#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"

[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.

[bitchy-peachy]

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

[tacocat37]

.

[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)

[pumpkin-the-girlie-girl-vixen]

📱 This is the text message I sent my mother, it marked a turning point for me. It was the moment I finally found my backbone and stood up for both myself and my partner. I refused to let her disrupt my peace or tarnish the beautiful life I’ve built without her meddling and undermining my efforts. I won’t allow her to stigmatize my progress and growth any longer. Throughout this journey, I’ve learned that “love” alone isn’t enough to keep someone in your life.

Dear Mom,

I need to set some very clear boundaries regarding our relationship, especially concerning how you speak about my partner. Despite my multiple warnings, you continue to talk negatively about him and try to influence me against him. I want you to understand that he is the best person I’ve ever been with—someone who brings out the best in me that nobody else ever has.

I see parts of you in me, especially when it comes to our struggles. The key difference is that I have been committed to therapy and medication since I was nine years old, and now, at almost 30, I’m still working on myself. You, on the other hand, have never sought therapy and have only taken a fraction of what I have in terms of medication.

I want to be honest: marijuana is not helping you. It exacerbates your BPD, enhancing your worst qualities. There are actual studies that indicate not all medication works for everyone, including marijuana. For the past four months, I haven’t even touched it myself.

Michael is not taking advantage of me; he has not pushed himself into my life or my home. He moved in because we both wanted to share our lives together—something I approached responsibly for the first time. He is a responsible, mature person who supports me, allowing me to feel capable. It’s disappointing that you view me as incapable and irresponsible, while I know my worth and what I bring to the table.

You need to address your erratic moods with medication, just as I do. I suggest therapy not because I think you’re “crazy,” but because I believe it could help you develop social skills, like how to communicate without resorting to name-calling or cursing, which only escalates tensions and doesn’t solve problems.

I’m trying to build my own life and family because I realize I’ve never had the support I needed from the family I was born into. I’ve worked hard to reach this point, and I had hoped to reconnect with you and my family in North Dakota. However, I now see that if I never felt like I belonged, then I won’t find that connection now.

I’m genuinely happy and at peace, doing things I never had the chance to do before, thanks to the positive support from Michael. Building a life requires a support system that believes in you, something I feel is missing from our relationship. A lesson I’ve learned in therapy is that conflict resolution starts with understanding each other’s perspectives, not trying to place blame or prove who is right or wrong.

This difference between us—my commitment to mental health and your refusal to seek help—has led me to back away. I need to distance myself from you, not out of desire, but out of necessity. I’m going to continue living my happy life with Michael, and I’m sad you haven’t taken the opportunity to get to know him. He truly respects me and supports my happiness.

I cannot tolerate being treated like a child or being made to feel inadequate any longer. I’m aware that you see the boys as adults because of their progress, but your perception of me feels stuck, overshadowed by how you view my life through a screen. It’s painful, and I hope you realize your role in that.

I love you, but I can’t allow you to undermine the happiness I’ve found—a happiness that has helped me grow and love myself for the first time. Your words have often made me feel stupid and inadequate, and that’s something I can no longer accept.

I expect that my message will be met with defensiveness, but I need you to take accountability. You’ve chosen not to seek help, while I’m striving to be better every day. Your journey is yours, but I need to focus on mine now. I won’t respond to your messages or phone calls, and I’m stepping back from social media. I’m choosing emotional intelligence for the sake of my peace.

What I want from you is love, and it shouldn’t come with a price tag. I doubt I’ll receive that, but I will still wish you well. Merry Christmas, happy New Year, happy birthday, and all the holidays I’ll miss. This isn’t a choice I wanted to make, but it’s one I need to.

