, or your children. YOU get to determine how you will spend your time on this day.
Feel and express your feelings. Give yourself permission to feel and express whatever you’re feeling. Give yourself space to cry, be angry, feel unloved, or grieve. Acknowledge that you have reason to feel these emotions, and validate your childhood memories. Start writing it all down in a journal to get it out in a healthy way.
Shift the focus. Practice gratitude, speak healing affirmations, or do something wonderful for someone else.
Make an appointment. If Mother’s Day annually triggers anxiety or depression, give yourself the gift of scheduled time with a professional to start or continue the healing process.
Seek support. Find support groups in your area or online. Talking with others who understand narcissism dynamics can help in your healing journey. And as always, don’t try to explain it to those who don’t. Other’s who don’t understand narcissism, or haven’t gone through Narcissism Awareness Grief and healed their own wounds, may unknowingly invalidate you, causing further trauma.
Express gratitude to mothers you know who are loving and kind. Honor other women who may have given you motherly love, perhaps a grandmother, aunt, co-worker, or friend.
If you are a mother, think about your values and work to end the legacy of one-sided love. Acknowledge and be grateful for your ability to love.
Start working a recovery program so you don’t pass the legacy down to your children. If you are working on your recovery, good for you! Do the work!
On Mother’s Day, let’s honor the mothers who have given their children the gifts of love and nurturing. At the same time, let’s acknowledge the truths of the daughters and sons of the mothers who did not fit the upheld, saintly mother stereotype. And let’s applaud the mothers who are working a recovery program to change their family legacy of narcissistic abuse.
References:
McBride, K. (2012, April 9). When Mother’s Day Hurts. Psychology Today. Retrieved April 21, 2021, from https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-legacy-distorted-love/201204/when-mother-s-day-hurts.
Hammond, C. (2019, June 29). What is narcissism awareness grief (NAG)? Retrieved August 2, 2019, from https://pro.psychcentral.com/exhausted-woman/2018/07/what-is-narissism-awareness-grief-nag/.
More resources to guide you in healing from childhood trauma, abuse, or neglect. Available on Amazon and wherever books are sold. (ebook, audiobook, hardcover, and paperback.)
Like these posts? Want them automatically delivered to your inbox twice monthly?
As a result of growing up in a dysfunctional home, and with the help of professional therapists and continued personal growth, Diane Metcalf has developed strong coping skills and healing strategies. She happily shares those insights with others who want to learn.
Her books and articles are the result of her education, knowledge, personal growth, and insight regarding her childhood experiences and subsequent recovery work.
Diane holds a Master of Science degree in Information Technology and a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology. She has worked in numerous fields including domestic violence and abuse and is an experienced advocate, speaker, and writer about family dysfunction. Currently, she writes about recovery from narcissistic victim syndrome and symptoms of C-PTSD on The Toolbox and has authored three books in the “Lemon Moms” series. Visit her author’s website here.
She is no longer a practicing Social Worker, Counselor, Program Manager, or Advocate.
This website is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional therapy.
If you suffer from narcissistic abuse syndrome, you are dealing with trauma bonds, as well.
What is a Trauma Bond?
Trauma bonds occurs over time through the use of “intermittent reinforcement,” which is a type of behavioral “conditioning” where a reward (or a punishment) is given irregularly instead of every time the desired behavior is observed. In other words, periods of abuse are interspersed with periods of kindness (or the absence of cruelty). This cycle of “always guessing” keeps the target on high alert in survival mode. They never know when the abuser will be cruel or kind. It’s like a game of chance, like playing slot machines or Bingo. Sometimes you win, and sometimes you lose, but it’s the possibility of winning that keeps you going back for more.
Any behavior that keeps you on high alert, or focused on your mother’s behavior, is capable of forming trauma bonds.
How are Trauma Bonds Created?
Trauma bonds are created in several ways:
Love bombing: The love bombing dynamic occurs when a narcissist, including narcissistic mothers, unexpectedly showers you with love, attention, kindness, or affection. Love bombing comes in various forms—gift-giving, forgiveness for past “offenses,” anything that makes you feel validated or special. Love bombing helps form a trauma bond because it’s a form of intermittent reinforcement: you never know when it will happen.
