Dear GoodTherapy.org,

My mom is nearing 70. She was widowed four years ago, and ever since then she seems to have given up on life. She barely leaves her house, doesn’t want to socialize or make friends, and has even started smoking again, despite being a lung cancer survivor. She falls asleep in her chair at 3 a.m., sleeps until after noon, feeds her dogs, then watches TV the rest of the day and night. She used to love cooking; now she eats cereal for dinner half the time. She used to love sewing; her sewing machine is collecting dust. She used to have many friends; some have died off, some are out of state, and she has no motivation to seek more. Yet she professes that she is lonely. Well, do something about it! Instead, she relies more on her children and guilt trips us if we don’t meet her needs—if we don’t call all the time or visit, to her we don’t care. (None of her kids live within an hour’s drive and we all have demanding jobs and families.)

[fat_widget_right]

I’ve done some reading and I think she’s clearly depressed. I know she feels like her life has been gutted now that her husband isn’t in it. She has no one to take care of anymore, and probably feels a lack of purpose. That’s why my siblings and I are so adamant that finding one would be in her best interests: volunteer, go to church … something! But she refuses.

I really think therapy would benefit her, but (as you might imagine) she is opposed to the idea, saying there is nothing wrong with her. I tried to tell her that going to therapy doesn’t mean there’s necessarily something wrong with her, that it can support her healing from her grief and move on with her life, but she just isn’t buying it. I tell her that moving forward and living her life is what her husband would have wanted, and she agrees, but nothing ever happens. She is very set in her ways. I feel helpless, like I am watching my mother die right before my eyes. And I am angry she won’t help herself, since she is the only one who can. Any suggestions or advice for me? —Helpless Here

Dear Helpless,

The sadness, anger, and helplessness you feel are palpable. You are clearly very concerned about your mother, and based on your description of her, it does seem possible she is depressed and she might very well benefit from therapy. You can see all of this quite clearly, but she cannot—and that must be quite frustrating for you.

I imagine the feeling of “watching your mother die right before your eyes” evokes many feelings, even beyond feelings of concern for your mother’s health and well-being. You are likely dealing with your own feelings of loss of the woman your mother once was, and looking to the future with concern about your actual loss of her through death.

I wonder if engaging in your own therapy could be helpful for you. I imagine the feeling of “watching your mother die right before your eyes” evokes many feelings, even beyond feelings of concern for your mother’s health and well-being. You are likely dealing with your own feelings of loss of the woman your mother once was, and looking to the future with concern about your actual loss of her through death. Sometimes, these kinds of experiences can also raise feelings about your own mortality.

It also sounds like you are trying to change your mother’s behavior. While it is certainly understandable to want better for her, you cannot force her to do anything. Trying to force someone to do something, even if it is something that would be good for them, is almost always a recipe for frustration. Engaging in your own therapy might be helpful in accepting that no matter what you do, your mom might not seek therapy or take steps to heal. Once you accept that you cannot make your mom get well, you may be better able to identify what you can do to help her, and more comfortable stopping there and leaving it in her hands.

It sounds like your mom is expecting you and your siblings to do a lot, maybe more than is reasonable. When you’re unable to be what she needs at any given time, the “guilt-tripping” you describe can be a lot to bear. If you do, in fact, feel any guilt—reasonably or otherwise—therapy may also help you deal with that, along with any resentment the guilt-tripping behavior might elicit.

Finally, engaging in your own therapy might be helpful for your mom, too. You could be a good model of a healthy, functional person seeking therapy simply because you are struggling through a difficult life situation and trying to find ways to cope with it. You could talk to her about the value you find in therapy and how it helps you. She might even see it in potential changes in the way you relate to her.

I wish you peace and healing in this very difficult time.

Best wishes,

Sarah

People pleasing is a way to reduce anxiety and eliminate stress. Some please to assure good feelings that come with positive responses like being approved of, admired, praised, or respected. Others please because of strong needs to avoid bad feelings that occur when, for example, others criticize, complain, or become angry. But there are some people who are not typical people pleasers. Instead, they live with intense anxiety that if they don’t behave in ways that elicit strong approval and avoid disapproval from others, the consequences will destroy their sense of well-being and safety. These are what I will refer to, for the purposes of this article, as terrified people pleasers.

Relationships and Terrified People Pleasers

Terrified people pleasers view the world as an impending source of danger. They tend to see relationships much like earthquakes and hurricanes: at any time, often with little warning, attachment to others can wreak great destruction in their lives. Vigilance and compliance become guidelines for safety.

Samantha walked into my office, and before I could ask, “What brings you here?” I found myself in the presence of an avalanche of feelings from someone who seemed to be a very angry, upset, frightened woman.

[fat_widget_right]

“This is it. I can’t take it anymore,” she said. “All my friends are never available and selfish. I’m 63 years old, and I’m going to die alone. I’ve been seeing Marty on and off for 10 years, and he’s like everyone else: self-involved, stubborn, unloving or loving depending on his mood. I tell you, it’s enough! I’m so good to everyone, and they get what they want. I’m afraid to do things and be on my own, and I have to rely on people who always have time for each other but not for me. I’m tired of being angry and depressed and giving everyone what they want. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t seem to enjoy anything. No one likes me, and I hate everyone.”

It would take many months for me to understand the narrative of Samantha’s life. In our early sessions, Samantha described her anger and unhappiness with her friends who didn’t appreciate how she was always there for them and never reciprocated. She described taking them to dinner, helping them move into apartments, visiting when they were sick: “I did all the things a good friend does. Do you think I really wanted to be so helpful and attentive? No, I didn’t. But I felt that I had to be the perfect friend or they would all drop me. I sort of feel dropped anyway. No one ever offers to help me with anything.”

Samantha repeats this pattern of behavior with Marty: “I always work hard to figure out what he wants, and I work very hard to provide it even when I want to say ‘no.’ Then I resent him, but I’m scared he’ll leave me if I ask for anything. So for the last 10 years, our relationship has been crazy in and out. We date, we’re lovers, we’re friends, we stop seeing each other for a while, and then it starts all over again. Mostly, I freak out if either one of us gets angry. I always worry he’s going to be critical or distant, and I‘m never sure if I want him to stay or leave, but I get panic attacks if I think he wants to leave.”

When we explored this experience that felt so one-sided, it became apparent Samantha never asked friends for help or indicated any wish to be celebrated: “I don’t know, I guess it never feels okay to ask for anything. I’m afraid they’ll say no, and I’ll feel hurt and angry. I think I really have the feeling that they don’t want to please me like I don’t really want to please them. But I have no choice. I have to do it or I’ll be hurt and alone.”

Family Origins and Terrified People Pleasing

As her story unfolded, I could visualize the frightened little girl who had been designated by her father to be responsible for her mother. Although never medically diagnosed, I believe Samantha’s mother was probably bipolar. She describes a mother of unpredictable extremes: the mother who danced around the kitchen was funny, silly, all hugs, and the mother who stayed in bed, was silent or angry, and made several suicide attempts. Her father, a rarely present man who worked too much, praised Samantha for taking good care of her mother and would tell her, “You’re my good girl doing your job for us to make sure mommy is okay.”

Her father and her brother, older by three years, were emotionally detached from Samantha and her mother. Samantha recalled, “I was 12. It was the second time my mother tried to kill herself. I found her in bed with an empty bottle of pills, hardly breathing. I called 911 and my father. I don’t know where my brother was. My father told me to go in the ambulance with my mother and stay with her. He told me what a good girl I was. I don’t remember if he came to the hospital. He must have come to take me home. I just remember feeling so alone. I also felt so good that I made my father happy. There wasn’t much I could do to get that feeling.”

Much like the experience with her parents, her compliance resulted only in the transient feeling of being loved. From day to day and perhaps minute to minute, Samantha could not depend on her parents for reliable and consistent loving feelings. How could she trust anyone to love her or want to be with her?

