Getting Off the Ride: Escaping A Narcissistic Mother’s Guilt Trips

How I broke free from my mother’s narcissistic control and found myself along the way.

For so long, I felt that a piece of the puzzle in my life was missing. Something just wasn’t right.

Every friendship I had during my childhood was problematic. Every relationship I had was verbally and emotionally abusive. Once they ended, I found it extremely difficult to move on. I couldn’t understand why.

I began going to therapy to try to get some of these questions answered. It wasn’t until years later that I discovered that the culprit of all of this was right under my nose all along: my mother.

Learning that my mother was narcissistic was a tough pill to swallow.

While growing up, I was constantly reminded of how much my mother sacrificed for me, and I would instantly experience a sense of guilt. She had made me believe that I owed her everything and that she knew best, which included relationships. After all, she had already lived her life.

My mother tried to create a life better for herself than my grandmother’s and she wanted to create a better life for me. I can’t help but look back and start to question, was this all to benefit me or really to benefit her?

She is not the typical “grandiose” narcissist. She hides it very well as most covert ones do. Deep down, she has many insecurities (like we all do) but she is petrified that side of her will be exposed.

From the outside looking in, my mother presents as this charming, friendly, down-to-earth woman that everyone feels an instant connection to. My friends would often praise her saying how lucky I was to have a mother like her. That only made me feel more guilty.

My friends didn’t know what was going on behind closed doors.

My earliest memories of my mother were happy ones. I was the center of her world. We were a team. She found joy in seeing me smile and couldn’t wait to get home from work to spend time with me.

My mother worked full-time at a time when many women in my neighborhood were stay-at-home mothers. When she would take a day off from work, I would be so excited to have her pick me up from school.

This was around the time I started to be reminded that my mother had to work in order to afford to pay for things for me.

Perhaps that is when the guilt started.

In retrospect, it was probably the guilt my mother had for choosing to have a child with a man who was both physically and emotionally unavailable, the guilt that she projected onto me.

Because to her, that would mean she would have to face reality and take responsibility for her actions. It was easier for her to project her feelings onto a child who had no idea what was going on behind the scenes. It allowed her to live in a fantasy.

The Picture Perfect Family

My mother had painted this perfect picture of our family. My parents were married, my father worked from early in the morning until late at night and my mother had to work to supplement income. My maternal grandmother babysat me while my parents were at work.

The truth was there were a lot of secrets she hid from me during my childhood that she had no choice but to disclose to me because I was getting older and becoming increasingly more difficult to manipulate.

This progressed into my teenage years. At school, I was being brutally bullied at a time when I was trying to find my sense of identity. It was a very awkward time and my home life did not make it any easier, to say the least. I was living in a constant state of guilt which resulted in a fear of being confident in my own skin.

These issues were solidified by my stepfather. At home, he teased me constantly about anything: my weight, my looks, my friends, my abilities at home or at school, etc. Nothing about me was off limits. I was never good enough.

When I stuck up for myself, my stepfather would blow up and storm out of the house. My mother would blame me for allowing this to happen, and a sense of guilt would wash over me. The more I tried to advocate for myself, the more guilty I felt. My self-esteem became non-existent.

It spilled into my young adulthood. Every friendship and relationship, abusive or not, I clung to because, to me, it was an opportunity that may never present itself again. I wasn’t worthy of any friendship or relationship for that matter so I should take what I could get.

Breaking Free and Looking Up

While in therapy, I learned what real friendships and relationships were supposed to be, unlike the examples I had while growing up. They were abusive and manipulative.

I began building a foundation of self-worth which attracted better friendships and a better relationship with my now-husband.

This allowed me to see my mother as her true self.

Becoming a mother has made me look at my life more closely and I try my best to not make the same mistakes my mother made. The difference between my mother and myself is that I am okay with knowing that I probably will make mistakes along the way.

My relationship with my mother is a daily struggle, but I’m starting to understand that by not falling for her games, has only weakened her control over me while strengthening mine.

I’ve started participating in passion projects to fulfill some sense of control over my life. This has made me happier than I’ve ever been. I have found the confidence to live my life as autonomously as possible.

As this essay comes to an end, I can’t help but be reminded of a quote from Glinda the Good Witch, from The Wizard of Oz, which I will leave you with: “You’ve always had the power, my dear. You just had to learn it for yourself.”

© Practical Growth 2023

Jaclyn Mistretta Godfrey is an LCSW, therapist, and narcissistic abuse survivor, who wants to help women heal from narcissistic abuse. She also hosts her own Disney World YouTube Channel called “The Magic World of Jackie.”