Verbal abuse: Shouting, name-calling, sarcastic comments, character assassination, backhanded compliments, insults, demeaning remarks, “put-downs” and shaming are some examples of verbal abuse. The abuse happens on an irregular schedule, so it’s a form of intermittent reinforcement (spoken cruelty interspersed with periods of civility and kindness.) The resulting shame causes a trauma bond.
Positive reinforcement: Although it sounds healthy, positive reinforcement can also create trauma bonds. When a person, (including children) is rewarded for doing something they didn’t want to do, or obeying without question, there’s a trauma bond created. Healthy relationships don’t require rewards.
Victim blaming: When a narcissist blames their target (or the narcissist mother blames her child) for the cruelty inflicted upon them, they will likely believe they deserve it, because they’ve been conditioned to. This belief establishes a trauma bond.
Silent treatment: When a narcissist purposefully ignores you, that causes feelings of helpless, anxiety, and fear of abandonment. Having no control over the situation, you’ll focus on the narcissist and wait for their acceptance, however long it takes.
“Moving goalposts” (aka changing the goal): Narcissists often redefine or change their expectations, sometimes several times, during any interaction. Doing this ensures a frustrating encounter for those involved. A narcissist, (including narcissist mothers) is never satisfied, and keeping you emotionally invested in their happiness creates trauma bonds.
If you struggle with narcissistic abuse syndrome you’ll often doubt your self-worth and sanity. Targets of narcissistic abuse tend to focus on their faults, failures, and inadequacies, whether they’re real or not. Sometimes these “deficiencies” began as an idea expressed by the vocal narcissist.
There are several symptoms of narcissistic abuse syndrome. Many of these are the same as those of complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD,) which affects people who’ve experienced serious traumas.
Narcissistic Abuse Syndrome symptoms include:
Accepting an imbalanced sense of responsibility
Intrusive, or unwanted thoughts
Unhealed triggers (physical and emotional responses to similar past traumatic situations)
Flashbacks or nightmares where the target emotionally re-lives a traumatic experience
Avoiding people, places or conditions linked to the narcissist or the traumatic event
Feeling isolated, abandoned, or detached
Feeling alert or hyper-vigilant, or easily startled (“fight or flight”)
Negative thoughts about self and world
Insecurity
Shame
Accepting misplaced blame
Difficulty concentrating or sleeping
Depression
Self-destructive behaviors
Involvement in abusive romantic relationships
Lost trust in family or friends
Feeling worthless or unworthy
Lost sense of self
Holding the narcissist in high esteem
Doubting their judgment and decision-making skills
Ignoring their own needs
Devaluing or minimizing their contributions to relationships
Making excuses for a narcissist’s behavior
Continually trying to please the narcissist
Attachment issues
Weak boundaries
Addictions
Anxiety
Perfectionism
If you constantly wonder about your narcissist’s emotional state, for example, what will he/she be like today? Should you try to avoid them? Or do you frequently-
think about what you could be (or should be) doing differently to please them?
believe your relationship problems are all your fault?
deal with mood swings, lost sleep, anxiety, apprehension?
These are all symptoms of Narcissistic Abuse Syndrome, and if you have any of them you may also have trauma bonds. The good news is that you can detach from the abuse and heal. Keep learning and doing the work.
More resources to guide you in healing from childhood trauma, abuse, or neglect. Available on Amazon and wherever books are sold. (ebook, audiobook, hardcover, and paperback.)
Like these posts? Want them automatically delivered to your inbox twice monthly?
As a result of growing up in a dysfunctional home, and with the help of professional therapists and continued personal growth, Diane Metcalf has developed strong coping skills and healing strategies. She happily shares those insights with others who want to learn.
Her books and articles are the result of her education, knowledge, personal growth, and insight regarding her childhood experiences and subsequent recovery work.
Diane holds a Master of Science degree in Information Technology and a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology. She has worked in numerous fields including domestic violence and abuse and is an experienced advocate, speaker, and writer about family dysfunction. Currently, she writes about recovery from narcissistic victim syndrome and symptoms of C-PTSD on The Toolbox and has authored three books in the “Lemon Moms” series. Visit her author’s website here.
She is no longer a practicing Social Worker, Counselor, Program Manager, or Advocate.
This website is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional therapy.