I learned that Samantha craved the feeling of being the good girl and feeling that her mother and father loved her: “There wasn’t much I could do that would make me feel my father loved me. It looked like he loved my brother, who he did things with and joked with. He didn’t talk with me much except when he would ask about mom and how she was doing. I could get wonderful, loving feelings from my mother. I knew just what to do. I’d come home early to be with her after school. I never brought friends home. I thought she’d be mad that I wasn’t totally there for her, but I also didn’t want them to see how she was. I knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t put it into words. What was so scary for me was I’d never know which mother I would encounter on any day. She could be funny and hug and love me, or depressed and silent and absent. I’d feel so abandoned and then helpless to figure out how to make her happy and get her back so she could love me.”

One day, Samantha came to her session looking agitated. She told me: “I need to tell you about something. This is the memory I can’t get out of my head. It’s excruciating.” She burst into sobs: “I was terrified every day that she would kill herself. She did. In my senior year, I was talking about going to the local college, and I felt she was upset with me. I don’t know if that’s true, but I was afraid I was abandoning her. I thought maybe she and my father would be mad that I might not still be able to watch over her. In February of my senior year, I came home on a cold, snowy day. She wasn’t in the kitchen, and I felt that scary feeling I always got when she was in the bedroom when I got home. I went upstairs to her room and I knew as soon as I opened the door. I can’t say any more.”

Samantha learned very early that her behavior could lead to terrifying consequences: In order to feel safe, it was required that she make her parents happy. The dread of making them unhappy created panic and terror. Her detached father gave her the feelings of being valued, loved, and connected only if she played her ascribed role of caring for her mother’s emotional life and keeping her alive. Her mother’s erratic and unpredictable emotional life made it difficult for Samantha to feel she had any ability to know, predictably, how to please her mother.

Samantha had no space to develop an identity other than “the daughter who pleases her parents.” Separation and individuation were not an option, as it was too dangerous to think about her own wishes, needs, and desires.

Ambivalent Anxious Attachment

Samantha’s inability to make satisfying attachments to the people in her life mirrored her early attachments in her family. Perhaps the best categorization of Samantha’s attachment style is “ambivalent anxious attachment.” In this kind of attachment, the connection is characterized by mistrust and worry, but the need for the attachment is nevertheless intense. This pattern of attachment repeats itself in Samantha’s friendships and in her relationship with Marty. Even when wanting to say “no” to their wishes, desires, and perspectives, she always agreed. Much like the experience with her parents, her compliance resulted only in the transient feeling of being loved. From day to day and perhaps minute to minute, Samantha could not depend on her parents for reliable and consistent loving feelings. How could she trust anyone to love her or want to be with her?

Samantha has begun to understand how she repeats her early attachment style. She is learning to use thinking to override the terror and panic which emerge when she starts to feel that Marty is angry with her or a best friend doesn’t return texts or invite her to social events. This awareness is helping to diminish the degree of anxiety that occurs when she feels she’s being abandoned. She also is starting to see that her anger is evoked when she is suspicious about what people think of her and want from her.

Samantha is struggling. But she is committed to working at making changes in her patterns of attachment. As she alters her expectations and reactions to the people in her life, I expect they will respond to her in new ways. She has become increasingly able, in the moment, to consider that her assessments of her relationships based on historical responses are likely to need revision. As we continue to work, I believe she will continue to strengthen the power of her thinking so she can override acting on her feelings. Significantly, Samantha is developing a positive sense of self which can consider that she is making progress. She is.

Note: To protect privacy, names in the preceding article have been changed and the dialogues described are a composite.

Dear GoodTherapy.org,

My oldest child is 7, and many of his friends receive an allowance from their parents for doing chores around the house. I never gave the idea of an allowance much thought, as I didn’t receive an allowance for chores as a kid and don’t personally feel it’s necessary. But seeing his peers spend money and buy things for themselves (nothing major, just small toys or candy) makes my son want the same freedom. Plus, I’m facing a shocking amount of criticism from other parents in my son’s friend circle. I had no idea this was such a contentious issue! Those parents all say that giving an allowance teaches kids the importance of earning money through hard work, as well as the value of saving money, spending it wisely, etc.

[fat_widget_right]

Of course, like any parent, I do see the merit of providing an incentive for tasks, especially when so often it’s like pulling teeth to even get them to put a dish in the sink. But I also feel strongly that chores are not the type of labor that deserves a reward, since contributing to household duties is something they will have to do their whole lives without compensation. In many ways, I feel like offering an allowance is instilling in them the idea that they’re entitled to payment for doing chores that are not above and beyond the scope of expected responsibilities.

Is there an argument for or against an allowance from a long-term mental health standpoint? Or is there a certain age when it’s better to introduce an allowance system? I know in the grand scheme of parenting the issue of an allowance, either issued or withheld, probably will not “make or break” a kid. Just curious whether you have any insights about lasting lessons a child might learn one way or the other. Thanks! —Raincheck, Please

Dear Raincheck,

This is such a great parenting question!

The first part I’d like to address is the criticism you are getting from peers. You are entitled to make parenting choices that work for you and your family that are aligned with your family’s unique values. The judgment you are feeling from the other parents is unfortunate—and ultimately their issue, not yours.

I’d also like to separate the two issues of chores and allowance. Chores are great for kids, assuming they are age-appropriate. They teach competence, life skills, and the importance of contributing to the family (something that combats entitlement and enhances gratitude). It is absolutely okay to expect your children, even as young as 3 or 4, to contribute to the household by picking up, feeding animals, setting and clearing the table, and other achievable tasks.

You are also correct that combining allowance and chores can be problematic. It shifts the focus from contributing to the family as an expectation, or social relationship, to a fee for service, or business relationship. What happens if your child feels he doesn’t need the money? Does that excuse him from feeding the dog? Combining the two also runs the risk of fostering a sense of entitlement—I’ve heard many kids, when asked to do something for their parents, ask, “What will you give me?” If they have been trained to believe task equals payment, this reaction is to be expected.

The allowance does not have to be exorbitant. It does not need to match what your child’s peers are getting. There will be plenty of times over the course of your parenting life when your children will compare their treatment to that of their peers (today, allowance—soon, phones and cars). You are under no obligation to match what their peers or peers’ parents are doing.

An allowance, however, is also pretty terrific for children. It teaches them the value of money. It gives them some independence. It allows them to contribute financially to gifts for friends or family and feel some pride and ownership. It also encourages them to learn about decision-making and delayed gratification. If they want a toy that costs $15, do they want to spend their savings on trinkets that cost $2,if they know it will delay their ultimate goal?

Allowances also encourage conversations about values. Some parents set up a system by which kids put money in spend-save-share jars. The share part is for donating to a cause of their choice. If that is something you want to encourage, there’s no better way to teach that lesson than having them involved in deciding what to give and to whom.

The allowance does not have to be exorbitant. It does not need to match what your child’s peers are getting. There will be plenty of times over the course of your parenting life when your children will compare their treatment to that of their peers (today, allowance—soon, phones and cars). You are under no obligation to match what their peers or peers’ parents are doing. However, conversations with your children about why you are making the decisions you are making will help them develop a keener understanding of your family values and priorities.

[amazon_affiliate]

I hear your struggle with incentivizing chores. Some parents choose to make chores a basic expectation (this is what we do). Failing to meet those expectations results in losses of privileges (screen time, dessert, play dates, etc.). There are also ways to encourage chores by instilling in your children a sense of pride of accomplishment. Letting my son hear me brag to friends and family about how well he did his “jobs” without prompting has accomplished far more than any sticker chart or reward system ever did.

You are right that this is not a “make-or-break” kind of parenting decision. It is, however, a tremendous opportunity to intentionally foster the skills and values you hope your children will possess as adults. If you want to read more about this topic, there’s a fantastic book by Ron Lieber called The Opposite of Spoiled. It delves into all of this and more and is incredibly informative and accessible.

Best of luck,

Erika

People with narcissistic qualities tend to view life in black-and-white: a world of only losers and winners, victims and victimizers. They loathe feeling like losers or victims. In the case of parents with narcissism, they often shunt those roles onto their children.

