Passionately exposing toxic relationships with grit, humor and honesty. www.lenorathompsonwriter.com blogs.psychcentral.com/narcissism/ www.youcaring.com/helpmichaelbreathe
Lenora Thompson, Huffington Post, PsychCentral and YourTango syndicated freelance writer has been called the Edward Snowden and WikiLeaks of narcissism. She specializes in writing about narcissism, narcissistic abuse and its many rotten bedfellows. She considers herself a “whistleblower,” shining a spotlight on narcissistic abuse so others can also claim their freedom and experience healing. To read more of Lenora Thompson's articles, see her artwork and subscribe, please visit www.lenorathompsonwriter.com. She can be reached at email@example.com for freelance writing, guest blogging, radio interviews...and public speaking.
I was just a little girl, but you had a barbed tongue. Oh, you always couched your cruelty in humour. As if comedy was a disinfectant that redeems meanness. Time and again, I asked Mommy, "Please, tell Daddy to stop teasing me. It hurts my feelings." But you wouldn't or couldn't stop.
Who doesn't want to be close to their mother, especially on Mother's Day? But for thousands it's just not possible. Being with Mom hurts too much. Her "love" is toxic. It causes too much emotional pain. No time is this more controversial and guilt-inducing than on Mother's Day.
One time I heard that menopause is the last chance a woman has to straighten out whatever isn't right in her life. It's her last time of insight into the reality that "all is not well in the kingdom." I wonder, dear PMS, if you aren't a microcosm of that concept. My anger may actually be an insight into truth.
What if narcissism isn't what we assume it is? Yes, narcissists project an über-confident, egotistical image but most researchers believe this is merely a smokescreen to disguise extremely low or even non-existent self-esteem. I thought why not demonstrate it because actions speak louder than words.
What normal parent would be insanely jealous of their own child?! I never expected it and I certainly didn't want it. But there it was: jealousy. As plain as the nose on my face. It all started just after puberty. I was fourteen when Mom first accused me of trying to "be cute" for my own father. Need I add that it wasn't true? But your Mommy is always right, isn't she?
That's right! My husband and I had just one date before our wedding. Wise men say Only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you I'd never felt that way about anyone before. And it wasn'...
I was 14 and shocked by all the criticisms suddenly blind-siding me. They ranged from making me believe I was an (almost) slut to something as vague as, "Shake my hand and commit to 'trying harder.'" To this day I wonder how much harder I could try. I already had a 4.0 GPA.
Staring up at the constellation Orion on a crisp winter's night, I wonder how much longer I can bear the pain. The pain of watching my husband cringe and suffer. While he can dull his chronic physical...
Last night, my husband spoke the three most terrifying words in the English language. "Take a break." I was horrified. My blood ran cold. "But, but..." "No buts about it. Take the day off. Why don't you have some fun?" he suggested, smiling. Fun? Fun!? I drew a blank. And that's when I knew I had a problem.
Some are geographically distant from those they hold dear and raise a solitary glass to absent friends. Others have lost loved ones to the grave. But for many of us, "no contact" is a choice we consciously made. Loneliness is simply less painful than the agony of spending time with our toxic families.
This Christmas, their laser-beam eyes are focused on you. You're the dish of the day. You're gonna be stuffed with advice and ladled with criticism. Because they can't stand themselves. Deep in their souls, they feel like failures. What better antidote than subtly belittling you via the mechanism of meddling.
Only do the traditional holiday stuff you enjoy doing. If cooking a Christmas feast makes you miserable, your family will be thrilled with frozen pizza. Make the Christmas of 2015 about who we are instead of what we do, buy or cook.
Company is coming! Get rid of the couches. We can't let people know we SIT! ...There cannot be any sign of LIVING in this house... I want this place looking like a new Mediterranean fusion restaurant by noon... This is a dishtowel. I need a hand towel. What are we? Barbarians!?!" Does this ring any bells?