When I was a domestic violence counselor, we used the term “cycle of abuse” to describe the patterns of behavior that led up to and included an abusive event. As counselors, we taught women who were involved in abusive relationships to recognize these patterns and to identify which stage they were currently in. By doing this, they could create a preemptive strategy to avoid or cope with an upcoming abusive incident.
Dr. Lenore Walker proposed the “Cycle of Abuse” in 1979. After interviewing 1,500 female domestic violence survivors, she found that they all shared a similar abusive scenario and that there was a recognizable pattern to how the abusive events happened. She developed this “cycle of abuse” based on this scenario.
The Four Elements of Abuse
Four elements were present in various forms for each of the female abuse survivors:
Tension Building
Abusive Incident
Remorse
Honeymoon
The Honeymoon Period proceeds directly into Tension Building, and the cycle repeats itself, uninterrupted. Every cycle shares the same four phases, but each cycle’s details differ from the previous ones. From one abuse cycle to the next, each of the four stages, as well as the cycle itself, can last different amounts of time or include behaviors that are unique from those of the last time.
The following diagram is based on Walker’s Cycle of Abuse.
(Walker, L.E.,1979)
The first phase is the “Tension Building” period. In it, the target senses growing strain in the relationship, and becomes anxious, highly alert, and guarded. There is an unshakeable feeling that there will be an abusive incident soon. Hence, the target attempts to control the environment to keep the abuser happy and calm.
In phase two, the abusive incident occurs. The abuse may be physical, mental, spiritual, emotional, verbal, or financial. Examples include name-calling, gaslighting, threats, intimidation, angry outbursts, arguing, blaming, and withholding love, affection, and attention.
The third phase is the “Remorse” period. In this phase, the abuser apologizes, makes excuses, and promises that the abuse will never happen again. The target is showered with love, affection, and attention, and sometimes offered gifts and tokens of affection as indicators of sorrow.
The “Honeymoon” is the fourth phase. There is a period of calm in the relationship while the abuser attempts to make the target feel loved, safe, and secure. The Honeymoon will continue for an undetermined amount of time, the length of which may change with every cycle.
This entire cycle will continuously repeat, often over years, until it is intentionally interrupted by one of the two participants. One way of interrupting the cycle is for the target to leave the relationship.
When a narcissist is involved in the cycle of abuse, it plays out differently. The “Remorse” phase is notpresent in the narcissistic abuse cycle because narcissists are unwilling to accept responsibility and would instead place the blame on their target.
Remember, narcissists need to feel superior and “right” in every situation. This, combined with their lack of empathy, means that they don’t experience feelings of remorse. Remorsefulness requires empathy, sympathy, and taking responsibility for our actions (Hammond 2018). So, the narcissistic cycle of abuse differs significantly from Walker’s cycle of abuse in this phase.
The Narcissistic Cycle of Abuse
Here is what the cycle of abuse looks like when a narcissist is the offender. This diagram is based on Christine Hammond’s “Narcissistic Cycle of Abuse.”
(Hammond, C. 2018)
How the Phases Are Different
In phase one, a Narcissistic Injury occurs. The abuser feels rejected, threatened, jealous, abandoned, disrespected, or any feeling that challenges their superiority. The target feels anxious and tries to appease and please the narcissist, much like in phase one of Walker’s Cycle of Abuse.
As in Walker’s Cycle of Abuse, phase two is also an Abusive Incident, which could be physical, mental, spiritual, emotional, verbal, or financial. Examples include name-calling, gaslighting, threats, intimidation, angry outbursts, arguing, blaming, withholding love, affection, and attention.
Phase three is completely different in the Narcissistic Cycle of Abuse. When the cycle involves a narcissist, the roles in the Remorse stage are reversed. Now the narcissist will play the part of the abused/victim, and the target will apologize and appease. What eventually happens in the fourth phase is that narcissistic behaviors become stronger, and the abuse cycle repeats until someone intentionally breaks the cycle. To break it, the target needs to change their behavior by not accepting the role reversal. In other words, the target will no longer take the blame or accept the role of the abuser.
Subtleties of Abuse: Golden, Invisible and Scapegoat
As I’ve mentioned in the book “Lemon Moms,” there’s a particularly dysfunctional family dynamic in which one of the children of a narcissistic (or alcoholic, dysfunctional, mentally ill) parent becomes the “idealized” parental favorite, known as the “Golden Child.” The other children will take turns being devalued and blamed, known as the “Invisible Child” and the “Scapegoat. The dysfunctional parent controls these roles.