Why? Because people with narcissism need to be fed. A person with extreme narcissistic tendencies is like a balloon with a hole, endlessly leaking esteem, always needing a refill. Such a person’s air supply: attention. And who better to provide attention than the captive audience of one’s children?

If you had a parent with narcissism, you may have been trained to focus not on your own feelings and needs, but rather on those of your parent. Parents with narcissism may wheedle, confuse, or bully you into attending to them, ignoring their lies, and tiptoeing around their vulnerabilities. They generally need your life to be about them. Some people with narcissism, feeling empty at their core and lacking a healthy sense of self, may steal from your very relationship with yourself.

But you aren’t a child anymore. You have power and options you never had as a child. Here are six ways you can take back your life after a narcissistic upbringing:

[fat_widget_right]

1. See Beyond the Narcissistic Facade

People with narcissism tend to be pretenders. Dwelling in a cyclone of shame, they live in mortal terror of anybody saying the emperor has no clothes. They fear being seen as flawed or ignorant and hate feeling powerless or embarrassed. These fears tend to drive their behavior. To avoid feeling flawed, they have to be the best and insist on perfection from others. To avoid feeling ignorant, they act like know-it-alls and rarely admit they are wrong. To avoid feeling powerless, they act larger than life. And when they feel embarrassed, their volcanic rage may erupt, burying anyone in their path.

When you know this, you can see what drives their outlandish behaviors. You don’t have to take it personally, wondering what you did wrong.

2. Identify Distortions and Double Standards

When people with narcissism make a mistake, they tend to blame others. When you make a mistake, they blame you. When they succeed, they cite their superior character. When you succeed—thus temporarily stealing the spotlight they so crave—they may take credit for your success, call it a fluke, or diminish it by pointing out other times you have failed.

People with narcissism tend to distract and disguise. Like kids caught with their hands in the candy jar, they may try to confuse, belittle, bully, or otherwise avoid responsibility for their actions.

Don’t be taken in. Pay attention to what they do, not what they say. Their words are often attempts to throw you off and make you feel small or doubtful while making themselves feel big. Their arguments are generally not to be taken seriously or even responded to, because if you refute one argument, they may simply come up with another and another.

When they are abusive, manipulative, or withholding, see it for what it is. They are using you to avoid their own issues and satisfy their urges. They may feel entitled to do so. This is not healthy. Nobody is entitled to abuse or use another.

3. If You Are Drawn to People with Narcissistic Qualities, Be Clear About Why

If you have been drawn to people with narcissism, it may be because it is simply a familiar dynamic. But it can also reflect an unconscious hope that if you can find a person with narcissistic tendencies who happens to treat you well, it will make up for what you didn’t get years ago from a parent with narcissism. It is an understandable wish. Yet relationships with people with narcissism are often disappointing and superficial because people with narcissism generally don’t care about treating others well.

You don’t have to deny your desire for justice, validation, or reparation. But you can never get back lost years, nor are you likely to get an apology.

If you feel unfulfilled in a relationship or wonder if a friend or partner has narcissism, ask yourself why you are with them. Do you hope to change or reform them? Do you hope someday they will see how good you are and mend their ways? Pursuing relationships with people with narcissism may simply postpone facing the painful recognition that your parent couldn’t be there for you. Accepting and mourning that unfortunate truth can allow you to focus on what is best for you and pick healthier relationships.

You don’t have to deny your desire for justice, validation, or reparation. But you can never get back lost years, nor are you likely to get an apology. You will almost certainly never be rescued if you wait for it. The only person who can make it right is you, by your choices and by how you treat and view yourself.

4. Use Your Voice

Let’s say, for example, you give a person with narcissism a holiday gift, and they give you nothing. The person with narcissism then says something like, “You’re just trying to make me feel guilty because I didn’t get you anything.” This is classic narcissistic behavior, shifting the attention to you and putting you on the defensive. Simply knowing they are doing this may be enough to help you gain perspective, and you might choose to say nothing. But if you feel that you are shrinking in stature, you may feel better about yourself by speaking up. For example, in a situation like this you could:

1. Confront it by saying, “No, that is not why I gave it to you. But now that you mention it, do you feel guilty for not giving me anything?”
2. Use humor by taking their accusation about you trying to make them feel guilty and saying something like, “Well, is it working?”
3. Be honest and direct by saying, “No, I gave you a card because I wanted to. And now that you mention it, I do feel hurt that you didn’t give me anything.”

Remember, hard as they may try, people with narcissism can never take away your truth, experience, or feelings. They can dispute it, threaten you, and deny it, but they cannot make you give it up. They are projecting on you what they can’t feel in themselves. Don’t take it on.

5. Seek Balance

Being raised by a person with narcissism can throw your life out of balance. One way to regain healthy balance is to do the opposite of what your parents did. For example:

• If you received much criticism and scant praise, you may need to sidestep criticism (including self-criticism) and increase self-acknowledgment.
• If you have been compulsively driving yourself in reaction to people with narcissism who called you lazy, you may want to slow down and focus on quality of life. Conversely, if you have been underperforming in reaction to pressure from people with narcissism, you may want to push yourself beyond your present comfort level.
• If you have felt deprived, allow yourself to desire and receive more.
• If you were not allowed to say no or point out what was wrong, you may need to spend time saying no and focusing on what should change in your relationship, family, workplace, or society.
• If you have been giving people with narcissistic qualities the benefit of the doubt to your own detriment, you may want to start questioning their actions and believe in yourself, perhaps seeking the guidance of a trusted therapist or friend as you do so.

6. Trust Yourself

Your parents may have shamed you when you experimented, asked questions, or expressed your views. This may have led you as a child to become more dependent on them or alienated from yourself. Even in adulthood, you may second-guess yourself, struggle to make decisions, and shy away from taking risks that could enhance your life.

When you have to make a decision or when a challenge arises, ask yourself, “If I knew I was absolutely trustworthy, what would I do?” Then assess how you can make that happen. By assuming you are trustworthy, that your feelings are valuable, and that your intuition is reliable, you can see that you have within yourself all you need to handle challenges—despite what your parents may have tried to make you believe.

If you were raised by a parent with narcissism, you are not alone. Millions of adults have had a parent with narcissistic tendencies. No matter how you were treated as a child, you deserve to be seen, heard, and do what is healthiest for you.

Dear GoodTherapy.org,

I’ve been seeing this wonderful girl for over three years now, and my parents still have not warmed up to her. She and I are a perfect fit, very compatible, but not too similar. We introduce one another to new experiences, resolve our differences pretty well, and have fun together. It seems like the only piece missing is the fact my parents—whole family, really—don’t approve. They’re nice enough when we’re all together and have never been cruel to her outright, but my sister has made comments on the side about how I “could do better,” and my dad says vaguely insulting things like, “I always pictured you with someone … different.” I’ve also heard them mock her voice and make some jokes at her expense.

[fat_widget_right]

I’ve never asked what, exactly, they find fault with, but if I had to register a guess it would be that my girlfriend didn’t go to college and has a nontraditional job. She’s not a deadbeat, by any means, and she’s still one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. She just doesn’t fit their view of what a well-educated person on a definite career track looks like. Otherwise, she blends very well with my family in terms of humor, ideology, political beliefs—pretty much any category that actually matters.

I really, really want to marry this woman, and could see myself popping the question in the next six months to a year, except that I desperately want my family on my side when I do. We’re a relatively small, tight-knit group, and it’s important to me that they at least see my love for her and understand she’s here to stay. Does this require a family meeting-type scenario to iron out our differences? Or should I just forge ahead and hope they jump on board and become supportive soon? —Meet the Mockers

Submit Your Own Question to a Therapist

Dear Mockers,

This is quite the dilemma. It sounds like you have found a partner with whom you’d like to build a life. While this is a beautiful thing, it is complicated by your family’s less-than-enthusiastic embrace of her. I imagine this leaves you feeling pulled between the people you love most.

