How Living with a Narcissist Helped Me
The Long Road to Strength and Resistance
I hear the gusts of wind howling through the trees, pushing at the sides of the house, an omen of what’s to come.
And I hear my angelic wind chime singing songs of beauty and serenity despite the turmoil.
When I was a child, my parents were always arguing. It seemed to be nearly every day, and to be honest, I was happy when they divorced. My home was not a happy home.
Oh how I hated their arguing, their fights, watching my dad try every single day to provide for his family - while my mother destroyed everything good that he built.
My mother was the storm. My dad was my wind chime.
A Glimmer of Hope
I remember how often he came home from a long day of work to find the house a mess, dirty laundry piled up high, no homework done for either of his children. Yet he took time to make sure that we did what was necessary.
Work on homework and studying while he cooked and threw in a load of laundry, all the while my mother made us some excuse as to why she hadn’t cared for us or the house.
He would spend his weekends playing Star Trek with us. He had an old camcorder that had the fade out, fade in function. We’d pretend to be exploring some planet, and every time we were ready to beam up, he’d fade out as we stood under a tree… and fade in with us “magically” in the living room. Excuse me, the USS Enterprise.
When it was baseball season, he would toss around the ball with us. Granted, he was a man that hated PE and sports with a passion growing up, but he understood the importance of being healthy. He became a Braves fan in his adulthood, and we would watch the playoffs and the World Series together. (It’s probably one of the reasons why I love watching my stepson play baseball now.)
He was an amazing father despite having so much running against him.
A Man of Integrity
He never lost his integrity, no matter how much she pushed him. She would throw audacious lies into the air, like claiming he hit her… despite the fact that we were there watching her scream at him because he wouldn’t give in. Or she would run to the bathroom and tell the entire townhouse complex (through her screaming) that she was going to kill herself, all to make him look like Satan himself.
The abuse that man endured… it would have been easy for him to turn the tables. And almost anyone would have called it justified.
But he was a man of integrity, of respect, of principle. And he never let us disrespect my mother. No matter how terrible she was to him. If we ever argued with her or talked back, he was there to defend her.
He taught me the same. To always be a woman of integrity, of respect, of principle. And not to “demand” respect, but to be worthy of respect. One of his favorite phrases when I would be angry with his decisions and his grounding was,
“you may not like me right now but you will respect me”.
Of course, as with most kids, once I calmed down and realized that his grounding was necessary, we would go back to being the best Father-Daughter Duo in the world.
The only thing I didn’t learn early on was how to be firm against the narcissists in my life, because he frequently allowed her to use and abuse him. All the way until his final days.
The Tables Finally Turned
Oddly enough, it was my mother that taught me to refuse to be manipulated, belittled, or a pawn in any game. As I grew older and became more mature, I realized that all of her lies, every attempt to alienate me against my father and my stepmother, were deeply rooted in the selfish, narcissistic, entitled character that was my mother.
And every moment that she spent attempting to appear the victim while she tore apart the name of a good man did not gain her the love, admiration, and attention that she craved for all those years.
No, it did the opposite, driving me away until I no longer felt anything for her. No pity. No empathy. Not even love. She had driven away the only decent child that she had and left herself with the child that she raised to be just like her.
Karma has a way of coming around. And she’s always on time.
Yes, I had learned how to cut ties with anyone who dared to manipulate me.
Stronger and Resistant
You see, for me, I have lived for almost 40 years witnessing the destruction of a narcissist firsthand. A woman that would weaponize her children just to get her way, destroy her husband’s earnings just for a quick whim or an impulsive purchase, and lie through blood-stained teeth that she would never do XYZ.
I am no longer the child that once clung to the words built to misguide me. Nor the teen that believed that family was all-important.
The struggles of my father and of my own life have not broken me but have made me stronger. Wiser. More aware.
I can see manipulation and narcissism quickly when getting to know someone. I do not allow myself to be talked down to, insulted, used as a pawn, or disrespected.
I hold my head high, knowing that I never have to stoop to their level in order to get ahead in life. Instead, I follow in my father’s footsteps - working hard, improving myself, my education, my circumstances.
The harder road is the most beautiful journey and the destination worth every obstacle.
A Reminder
I remember my wind chime when the storms start to rise. And become a wind chime for others.
When you’re in your storm, facing any adversary, whether it be divorce, job loss, health concerns, whatever it is, look for your wind chime.
Face the storm head on and remember that good will come out of it all. You may not see it for a while, and my goodness… those storms can rage on for years… but follow your wind chime, and keep your head high. One day, the storms will not affect you like they once did. You will not stumble. You will come out thriving.
Even though the night is dark, the cold nipping at our fingers and toes, our wind chime reminds us of the wonder, the sweet moments, the joy, and the strength that can be found in the storms.
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