The roles of the Golden Child, Invisible Child, and Scapegoat are flexible; any role can be assigned to any child at any time, depending on the parent’s mood. It’s a “crazy-making” situation because the toxic parent has the unchallenged power to change the entire family dynamic unpredictably. The children are caught unaware and unprepared.
The Golden Child: The Golden Child’s role is to bring positive attention to the the toxic or narcissistic parent and the family. The Golden Child is the favorite, and as such, may have a special status and receive more attention and praise. They’re the ones that get bragged about. They make the dysfunctional parent look good. Even so, the parent will always take some credit for their children’s accomplishments.
The Invisible Child (aka Lost Child): The role of the Invisible Child is to “stay under the radar,” to follow the rules unquestioningly, be quiet, and easy-going. Invisible Children are often taken for granted, and their needs are neglected because they never complain or ask for anything. Invisible Children may internalize a sense of having no impact on others.
The Scapegoat: The Scapegoat’s role is to bear the blame for all of the family’s problems. They are the butt of jokes and get less of everything than the other siblings. They are seen as the problem child. Scapegoats often grow up to become the ones who speak up and challenge the dysfunction.
A sudden change in family positions is upsetting. These random role reversals affect our sense of observation, decision-making, and self-trust because we never know if the explanation we’re giving ourselves is accurate. And we’re continuously guessing our current standing within the family.
Those of us who’ve lived under those circumstances were usually on high alert, in fight-or-flight survival mode, because we had no idea when the next attack or role reversal would happen. It meant we were continuously producing stress hormones like adrenaline and cortisol, so it was a common occurrence to feel confused or experience scattered thinking.
Living under these circumstances can result in destroying a child’s self-esteem and cause them to feel unnecessary fear and shame.
Self-care: We can only choose to focus on and be responsible for ourselves, our own thoughts, actions, and behavior. We can take responsibility for getting our needs met, instead of waiting for someone to change or meet our needs for us. We are in control of ourselves and no one is responsible for us but us. We can change ourselves with patience, persistence, and practice.
Conscious awareness: Be aware and make conscious choices before acting. Self-awareness releases us from making impulsive and potentially damaging decisions. Practice mindfulness.
Learn about letting go of what you can’t control, by using loving-detachment
More resources to guide you in healing from childhood trauma, abuse, or neglect. Available on Amazon and wherever books are sold. (ebook, audiobook, hardcover, and paperback.)
Like these posts? Want them automatically delivered to your inbox twice monthly?
As a result of growing up in a dysfunctional home, and with the help of professional therapists and continued personal growth, Diane Metcalf has developed strong coping skills and healing strategies. She happily shares those insights with others who want to learn.
Her books and articles are the result of her education, knowledge, personal growth, and insight regarding her childhood experiences and subsequent recovery work.
Diane holds a Master of Science degree in Information Technology and a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology. She has worked in numerous fields including domestic violence and abuse and is an experienced advocate, speaker, and writer about family dysfunction. Currently, she writes about recovery from narcissistic victim syndrome and symptoms of C-PTSD on The Toolbox and has authored three books in the “Lemon Moms” series. Visit her author’s website here.
She is no longer a practicing Social Worker, Counselor, Program Manager, or Advocate.
This website is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional therapy.
Codependent relationships often form as the result of trauma bonding between individuals who live in a cycle of abuse or mistreatment. It’s a method of coping with a stressful or unhealthy, traumatic, or abusive environment. Codependency develops as a self-protective response to supporting or “enabling” someone’s addiction, mental illness, immaturity, irresponsibility, or under-achievement. It results from taking responsibility, blame, or making excuses for another person’s harmful or hurtful behavior.
Codependency is an emotional and behavioral illness that affects a person’s ability to have healthy, mutually satisfying relationships. Codependents are called “people-pleasers.” They willingly play by the “rules” of others and lose their identity in the process. As a result, they rely on others for their sense of identity, approval, or validation. This is called “seeking external validation.” People-pleasers need to be needed. To others, they appear to be busybodies, involved in other people’s business, or with things that shouldn’t concern them. They may also appear as unselfish; as someone who can be counted on, or who never says “no.”