I’m curious about how you have handled the times when your sister declares that you can do better or your dad says he imagined you with someone else. Do you push back against this and let them know this is a woman you love deeply and with whom you can imagine spending your life? If you have not, I wonder if talking to them about how serious you are about this woman and how unacceptable you find their remarks to be would sufficiently address the issue. Perhaps if they knew she was here to stay and you wouldn’t accept them being unkind to her, they would realize they needed to get on board, as you say.

I’m curious about how you have handled the times when your sister declares that you can do better or your dad says he imagined you with someone else. Do you push back against this and let them know this is a woman you love deeply and with whom you can imagine spending your life?

I find myself wondering if your girlfriend is aware of your family’s lukewarm feelings toward her. If she is aware, how does she feel about it? Does this cause any conflict between the two of you in your relationship? If she is aware of their feelings, perhaps a “family meeting-type scenario,” including her, as you suggest could be helpful for everyone involved. You may even want to enlist the help of a family therapist to help everyone talk through the conflict.

I’m also curious about the dynamics in your family. Is your sister in a serious relationship? Are you the first to try to bring someone new into the family? For some families, this can feel threatening in a sense. They might even see her introduction to the scene as a threat to your place in their lives.

Hopefully, through some conversations with your family, possibly including your girlfriend and/or a family therapist, everyone can come together. If not, you might need to decide how to proceed with your relationship with your girlfriend without your family’s support. These situations can be very painful, and you might find it helpful to partner with a therapist to help you process your feelings and determine the best course of action.

Kindly,

Sarah

Within the past several decades, a shift has been observed in the relationship patterns of many mothers and daughters. Many seem to have abandoned the traditional hierarchy of parent and child for a relationship of equals, identifying with each other more as “best friends.” BFF (“best friends forever”) mothers embrace their daughters’ lives, sharing them and, at times, walking in their footsteps.

A close, friendly mother-daughter relationship is not in itself a cause for concern. But when the boundaries of the relationship become blurred, this can lead to confusion regarding the distinct responsibilities and obligations, of both parent and child, over what behaviors are acceptable within the context of the relationship. This confusion may, in turn, may lead to behavior unrestricted by limits, on the part of either mother or daughter.

The New Mother-Daughter Relationship

Research has attempted to explain and explore the variables contributing to these mother-daughter best friend relationships. Authors Linda Perlman Gordon and Susan Morris Shaffer describe in their book, Too Close for Comfort: Questioning the Intimacy of Today’s New Mother-Daughter Relationship, what is referred to as a generation overlap, an intersection of lives that differs from anything seen in previous generations. Mothers and daughters today may shop at the same stores, utilize the same new technology, participate in the same social media apps (and possibly have some of the same friends or followers), and listen to the same music.  [fat_widget_right]

Some believe this generation overlap, and mother-daughter relationships in general, are made easier by a youth-fixated culture. In the article “My Mom Is My BFF,” Paige Williams writes of a stay-young revolution, where women are enticed and encouraged—some might say pressured—to think, act, and look young.  With the widespread availability and broad variety of technology and resources that promise to preserve youth, many mothers may find it fairly simple to recapture their years of young adulthood. And who better to morph with than a daughter, the one who likely most closely resembles their teenage selves?

Having their worlds so closely intertwined has made friendships between mothers and daughters more common than in generations past, something that is not necessarily harmful. After all, who doesn’t want a loving and caring relationship with their mother?

But these friendships may blur the distinctions between parent and child. If mother and daughter are best friends, what happens when the mother tries to parent, to speak out as a mother rather than a friend? Where do the lines get drawn? The danger of opting for the BFF route appears to lie in its potential to minimize, as well as distort, the parent-child relationship. When mothers and daughters are “besties” first and parent and child second, the maternal role—providing direction, support, and the tools needed to become a confident, self-sufficient adult—may be in jeopardy.

Mothers, Daughters, and Dating

Mothers and daughters who enjoy a close bond may share many details about their personal lives, dating details among them.

The dating world has always offered any number of challenges, among them the various rules, cultural norms, and aspects of etiquette often applied to dating individuals, particularly women. Some of these customs differ little from those of generations past, while others may be vastly different or newly established. In many cases, mothers may guide their daughters, using experience to navigate new challenges, as they also struggle with the unspoken rules of dating in a society that may encourage and expect them to balance a semblance of youth with the maternal role.

The current age of reality TV, smartphones, and social media give the term “being connected” a deeper level of meaning, in terms of dating. These technological advances have been shown to impact the development and progression of romantic relationships, but can they also contribute to the development of mother-daughter enmeshment?

Communication patterns between dating young adults today may in some cases differ significantly from those of the previous few decades, and parental involvement in teen and young adult relationships may be both more limited and more casual. Mothers who are friends with their daughters, or who want to be, may try to avoid setting strict rules, whether out of simple trust and support or in order to maintain their daughters’ good favor.

This may lead some mothers to work to become friends with their daughters’ dating partners. Some mothers may even come to act as “surrogate girlfriends,” displaying behavior that is friendly and supportive but may eventually cross the line into impropriety, even as it undermines the significance of their duties as a parent.

Mothers who assume a ‘surrogate girlfriend’ role may:

• Text their daughter’s significant other with random conversations (that go beyond asking for confirmation of whereabouts, etc.).
• Connect with their daughter’s partner on social media platforms regularly.
• Continue communicating with their daughter’s exes after breakups.
• Devote more attention to their daughter’s dating partner than to their adult relationships (their own partner or friends).

The Effects of an Enmeshed Relationship

When the roles of a mother and daughter become entangled, this is described as an enmeshed relationship. In an enmeshed relationship, a mother provides her daughter love and attention but tends to exploit the relationship, fortifying her own needs by living through her daughter. They both grow to depend on this type of arrangement, despite its dysfunction.

Susan Forward and Donna Frazier Glynn, authors of Mothers who Can’t Love: A Healing Guide for Daughters, explained this relationship as one where mothers depend on their daughters to fulfill all their needs for companionship, entertainment and a meaningful sense of identity. They call these mothers “mothers without borders,” as they tend to lack the ability to establish healthy boundaries. [amazon_affiliate]

Enmeshed relationships can have profound effects on daughters as they journey into adulthood. As Forward and Glynn explain, a daughter may not know “where she stops and her mom begins.” This may lead to developmental setbacks in the attempts of daughters to become independent, develop a sense of identity, and express themselves individually.

Enmeshed relationships can have profound effects on daughters as they journey into adulthood. As Forward and Glynn explain, a daughter may not know “where she stops and her mom begins.” This may lead to developmental setbacks in the attempts of daughters to become independent, develop a sense of identity, and express themselves individually. A daughter may also feel uncomfortable and sometimes resentful of her mother’s over-involvement in her dating life, but because the intrusion is often packaged as motherly love, they may give in to the familiar pattern of behavior.

Mothers who have unfulfilled needs, lack a romantic partner, and/or are affected be low self-esteem may look outside themselves to fill what feels empty inside. They may, thus, be more susceptible to the creation of these entangled relationships, especially with regard to the development of a “surrogate girlfriend” role, as connecting with a daughter’s partner may serve as somewhat of a replacement for what they feel is missing or lost.

I encourage daughters and mothers to consider the following:

Daughters, you may form hundreds of friendships and share your stories and life events with countless people. However, you will only have one mother. Enjoy the closeness that comes with this bond and the many ways you can be a part of each other’s worlds. Recognize that a large step for your growth into adulthood is developing the ability to think and respond as an individual. Part of this is having experiences of your own, separate from your mother. You will know your mother-daughter relationship is healthy when you feel safe venturing away from the nest.

Mothers, when you honor and value your role as a mother and demonstrate responsibility, respect, and healthy boundaries, you send the message to your daughter that you are willing to do this tough job because she is worth it. As you model for her not only the role of a mother, but that of a responsible adult, you are at the same time fortifying her self-esteem—and your own.

Gordon and Shaffer interviewed a mother who described it best: “We share best-friend moments, but she is not my best friend, that would rob her of what we really cherish – which is that I am and remain her mother.”

