#daughters of narcissistic mothers

[youdelight-itolerate]

Whatever today evokes in you is valid. 🖤 "Every family loves differently. Every love is unique."

So, let's just celebrate our Murder MILFs.

[nocontactdiaries]

As a teen, I pooled my money and got my abusive mother a knock-off Pandora bracelet. It was expensive despite being off-brand, and I didn’t have a job- I saved as much as I could to buy one for her. Pandora too much for me to afford, the one I got was identical. 

My mother refused to wear it. She threw it into her least-favourite jewellery box. She wouldn’t even try it on. She demanded jewellery as gifts from people, and from then on, I tried my hardest to buy her real gold, real diamonds- but it was never enough. I could never be enough for her tastes. 

When I was in my mid-20′s, I bought her the real, name-brand Pandora bracelet. One of my siblings insisted that I buy it for my mother, because they’d bought a couple of charms. I was left with the bulk of the cost, and against my better judgement, I bought it. I also got her some gold diamond owl earrings. She liked owls, they were ‘real’ metal and gemstones, surely it’d be enough? 

I think I just wanted any bare scrap of affection, or gratitude, or even acknowledgement. 

My mother told everyone that my sister brought the bracelet. She told everyone that would listen. She told people I bought her “nothing”, that she “got nothing at all from [me]”. People said I was a disgusting daughter, that they couldn’t believe that I did that to my poor mother. They also COULD believe that I’d done something so mean, because my mother had smeared my name so thoroughly, it was seen as “just another [me] thing” to add to the long list of grievances they had against me. 

I went No Contact a few short months later. 

[jounelle]

#daughtersofnarcissisticmothers

Prozac Nation (2001)

[jounelle]

My favorite joke ever was one i read here years ago and lost track of. It said:

Why did my narcissistic mother cross the road?

She thought they were my boundaries.

[valos-venus-doom]

Me and my egg donor's other children rolling up to her funeral like

[asoftepiloguemylove]

Katie Maria / Katherine Fabrizio A Poem From the Adult Daughter to the Narcissistic Mother: Not Your Fault, Not Mine, Just Is / pinterest / Annie Ernaux / Christina Bothwell Incessant Dreamer (2022) / pinterest / pinterest / pinterest

[lostmf]

I wish I could meet you in the street

Maybe one of us will be lost and would stop the other to ask for directions

We will share a laugh on how we are the worst people to ask for directions

You would feel comfortable enough to have coffee with me

I would remind you of your daughter that looks like me

Maybe you would say some kind words about her

Maybe you would ask me for advice on being a better mother

Maybe if I met you as a woman and not a mother we would like each other

I pray that you never know how much you hurt me

I hope you never realize how you tortured and broke me every day

It would kill you mother

I hope you never know

[angelunderheaven]

"you still belong to me"

[bitchy-peachy]

Healing my child soul by NOT HAVING a sewing kit inside this.

[bitikoyku]

In a home where cold indifference finds its place,

A child lights a flame with a fragile grace.

Burning memories of what could have been,

To warmth the heart that once locked within.

Seeking solace in the fire's glow,

A warmth they'd never come to know.

In the crackling grow, they find a space,

A fleeting comfort in the fire's embrace.

[nocontactdiaries]

Three years ago, I almost died. I have a severe anaphylactic allergy to an ingredient in dyes. I learnt this the hard way- the hospital way. The multiple-doctors-pumping-me-with-meds-to-keep-me-alive sort of way. I didn't tell any biological family that I'd nearly died until a week after getting out of hospital, as I was swollen to the point of being disfigured, and didn't feel like dealing with guests. When I told my father, and explained what it meant for me moving forward and the restrictions I now have to live with, like potentially being unable to get more tattoos in future, he replied with "Good." He himself has an anaphylaxis allergy. He's been hospitalised a couple of times due to his allergy. He knows how terrifying anaphylaxis is. He knows. "Good." Some days the guilt of estrangement is crushing, a huge weight upon my chest, a self-flagellation of shame. I feel so bad for cutting off my elderly father, knowing that he says I am his "purpose in life"- and then some days I remember.

I remember that he tried to drown me as a child. I remember the drug and alcohol abuse that featured through most of my childhood. I remember the physical violence he inflicted. I remember that he didn't come visit me after I'd told him that I'd nearly died. He didn't even ask how I was feeling. He didn't call to check up on me. He didn't ask how I was healing, or show any empathy at all. I remember that he told me "good." "Good."

[insummerigrieve]

Elizabeth Wurtzel in Prozac Nation (2001)

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

I feel like I'm just going through the motions today. Send me sweet anons or pics of the boys pls. I love y'all.

[fibrefox]

[angelunderheaven]