When we’re children who don’t have mentally healthy role models and caregivers, we don’t learn or develop healthy coping skills to equip ourselves in adulthood. We may also learn codependent behavior from watching or imitating other codependents in our family. And future generations may learn codependent behaviors from us if the cycle isn’t broken.
Why is codependency something to be healed?
Codependency is a form of self-abandonment. Instead of focusing on our lives, goals, issues, and our “stuff,” we focus on others and look for validation and approval from them. Other’s needs come first, and ours come last. Living like this can cause codependent individuals to become depressed or anxious or experience panic disorders. And because we abandon ourselves, we may doubt ourselves, have low self-esteem, low energy, feelings of helplessness, hopelessness, powerlessness, defeat, and low self-worth. When we have low self-worth, it’s natural to feel that we’re not worthy or good enough to ask for what we want or need. Instead, we might learn to get our needs met by manipulating people or consequences. We may discover that we feel worthy or good enough when we accept responsibilities that aren’t ours. As we mature, in order for us to feel emotionally or physically safe, it can feel natural and necessary for us to control as much of our environment as possible.
When we spend more time emotionally taking care of or focusing on others than ourselves, trying to control their behavior, how they perceive us, or the consequences of their choices, we have become codependent. When we take responsibility, blame, or make excuses for their harmful or hurtful behavior, we have become codependent. When we rely on others for our sense of identity, approval, or validation, we have become codependent. If we are focused on someone’s life, goals, issues, and “stuff,” instead of our own, we have become codependent. If their needs come first, and ours come last, we have become codependent.
If you are an “action taker” and a “do-er,” you might be a codependent.
The stages of becoming codependent
Codependency exists on a continuum, from mild to severe. There are three stages in the development of codependency: the loss of self, the need to appease someone important to us, and the need to control the consequences of the other’s behavior. Let’s talk about each of those.
Loss of self: This early-stage of codependency looks like we’re paying an increasing amount of attention to someone else. We may monitor their moods, become hypervigilant, and feel a strong desire to please them. In this phase, we deny or rationalize their problem behaviors and fabricate explanations that maintain our sense of safety. We may endure gaslighting because our focus is on keeping them calm and minimizing verbal or physical attacks, or some other problematic behavior. We are as invisible as possible. We learn that we don’t matter.
Need to appease: This stage takes increased effort as we continue denying or minimizing the more painful aspects of a relationship. We likely feel anxious, guilty, and ashamed, but we purposefully hide these feelings from ourselves and others, along with our relationship problems. We may withdraw from other relationships and activities we enjoy. Our self-esteem decreases, and we continue to compromise ourselves to maintain a semblance of stability or predictability. Our focus is on taking someone’s “emotional temperature.” We learn to adjust our behavior and expectations according to what we sense is happening with them. We may feel angry, disappointed, unloved, or unimportant when we’re in this phase of codependency. We may begin using other maladaptive coping behaviors, including eating, bingeing, self-harming, stealing, engaging in risky sexual activity, or abusing substances.
Need to control consequences: In late-stage codependency, emotional and behavioral symptoms start affecting us. We may experience health issues like stomachaches, nightmares, headaches, muscle pain, tension, and TMJ. Self-esteem and self-care are almost nonexistent at this point, replaced by feelings of hopelessness, helplessness, anger, resentment, and overall unhappiness. We may begin to feel more symptoms of C-PTSD if we live with repetitive traumatic events.
When we’re in healthy relationships, we don’t feel obligated to help others avoid their naturally occurring consequences. Instead, both parties understand that outcomes should be experienced by the person who’s responsible for causing them.
Adult children
When we develop codependent coping skills as children, we will more than likely take them with us into adulthood, if we haven’t learned healthy ways of coping. If we became codependent as children, we were probably caretakers for other adults or siblings. We were likely required to mature quickly and take responsibilities that were not age-appropriate. When it felt unsafe for us to be around our caretaker, we learned to tiptoe around the instability. We learned to “put-up and shut-up.” We monitored moods and responded accordingly, we noticed behavioral patterns, and we became very good at predicting behavior. We learned how to take the initiative in making someone else’s life easier or better so we could feel a sense of stability and safety. We became accustomed to doing things for them and others that they could do for themselves. Controlling our environment became equivalent to feeling safe.
Letting go of and no longer controlling the outcomes and consequences of someone else’s actions are some of the first steps in healing codependency.