References:

1. Forward, S., & Frazier, D. (2013). Mothers who can’t love: A healing guide for daughters. New York, NY: HarperCollins.
2. Gordon, L. P., & Shaffer, S. M. (2009). Too close for comfort: Questioning the intimacy of today’s new mother-daughter relationship. New York, NY: Berkley Books.
3. Lieberman, D. J., Ph.D. (2010). Setting boundaries with difficult people. Lakewood, NJ: Viter Press.
4. Williams, P. (2012, April 22). My mom is my BFF. New York. Retrieved from http://nymag.com/news/features/mother-daughter-best-friends-2012-4

Maddy: “I hate myself. I’m just like my mother. She always bossed my father around and was so controlling with me and my brother. Now I do the same things with my husband and kids. I don’t know why I can’t stop myself from always telling them the right way to do everything. I’m her all over again.”

Frank: “I feel like a terrible person, no different than my father: so rational and unempathic. Ugh! I hated that about him; how can I be just like him? I don’t like myself when I’m that way, especially with my wife. I know it’s hurtful, but I don’t seem to be able to change.”

Ellen: “I can’t believe I’m doing to my son exactly what my mother did to me. She made me crazy with her anxiety, and now I’m doing that to him. He just graduated, and I insisted he go to a close-by college. I was so worried. I know that was selfish and not best for him. My mother’s worry always limited me. Why didn’t I stop myself from doing the same to him?”

[fat_widget_right]

Maddy, Frank, and Ellen are bewildered when they find themselves repeating relationships with their parents that had a negative impact on them. Consciously, these behaviors feel unwanted and dysfunctional. They don’t wish to inflict the hurt and pain they experienced in their childhoods on their significant others. They recognize the repetition and seem puzzled and unable to understand why they feel helpless to stop.

Ambivalence About Giving up Repetitive ‘Bad’ Behaviors

Each of these individuals consciously expresses self-hate when they recognize they are hurting loved ones in the same way a significant other hurt them in childhood. They identify that their own hurtful behaviors make them feel like bad people, out of control and/or hopelessly mean. Yet they also express ambivalence about changing these behaviors. When we explore and try to make sense of their resistances to change, each person, in their own way, embraces the behaviors of the parent who offended.

Maddy: “I don’t want to be this way, but honestly, it’s hard to imagine giving up control. I really believe I do many things much better than my husband and kids. In the end, I think it’s to their advantage to do it my way.”

Frank: “I know I’m an awful person because it’s so hard for me to appreciate my wife’s feelings. But she’s so irrational. Really—does it make sense that she’s so beside herself when her friend gets annoyed with her? It drives me crazy. I know I should be more caring and understanding, but I really think she needs to get more control of herself.”

Ellen: “I know it’s selfish and wrong that I’m such a worrier and my son has become a worrier. But I’m relieved he’s extra careful and cautious in his life. He said he wanted to go away to college. But I know him, and in my heart I believe he was relieved when I said he had to go to a local school. I think he feels taken care of when I worry.”

These three individuals reflect about their actions in similar ways. Rationalizing, they believe their behaviors are acceptable. At the same time, they attack themselves for repeating with people they love in the present what was hurtful to them in the past. The contradictory notions about the effect of their behaviors make change difficult to embrace.

Even though they rationalize and describe positive outcomes from repeating the behaviors of their parents, they experience bad feelings about themselves when they hurt and create conflict with loved ones. More than experiencing themselves as hurting people they love, the idea that “I’m just like my parent” is anathema. The idea of being “just like my parents” is not simply the feeling of “similar to.” Rather, it feels like “I am my parent.” This unwanted and intolerable experience of self can interfere with feelings of self-confidence and self-esteem and can play a role in the development of anxiety and depression.

With the unending pushes and pulls (between rationalizing and self-attack) to both enact and avoid repeating these old family patterns, stuck-ness in the repetitions and conflicts is solidified.

The Role of the Unconscious

These folks are not aware of any unconscious dynamics that may be keeping them anchored to their untenable positions. But if change is to occur, an understanding of the role of the unconscious in resisting change and perpetuating early parent-child relationships is essential. The aim is to uncover the unconscious meanings of holding onto the status quo and how repeating these behaviors serves each person (even when, consciously, that doesn’t make sense to them).

I will focus on my work with Frank to describe how we explored and became familiar with his unconscious and how that helped him with his conflicts and the repetitions of his early father-son relationship.

When Frank walked into my office, I sensed a man in conflict. He was assertive and self-assured but also vulnerable and defensive. He came into therapy concerned he wasn’t cut out for marriage but wanted to work on making the marriage work.

“I love my son,” he told me. “I suppose I love my wife, too, but I don’t know about me and marriage. If only for my son, I want to make it work. It’s hard to think of her needs. I get contemptuous when she doesn’t do or see things my way. I can be mean. I hate that it makes me feel just like my father. I could never do anything right—right meant doing it his way. He was a bully. I don’t do that with my son. But I bully my wife and I can be condescending with my colleagues at work. I feel horrible when I behave like my father. He made me feel like I was nothing, and now I keep doing it to others.”

If change is to occur, an understanding of the role of the unconscious in resisting change and perpetuating early parent-child relationships is essential. The aim is to uncover the unconscious meanings of holding onto the status quo and how repeating these behaviors serves each person (even when, consciously, that doesn’t make sense to them).

Frank and I spent many sessions talking about his relationship with his father. He was close to his mother, who was also bullied and couldn’t protect him from the onslaught of demeaning and destructive behaviors he encountered. Frank had some ideas about how, because of his father, he became tough and resilient:

“I probably was about 6 and I remember telling myself I would never let him get to me. I’d never cry or give him the satisfaction that he hurt me. I never asked for anything. I left home when I graduated high school and moved to another state. I stayed in touch with my mother, who would always talk about my father. I guess I stayed curious about him. I hated him, but I never stopped wishing he would be nice to me or give me the feeling he cared. On one rare visit, I told him I was doing really well and was getting a CPA, but he didn’t say much. [Sigh.] I wish I could have made an impression on him. He died right after I got my CPA. I hate to admit it, but I never stopped wanting him to be my dad. It’s too late now.”

Frank and I became aware of how conflicted his relationship with his father was. He hated him but appreciated how his behavior drove him to seek recognition by becoming strong, independent, and ambitious. Fundamentally, Frank’s strongest feelings resided in his abiding wish for his father to “be my dad.”

When I asked Frank what “being my dad” meant to him, he was thoughtful, then tearful: “I wish he was a dad like I am. My son knows I love him. I listen to him, praise him, show him affection. I play with him. He knows how important he is to me. I never had any of that.”

The more we talked about Frank and his father, the more in touch Frank became with his longing for a father—a dad. We puzzled over what made it difficult for Frank to let go of the hated father in him. Frank began to wonder: “You and I talk about my unconscious. Maybe my unconscious believes if I hold onto my hated father long enough, I’ll get the dad I so badly want. With my son, I’m not my father, I’m a dad. Now maybe I have to let go of the father in my unconscious and be the ‘dad’ with the people I care about in the world. I sort of get that I’m struggling with this, but I don’t know how to pull it off. Maybe if I could be more of a loving dad with the people in my life, I could let go of the bad dad inside me. Then I might feel better about myself and feel recognized and appreciated in the world. How do I get there?”

Frank was well on his way to getting there when he had the profound recognition of his holding onto his father as a way of trying to experience the dad he had longed for since early childhood. It is not unusual for repetitions of hurtful early parent-child relationships to be repeated in adulthood with the unconscious wish to transform a negative or hated significant other into the idealized parent that the adult continues to long for. The holding onto the destructive parent, by taking on the parental behaviors and repeating them as one’s own, feeds the unconscious wish for having the parent under one’s control, but it doesn’t provide the wished-for, idealized parent.

When one can recognize, as Frank did, that the perpetuation of the hurtful parent doesn’t and will not provide what was missed, it is easier to let go of the repetitions and embrace a more positive role model in one’s own behavior. As a result, more positive self-feelings emerge and facilitate more loving relationships.