Goodbye, Mom. 🤟

As you might expect, she didn’t receive my text very well… So, in closing, I’m putting my relationship with my mom to rest—for my peace, comfort, and love. ❤️

Navigating the Complexities of My Relationship with My Mother

The relationship between a mother and daughter can often be a beautiful bond, but mine has been a complicated tapestry woven with threads of pain, misunderstanding, and growth. That little girl inside me still exists, a ghost from a time when things with my mom were far from good. She almost had me fooled, weaving a narrative that I was nothing without her, but after everything she put me through, I’ve discovered a strength within myself that I never knew existed.

From a young age, I found myself fighting for a place in my mother’s world, striving to meet expectations that seemed to shift with the changing winds. No matter how much I worked or how desperately I sought acceptance, I felt like I was always falling short. It was an emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual battle that consumed much of my childhood and adult life whenever we interacted. It might not have been all-consuming at once, but as a collective experience, it truly sucked. She brought the flames and put me through hell, teaching me the hard way that I had to learn to fight for myself. And deep down, I think she knows it too. We both know the truths that could be told, but instead, I’ll simply say, “I wish you farewell.”

I can make it on my own now. I’ve learned that I don’t need her in my life; I’ve found a newfound strength that’s empowering. For years, I was the one forgiving her, often without ever hearing an apology in return or seeing any accountability for her actions. It’s astonishing to think that I’ve never witnessed her say sorry to any of my siblings or even to my dad. From the age of nine, she placed me in therapy, and now at 28, I realize the irony. I’ve perfected the art of communication, taking accountability and truly meaning it each time I’ve said I was sorry. Yet, it’s disheartening to realize that while I’ve worked on conflict resolution, she seems to play the role of the menacing, abusive mother with no intention of changing.

She has this uncanny ability to shift blame onto everyone else once things go wrong, ignoring her part in all of it. When it’s clear she’s at fault, she pretends as though it never happened the next day, expecting us to move on as if nothing is amiss. Yet, she holds onto others’ wrongdoings that affect her like a badge of honor, despite her own history of mistakes. I often wonder if she ever forgives herself. If she does, it truly disappoints me.

If I could tell her one thing, it would be this: “He is good, so good. He treats your little girl like a real man should. He makes promises he keeps.” I want her to understand that I’m okay, and that when I watch my baby grow up, I hope she finds the kind of man I’ve found—loving, respectful, gentle, and kind. My partner reminds me of my dad—the morals and values he holds bring me back to the essence of home. If only my mother weren’t so stuck in the past, unable to see that I’ve learned from my mistakes and found someone worthy of my heart.

But the reality is, I can’t get through to her. I never could as a child, and I doubt I’ll be able to as an adult, not without her committing to medication, therapy, and applying what she’s learned. Sadly, it seems she wouldn’t even entertain that notion. In order for me to build the family I’ve always wanted for myself, I’ve had to let go of her. I still visit the memories of our past, but everyone has to grow up.

It pains me to admit that I had to cut her off. She was my first best friend, and for most of my life, I viewed her as the most important person to me. But now, at the age of 28, I’m finally awakening to the truth: “Huh, we are not that close.” The other day, I almost reached for my phone to chit-chat with her, only to remember the reality of our relationship. I set the phone down and sat in silence for a while. I would rather hear nothing than face the hurtful words she’s hurled at me over the years—words no mother should ever say to her daughter.

In conclusion, my relationship with my mother is a complicated one, and while I mourn the bond we could have had, I’m also grateful for the strength I've discovered through the struggles. I’m moving forward and building a life where I can thrive, free from the shadows of a tumultuous past. And for that little girl who still lives inside me, I promise to protect her fiercely from the flames that once consumed us both.

In closing, I want to reflect on the happiness I’ve found with my partner. Despite the attempts to push a negative narrative onto my shoulders, I’ve realized that it’s not the story I’m living. I’m living a life filled with joy, love, and support—something I never thought I could have. I feel incredibly blessed to have my partner by my side, who nurtures my growth and embraces me for who I truly am. Together, we’re building a beautiful future, and I’m grateful every day for the love we share. Here’s to celebrating the life we’re creating together and leaving behind the negativity that no longer serves me!

[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]