As codependent adults, we spend time thinking about how to please and caretake others while our own social, professional, and personal responsibilities get neglected. We continue focusing on others despite the problems it creates. Because we still desire love, connection, and affection, we will continue compromising ourselves, emotionally caretaking and chasing after love and affection, while settling for crumbs and feeling unloved, unseen and not good enough. These behaviors eventually affect our ability to have healthy, mutually satisfying adult relationships. Because we feel confused, distrustful, hesitant, disoriented, and emotionally exhausted, we often find ourselves searching for answers and explanations as to why we feel this way.
We may also seek out individuals who fit with our codependent personality. Codependency lends itself nicely to all kinds of unhealthy relationships. It wouldn’t be unusual to find ourselves in relationships involving alcoholism, substance abuse, verbal or physical abuse, and mental illness, including narcissism. Those who have experienced childhood trauma or abuse may eventually find themselves in abusive, toxic, or less-than-satisfying adult relationships. It makes sense: this toxic person’s behavior and way of relating to us seem familiar, and we already know our role and what’s expected of us within the relationship.
As codependents, we try forcing ourselves painfully into a mold that we will never fit into. And we repeatedly try to become someone else’s idea of who we should be. Not knowing details about yourself that you know about other’s in your life, like favorite foods, music, authors, etc. are the result of an other-directed, other-focused upbringing.
Codependents enjoy offering suggestions and advice even though they haven’t been asked for them. If we’re codependent, we feel responsible for people and issues that aren’t our responsibility. If we don’t attempt to help, fix, or control, we often feel guilty or ashamed. It feels wrong or selfish when we don’t jump in, take charge, or assist others who seem to be struggling. It feels wrong not to help even when they haven’t asked for our help. We feel that somehow it’s our job to take action, take over, and fix. We often feel the need to make excuses for others’ mistreatment of us or their poor behavior in general. We explain and justify to ourselves why it’s OK for them to do so. We often take the blame or minimize and deny the pain they cause. We codependents are famously known for our discomfort with saying, “no.”
If we’re codependent, we most likely don’t have boundaries. We’ll overexplain and defend ourselves because we want to been seen, affirmed, validated and understood. We’ll continuously seek affirmation outside of ourselves to feel “good enough” or like we matter. Others often describe us as needy, “clingy,” or insecure.
How to know if you’re codependent
Are you codependent?
Have you taken actions that prevent someone from feeling or experiencing the consequences of their choices?
Have you tried to control the outcome of a particular situation or event?
Have you taken responsibility for someone’s actions or poor choices?
When you take responsibility (or accept blame or make excuses) for someone’s harmful or hurtful behavior, it “enables” them to keep doing it. (a) You’ve taken all the responsibility away from them and placed it on yourself, and (b) there are no negative consequences from which they can learn.
Do you do things for other’s that they could do for themselves?
Although it often feels right to take care of others, we’re often left feeling taken advantage of or resentful. So, if you feel resentful about something you did or are doing for someone, it might be that you’re using codependent behavior.
Have I/do I try to manage or control someone or their choices?
Have I taken on responsibilities that aren’t mine?
Have I ever been called “controlling” or a “control freak?”
Do I take care of others by cleaning up their messes, both figuratively and otherwise?
Codependency includes behaviors like the ones listed below. How many of these do you notice in yourself?
Being preoccupied or concerned with the needs of others
Placing a low priority on your own needs
Being attracted to needy or emotionally unavailable people
Believing that you have to be in a romantic relationship before you your life feels meaningful
Trying to control another’s behavior
Feeling incapable of ending a harmful or toxic relationship
Trying to please everyone even though you know you’ll feel resentful
Not taking time for yourself, or ignoring your self-care
Fearing for another’s safety but being willing to risk your safety
Shielding someone from the consequences of their actions
Taking responsibility for how another person feels
Taking responsibility for what another person does
Trying to fix someone’s problem when they haven’t asked you to
Helping because it makes you feel better
Feeling like your life is full of unwanted drama
Healing codependency
Healing requires acknowledging your pain without letting it define you. Our wounds have left scars that will always be with us. But when we start healing and moving forward, the scars fade over time, hurting less, becoming less obvious, and we can truly heal and move forward. Healthy coping mechanisms help us to make sense of confusing or threatening life experiences and to respond appropriately in wholesome ways. When we use healthy coping skills, we’re able to “reframe” unpleasant events in a way that is healthier for us and feels better too. Reframing is a step in the healing process.