Note: To protect privacy, names in the preceding article have been changed and the dialogues described are a composite.

Dear GoodTherapy.org,

I recently attended a family reunion (full disclosure: this was in the deep south) and was horrified to discover how closed-minded and bigoted my parents have become. My family has always been relatively conservative, but this last trip showed their true colors and ignorance. They made blatantly racist remarks, said awful things about LGBT people, and proclaimed their intent to vote against extended rights for minorities.

I was appalled, to say the least, and too shocked to speak articulately on the matter at the time. It’s 2016, and yet I felt I’d entered a time machine and been transported back to 1916!

[fat_widget_right]

Now that the event has passed, I’m still troubled by their elitism and hatred, and I’m left wondering if there’s anything I can do. They live in an echo chamber of their own beliefs—meaning I know their community and friends just reflect their “values.” So I’m not very optimistic about being able to open their minds, let alone change their thought patterns and attitudes. Is it possible? Should I try regardless? In some ways I feel like I’m trying to single-handedly cure people who are addicted, so ingrained are their habits and backward ideals. I wish there were interventions for racism. —In Fairness

Submit Your Own Question to a Therapist

Dear Fairness,

Thank you for reaching out and opening this often-challenging discussion. Family can be both interesting and complicated, and when we add in hot topic discussions they become even more so.

While I deeply appreciate your desire to affect change in your family, attempting to change a deeply ingrained belief system is very challenging. As you noted, these particular family members are in an environment where those who share those beliefs surround them. When that is the case, it is extremely difficult for anything other than those beliefs to stand. In fact, there is a theory called “confirmation bias” that shows people tend to look for and interpret information in a way that supports their beliefs; anything coming their way that contradicts that may not matter.

The only thing we really have power over is ourselves. While we may attempt to impact the world and those around us, we are responsible only for our own actions. Really, no matter how hard you try, you are not responsible for “curing” them or changing their minds, thought patterns, or beliefs. The best you can do is to offer the information to them; what they do with it is in their hands. If you try to take on the burden of changing your family system, you are assuming responsibility for something that is not yours—and that is an unrealistic burden to carry.

There is a saying that being a helper is like being a lighthouse—the lighthouse just stands and shines and doesn’t go chasing boats to save. I suggest you be a lighthouse in your family and shine with justice, kindness, love, and acceptance for all people.

My suggestion is to offer the information to your family without the expectation that they can integrate it, accept it, or that it will change their beliefs. You can be a beacon of light in your family of acceptance and more progressive values, but also know that openly stating your beliefs may put you at odds with your family. You may face criticism and ridicule for stating your beliefs. Only you can determine if that’s something you’re willing to deal with in order to be a force of change. There is a chance your efforts will yield nothing, but there is a chance that others may be impacted. The trick is being able to go forward without expectations and without feeling as though changing your family is your job.

There is a saying that being a helper is like being a lighthouse—the lighthouse just stands and shines and doesn’t go chasing boats to save. I suggest you be a lighthouse in your family and shine with justice, kindness, love, and acceptance for all people. As you do so, your very presence may illuminate the dark places. When you hear your family members saying things that are racist, bigoted, or something along those lines, find ways to gently confront it. One way to call it out is when someone makes a racist, sexist, or bigoted joke, say, “I don’t get it. Can you please explain?” That way, they are forced to explicitly explain the “humor” behind the “joke,” revealing the issue. When you adopt this stance, you are not being confrontational while still illuminating the issue.

Most of all, be gentle with them and yourself. These types of thought patterns go way back and can be hard to change. While it is always worthwhile to challenge the status quo, also consider some ways in which you can make a difference for future generations. Maybe you can’t change old ways in your family, but you can work to impact how the newer generation sees the world. I’d like to commend you for your awareness and for your willingness to serve as an ally. We need more allies in this world, and your efforts are noticed and appreciated.

Sincerely,

Lisa

“I feel like such a bad person.”

I have heard this sad statement from so many people who come to treatment struggling with terrible feelings about themselves. Typically, these “bad person” feelings are about having thoughts, wishes, or behaviors that have (or could potentially have) a negative impact on others, especially significant others. In order to fend off these feelings, people have lived their lives trying to prevent the experience that they are the cause of someone’s unwanted feelings: it is intolerable to consider that some statement they made or action they took could cause hurt, anger, disappointment, or any negative feeling. Such unacceptable reactions are “proof” that they have caused harm and are thus bad.

Expectations for behavior in families are learned early. When standards are dichotomized into either good or bad, children come to characterize not only their behaviors, but their personhood, as good or bad. For optimum development, children need positive responses from their parents. Reciprocal feelings of pleasing, loving, admiring, delighting in, kindness, etc., between parent and child are building blocks for self-esteem and self-confidence.

[fat_widget_right]

In some families, “being good” is the only way to assure the receipt of positive feelings. But positive feelings are not enough for development into people who know themselves and are not fearful of relationships in the world. Children also need to learn to tolerate and manage negative feelings, both when they are directed toward the child and when the child wishes to express them to others. Children are seriously disadvantaged when parental expectations require them to have only positive feelings and ideas toward parents. If all negative expression to a parent is unacceptable or seen as harmful or destructive, the child must be vigilant: it becomes necessary to safeguard their internal world either by containing any negative feelings or by dissociating these feelings, creating unconscious certainty that they will not inadvertently be expressed. Any sense of oneself as harboring negative feelings toward a parent runs the risk of “bad person” feelings.

The Need to Excuse Parents’ Behaviors

The three people I am about to describe are struggling with the emergence of negative thoughts and feelings toward a parent. These intolerable feelings and the growing awareness that their reactions to parents (e.g., hurt or disappointment) may have some legitimacy create anxieties they are unprepared to deal with. One method for defusing the discomfort is to conceptualize the parent’s behavior in a context that makes the behavior rationally understandable and therefore acceptable. The rationales essentially excuse parents’ behaviors so that the person in therapy can disavow their own “bad person” feelings. Often, anxiety about their own negative thoughts or feelings toward a parent begins or is exacerbated when another significant other expresses negativity toward the parent.

Conrad has described how difficult his work life has been. He has little ability to take initiative at work or in his relationship with his wife. In general, he has trouble asserting himself in the world and struggles to think about what he wants and how to get it. This makes considering different work or how to better his relationships problematic. He lacks self-esteem and is vulnerable to feeling like he has done something wrong.

Conrad is remembering how his mother talked to him about his major in college: “She was always so helpful. She told me I was good at art, but I had to be practical and plan for a career which would enable me to take care of a family. I listened to her and went into finance. Ten years later, as you know, I hate my work, but I know she was only thinking of me. She lived through hard times as a kid, so my being secure financially is especially important to her. She only wanted what was best for me, and I can’t bear to feel that I cause her pain or disappoint her. I would feel so mean.”

Allowing the emergence of previously intolerable and unwanted feelings provides tools—not only for developing the self, but for the development of the self in relationship. Knowledge of feelings is a tool which can help address internal and external conflict. This means one has new and more information to decide both how and, sometimes more importantly, if to act.

Monica is depressed and anxious. She struggles with her son, who she feels rejects her and has become contemptuous of her relationship with her mother. This is intolerable for Monica, who has dedicated her life to taking care of others and making sure no one has any bad feelings because of her. Monica came to therapy because of how torn she is between trying to please her son and trying to make her mother happy. This internal and external tug-of-war is ruling Monica’s life, and there is little room for Monica to consider herself. In fact, before Monica began therapy, it never occurred to her that she should be a consideration. Monica is unable to act in any way that would make her feel she hasn’t done everything her mother expects of her.

Monica is tearing up as she tells me: “My son Rick never wants to visit my mother when I visit her. Mom is getting on in years and won’t be around much longer. I tell him he really hurts her feelings and upsets her when he doesn’t visit or call. He tells me it’s boring to visit and he hates that she always criticizes him and tells him what to do. I know that’s true, but I try to explain that she is very interested in his life and wants to make sure he does things right. Her heart is in the right place. It upsets me. I feel like I’ve done something wrong when my son behaves this way. I’m a bad mother and a bad daughter.”

Alan’s wife Nancy and his father always get into arguments. Nancy tells Alan that she doesn’t like the way his father talks about women and that his father hates women. It distresses Alan that she won’t keep her feelings to herself. Each fight between Nancy and his father throws Alan into an anxious frenzy: “Nancy is so mean to him. He loves her, but she doesn’t care. He does condescend to her, but it gets him very agitated when they fight. I worry he’ll have a heart attack. Why can’t she just keep quiet and understand he is a good dad and would never do anything to hurt us?”

Alan is a man in serious conflict. He adores and admires his father, but he frequently turns himself into a pretzel to provide for his father’s needs and wishes without feeling he is abandoning his wife. As he tries to provide what she needs and what his father needs, there is little consideration of what he desires. He has recently become aware of how it might be dangerous to know what he wants: “I think I would feel even more tortured if I had to choose between Dad, Nancy, and myself. But it’s getting harder and harder to feel I don’t exist as a person except to be there for the people I love. I know if I choose myself, it will confirm how selfish I am.”

Letting Go of Excuses and Feeling the Feelings

Conrad, Monica, and Alan could not tolerate negative feelings about their parents. All three felt at risk for feeling like awful people. They were stuck in their lives and limited in the choices they could make. In our work in therapy, it became important to recognize the pattern of excuse making and develop the awareness of anxiety that accompanied any leakage of negative thoughts and feelings about their parents. These three people began to connect how hard they worked to avoid unwanted feelings about their parents with how those feelings made them feel like bad people. They also began to recognize the connection between how their limited ability to tolerate feelings had affected their self-esteem and self-confidence as well as their ability to be autonomous in the world. They worked to let go of the excuses and make room for more authentic experiences in their relationships with themselves and, to some extent, with their parents.

The process of letting go of excuses to preserve positive feelings can produce intense anxiety as the letting go lessens the defenses and makes room for the “bad person” feelings to emerge. At the same time, the possibility for a less black-and-white palette for feelings becomes possible. As one begins to consider that there is a broad continuum between being “good” and “bad,” one can also begin to realize that having a negative feeling doesn’t automatically define one’s character. Recognition that having a wide range of feelings at our disposal makes us human becomes an important lesson in the therapeutic process. Becoming human is about separating and individuating.

For Conrad, Monica, and Alan, the separation-individuation process advanced when they could allow thoughts that previously were unacceptable. First, their heads told them that their lives were not as they wished them to be. Then, as they allowed their gut to become operational, they could use it to experience feelings that in the past were blocked and dismissed. Having these feelings facilitates the processes of self-reflection and self-engagement which promote self-knowledge. Thus, Conrad began to learn he still could nurture his artistic self and began to plan opening an art gallery. Monica has come to feel more kindly toward her son and has begun to acknowledge he can express feelings that she is only beginning to allow for herself. Alan is accepting that his attention to his own needs is not selfish, and can actually show a small smile when he tells me he chose his wishes over those of his father or his wife.

For all three, allowing feelings nurtures the growth of the self and the development of identity. They are discovering, “Who am I? Who am I in relationship to the world? What do I think, feel, want? What do I want to do?” Their need to block their feelings by making excuses is diminishing. Allowing the emergence of previously intolerable and unwanted feelings provides tools—not only for developing the self, but for the development of the self in relationship. Knowledge of feelings is a tool which can help address internal and external conflict. This means one has new and more information to decide both how and, sometimes more importantly, if to act.

Note: To protect privacy, names in the preceding article have been changed and the dialogues described are a composite.

Dear GoodTherapy.org,

I recently attended my father’s funeral, which was a very large gathering with family, friends, and people in the community. He touched many lives and was well-known around town, so hundreds of people showed up to pay respects. Tears were shed, handshakes and hugs were exchanged, and memories were shared. It was an emotional day, to say the least … but I didn’t even come close to crying. In fact, I haven’t cried at all since he passed. I’ve tried, because it seems like the thing to do, and because people have been telling me things like, “You just have to let it out,” or, “You’ll feel so much better afterward.”

In general I don’t consider myself a very emotional person, though I’ve been known to shed a tear at sad movies. And I cried when my childhood dog died in my 20s. So it makes me feel even worse that I was able to express some emotion at those times and not now, at a clearly more impactful loss. And it’s not like I hated my dad, either. We’d grown apart in recent years, but I have positive memories from my childhood when my dad was around and not away for military service, as he often was.

[fat_widget_right]

My two siblings are grieving in “normal” ways, and they definitely think I’m some kind of monster for not crying at all, especially at the funeral. Meanwhile, I’ve been the one with a clear head on my shoulders to help our mother arrange the memorial, get her finances in order, etc. So at least some good has come out of my apathy. But I do wonder why I’m not reacting more strongly, and whether I should be doing something to make myself move through grief more.

Would it be helpful to try to make myself cry? Does crying need to be a part of grief? I don’t want to draw the grief process out unnecessarily if I can instead just move forward. —Dried Up

Submit Your Own Question to a Therapist

Dear Dried Up,

A parent’s passing can be a momentous time in one’s life—and assuming we know and outlive them, we all experience it eventually. Each of us will react in our own way. That means we will cry or not, feel sad or not, feel free or not, feel glad or not. Whatever our feelings or, more accurately, mixture of our feelings, we will be affected—some people more, some less, some more openly expressive, some less. That’s all part of being human.

You dubbed yourself “Dried Up.” I was surprised when I read that. What does it mean? Then I thought, “dried up” implies that what was wet before is dry now. I wonder if there were times in your early life when you were unhappy, and now you’ve reached equilibrium.

You write that you cried when your dog died and you also cry at certain movies. Some movies are arranged to make people cry; that’s their purpose. And when your dog died, you were in your 20s, a time when people start truly becoming adults. Although I don’t know you well enough to unravel what made you who you are, it’s certainly possible your dog’s death may have been associated with the end of your childhood. If so, you may have cried both for the dog and also that it marked the ending of a precious time in your life.

Now that your father has died, you wonder why you don’t cry. You wonder if there is something wrong with you, perhaps. That presumes that crying is not only normal, but mandatory.

Who says you have to cry? Every person experiences grief in their own way and in their own time. Everybody expresses their emotions differently, and there is no right way to do it.

Who says you have to cry? Every person experiences grief in their own way and in their own time. Everybody expresses their emotions differently, and there is no right way to do it. It’s a purely individual matter. You write that you are generally reserved emotionally—that’s neither a positive nor a negative attribute, but rather a description of your place on a continuum of emotional expressiveness. Some people are more openly expressive, some less, just like some folks have brown eyes and others have blue eyes.

Your siblings seem to have precise ideas about the right and wrong ways to have feelings and subsequently show them. I wonder if this is not part of a larger story about how you relate to one another. They are not pleased with you because you did not display grief as they did. Do you all have to be the same? Is there only one way to be?

You speak of your apathy. I’m not sure I understand what you mean by that, and I wonder if you might mean impassivity rather than apathy, so I looked up apathy in the dictionary. Merriam-Webster differentiates apathy from impassivity: “Impassivity stresses the absence of any external sign of emotion in action or facial expression.” What’s wrong with that?

I definitely do not think you should make yourself cry. You shouldn’t make yourself do anything. Just be yourself and let things take their natural course.

Take care,

Lynn

Wired for connection, baby daughter looks into her mother’s eyes needing to see delight reflected back to her. What if, instead, baby’s gaze is met with emotional emptiness? Lights out. Nobody home.

And what if this blank stare isn’t the manifestation of a temporary hormonal condition but instead indicative of something more troublesome? What if mom’s emotional tank is perpetually low and she has little or nothing to give her daughter?

If mom didn’t get the love and affirmation she needed when she was young, then her daughter, in the role of the “good daughter,” learns quickly that mom’s needs—and not her own—are at the center of the relationship.