When we’re free of codependent thinking and coping, we will understand and accept that we’re separate and complete beings. We have a strong sense of self, and our boundaries are squarely in place. We feel comfortable continuing to set new boundaries that keep us healthy, happy, and safe. We don’t feel any need to justify, explain, or make sense of another person’s behavior, to ourselves or anyone else. We understand that other’s choices and actions are their responsibility, not ours. People are entitled to have thoughts and feelings about you that are incorrect. It’s not your job to correct their thinking. They will see you the way they see you. If you argue with them, defend yourself or get emotional, you will become drained, while they are being recharged.
Once you have healthy boundaries in place, you will experience a shift in your emotions. You may start to notice that your sense of safety, security, and control, no longer need to come from people-pleasing and manipulating outcomes. Instead, they’ll come from your boundaries.
Living as a codependent means that we’re not going to get our needs met, yet asking for anything on our own behalf feels wrong, imposing, excessive, or selfish. We’re afraid of dissatisfying others. If we disappoint anyone, it often leads to feeling guilt and shame, yet we continually look for someone to please. We make excuses for their poor behavior or mistreatment of us, minimizing the pain they cause. Holding on to this mindset and behavior pattern will attract dysfunctional people to us.
It helps to take a pretty deep and fearless dive into what’s actually going on with our thoughts and behavior. When I was ready, I began looking at how I chose to spend my time, noticing who benefited from it and who did not. I started to see it when I took care of others’ needs and ignored or denied my own. I asked myself why I made the choices I did. Little by little, I learned to live in awareness, with intention. (Not always, but more and more often!) My negative self-talk once enforced my belief that everyone’s needs were more important than my own. I started changing the self-talk, and I questioned, then changed, those limiting beliefs.
Some of the other steps I took to break free of codependency in addition to self-awareness were: living in the moment, focusing on one day at a time, building a network of emotionally healthy people and letting go of ones who weren’t, and prioritizing self-care. As I learned to become aware of my codependent thinking and behaving, I was better able to let go of my desire to control outcomes, no matter how good my intentions were. I got comfortable watching friends and loved ones deal with the consequences of their poor choices. I had to sit still and stay uninvolved when they made poor decisions, even if it hurt them or cost them money or relationships. I learned to give them the freedom and dignity to make their own choices and to deal and learn from the outcomes on their own. I learned to stop fixing and rescuing. I learned how to detach with love, set boundaries, and focus on self-care.
Setting boundaries, saying “no,” and letting others learn their life lessons “the hard way” became a few of my goals. I started to see my role in creating trauma bonds, and I learned how to break those bonds. It was a slow, deliberate, and sometimes painful process.
Tools for healing:
Conscious awareness: Be aware and make conscious choices before acting. Self-awareness releases us from making impulsive and potentially damaging decisions.
Self-care: We can only choose to focus on and be responsible for ourselves, our own thoughts, actions, and behavior. The good news is that we can change ourselves with patience, persistence, and practice. We can take responsibility for getting our needs met, instead of waiting for someone to change or meet our needs for us. We are in control of ourselves and no one is responsible for us but us.
Learn about letting go of what you can’t control, by using loving-detachment
More resources to guide you in healing from childhood trauma, abuse, or neglect. Available on Amazon and wherever books are sold. (ebook, audiobook, hardcover, and paperback.)
Like these posts? Want them automatically delivered to your inbox twice monthly?
As a result of growing up in a dysfunctional home, and with the help of professional therapists and continued personal growth, Diane Metcalf has developed strong coping skills and healing strategies. She happily shares those insights with others who want to learn.
Her books and articles are the result of her education, knowledge, personal growth, and insight regarding her childhood experiences and subsequent recovery work.
Diane holds a Master of Science degree in Information Technology and a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology. She has worked in numerous fields including domestic violence and abuse and is an experienced advocate, speaker, and writer about family dysfunction. Currently, she writes about recovery from narcissistic victim syndrome and symptoms of C-PTSD on The Toolbox and has authored three books in the “Lemon Moms” series. Visit her author’s website here.
She is no longer a practicing Social Worker, Counselor, Program Manager, or Advocate.
This website is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional therapy.
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