The emptiness mom feels inside can threaten to swallow both mother and daughter. There simply aren’t enough good feelings to go around. And like a bucket with a slow leak, the narcissistically defended mother’s good feelings about herself are in constant need of a refill. In response, the daughter learns to put her own needs on the back burner as she works to fill mom up.

[fat_widget_right]

Many a “good daughter” learns making mom happy is necessary for their own emotional survival. To this end, the “good daughter” manages to subvert/suppress/deny her own needs to take care of mom.

The “good daughter” learns to:

1. Look good for mom: The “good daughter’s” demeanor, appearance, and accomplishments must reflect well on mom.
2. Act happy for mom: The “good daughter” acts cheerful, enthusiastic, and puts on a positive face so as not to overwhelm mom. Bad moods, setbacks, and struggles must be short-circuited, if not hidden.

The Cost of Being the ‘Good Daughter’

In the normal course of development, the “good daughter,” attuned to her mother’s needs, may bury her own needs for the mother’s sake. Understandably, these needs and feelings do not disappear. When these repressed needs surface, the “good daughter” may feel like a fake.

Sadly, when the “good daughter” of the narcissistically defended mother needs support from mom regarding loss, disappointment, or struggle, she may find that mom has little to give.

Mom isn’t evil, although her actions are frequently destructive. Simply put, a mother who is narcissistically injured is consumed with preserving and replenishing her impoverished sense of self. Her emotional tank is empty. The narcissistic defense means mom is forever in a relentless pursuit of the emotional supplies she did not get during pivotal times in her own development. Additionally, mom may feel the need to disguise her neediness, which may result in denial, defensiveness, and manipulation of her daughter.

When mom experiences deep insecurities, her parenting may be slightly or profoundly impaired.

Healthy functioning is restored when both mother and daughter are free to be themselves and no one needs to “be good” for anyone else.

Because the daughter has subverted her own needs, she runs the danger of becoming disassociated from those needs. She becomes “good” at the expense of being real. This can result in the “good daughter” feeling like an impostor, a fake, just waiting to be found out.

Because she is disconnected from her authentic self, the “good daughter” worries underneath it all that she isn’t good enough.

Since her sense of self is rooted in making another person happy, she is at risk for codependency in her relationships. And because she is used to making another person’s happiness the basis for her feelings of self-worth, she may base her sense of self-worth on her own daughter’s successes.

This is how being “good” for mom isn’t necessarily good for daughter. Or daughter’s daughter, for that matter.

Healing is possible, however. The “good daughter” must get in touch with her authentic self and start to mend the places within that she has long denied. In doing so, she enables herself to parent from a place of wholeness and confidence, and to empathize and accept both her own needs and her daughter’s. By becoming aware of and reclaiming forgotten parts of herself, the daughter of a mother with narcissism can end the cycle of maternal narcissism.

Healthy functioning is restored when both mother and daughter are free to be themselves and no one needs to “be good” for anyone else.

Note: The generalizations above may not apply to all dynamics in a family affected by parental narcissism. Also, although this article refers specifically to a mother and daughter for the purpose of narrative cohesion, any gender combination of parent and child can be similarly touched by narcissism.

Much of life is shaped by the choices we make. We choose where we want to work and where we will live. We choose friends and partners. Most of us also choose who we marry (if we choose to marry). When we commit to someone, typically we are agreeing not only to commit to them, but to what—and who—they bring with them. In many cases, family members are part of what a partner brings to a committed, long-term relationship. And although we can choose our partner, we cannot choose their family.

Building a relationship with a long-term partner’s family can be difficult for all involved. Everyone involved is adjusting to a major life transition: parents are trying to adjust to a new relationship dynamic with their child and build a relationship with their child’s partner. The couple is establishing and strengthening their own relationship and making their own life choices. If these choices conflict with what the parents envisioned for their child, the parents may perceive this as rejection, which can put strain on the relationship. Parents who miss their child and want to have more of a relationship may seem pushy or over-involved. Any number of other reasons may serve to complicate this particular relationship.

In my experience as a therapist, strained relationships with a partner’s family members, especially the relationship between a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, are quite common. If you find building a relationship with your partner’s parents to be challenging, or if you just don’t like your partner’s parents, the following tips and considerations may be helpful:

[fat_widget_right]

• Discuss the level of involvement you would like to have with your partner’s family. Do you envision seeing them every week for Sunday dinner? Do you envision seeing them for three hours on a major holiday once per year? If you choose to have children, what type of involvement should they have with them? If you and your partner disagree, you can talk through the reasons and try to reach a compromise that leaves you both satisfied.
• Work on building a positive relationship and focusing on the good. It can be hard to relate to someone if you don’t know them well. Try to have more shared experiences. Plan an activity, such as a picnic or mini-golf. Try seeking advice on small things, like which tablecloth is best or what dishes you could serve at a family meal. Maybe one parent is financially savvy and can help you figure out your mortgage application. Maybe the other parent is excellent at fixing things around the house. Seek out and enjoy each person’s strengths.
• This is a long-term relationship, so it is likely worth investing in. In most areas of life, it’s fairly easy to minimize contact with people we don’t like. However, in a marriage or other committed partnership, it may be worth trying to reach common ground. Discover the good aspects about your partner’s parents and learn what you can like about them.
• Hear their feelings behind the comments. When your partner’s mother asks, “Why don’t you move closer?” or “Why did you move so far away?” try to hear the feelings rather than the criticisms. Your partner’s parents are probably not trying to control you or tell you what to do. They may simply be trying to tell you how they feel about something, such as “I miss you and wish we could spend more time together.”
• Learn their love language as a way to communicate with them better. Gary Chapman’s The Five Love Languages as a tool for your in-laws. What are their love languages? Do they really appreciate gifts? Would they better appreciate an offer to help them with house and yard work once in a while? Giving to them, in a way they will appreciate most, can help them feel more positively toward you and may lead to a greater sense of connection. [amazon_affiliate]
• Not all events have to include all the members of the family. If it remains difficult—for whatever reason—for you to enjoy or even handle seeing certain members of the family, try instead to create (or allow) opportunities for them to see your partner or their grandchildren. Grandparents might be thrilled to spend time with your kids for a few hours or even a few days. You don’t have to attend every single get-together.
• Don’t force your partner or children to cut off their relationships. You may dislike your partner’s parents. You may have drastically different approaches to parenting. But allowing your children to spend time with their grandparents may really benefit them (and their grandparents). Preventing your children from building this relationship can be a huge loss (unless you have reason to believe they are in danger). And if your partner wishes to spend more time with their parents (with or without you) and you prevent them from doing so, conflict and resentment may be the result.
• Set boundaries. Doing this early on in your relationship is likely to make the adjustment easier for everyone involved. Assuring your partner’s parents they are an important part of the family may help them agree more easily to the boundaries you set without feeling as if you have cut them off. If they tend to overstay their welcome, try being specific: “Are you available from 1 to 3 on Sunday?” or, “Would you like to come for a visit for two nights next weekend?” If they express the desire to stay longer than you would like, simply say something like, “It would be better for us to just do two days this time.”
• Realize that your partner’s long-standing familial relationships and communication dynamics precede your relationship and are not likely to change. You may feel irritated by your partner’s interactions. Suddenly the confident and self-assured person you know cannot stand up to their mother! This may be infuriating, but try your best not to harp on it or try to change them. Your partner’s relationship and patterns of interaction with their parents (and siblings) are unlikely to change much. (However, if some aspect of this interaction or any family issue appears to be harmful or distressing to your partner, you may wish to discuss this, perhaps with a counselor.)
• Communicate clearly. If you primarily communicate with your partner’s family through your partner but find things often become muddled, try speaking directly to them instead. This not only shows them respect but can help prevent miscommunication and misunderstandings—and will keep your partner from being caught in the middle.

Dealing with your partner’s parents may be one of the more challenging parts of your relationship, but it may be worth the effort to make your interactions with them as pleasant as possible, if for no other reason than to respect your partner’s bond with them.