Narcissistic Mothers Novels & Stories

The same way, I don’t know what she knows about me. She was quiet for a beat, swirling the can in her hands. I watched her body language — she was too relaxed. People who were about to turn themselves in didn’t smile this much. They didn’t wear silk robes like they were about to lounge poolside, or do their makeup like it mattered what their victims thought of them. Something was wrong, obviously. She was stalling. For what, I hadn’t figured out yet — but I would. “My father was a narcissist,” she said, finally. “One of those big-name wolves who believed the only thing stronger than blood was control. My mother was pretty, soft-spoken. She died when I was young. Or at least, that’s what I wa

Henry asks her. “It wasn’t Zimbabwe so much as my mother,” Anna said. “A lot of things are tolerable to people when they have loving and supportive parents. I lost that with the death of my father,” Anna tells him. Henry nods. His mother had been an excellent woman that he had been very close to. “Well toxic, narcissistic mothers are largely not talked about because we love to have this image that women are excellent maternal figures so there’s practically no accountability most times for their toxicity,”

My refusal to conform to her standards and kiss up to her made her hate me, thereby cancelling me as a candidate to become the next Luna in her place. "Wait. You mean my mother is the one who put you up to this? And what for? She doesn't even need to do all of these." Nate sounded genuinely upset, like he couldn't believe it. I'm half convinced that he doesn't know about it in the first place, but it's his family. There's no way he wouldn't have an idea about this. It has to be an act on his part because I know how much he can pretend. It seems to be something that runs in the family because even his mother turned out to be a psychopathic bitch that wants me dead because she doesn't like me.

I hoped I could turn back time so that I would never experience things like that, but it would be totally impossible. I had a pretty dysfunctional family. My mother was actually very loving, but she got a short fuse and she got angry a lot. She took care of us and fed us, but there were also a lot of times when she would hit, punch, kick, smack, or whatever you would name it. She did that to me, and my siblings. She would especially hit me the most though, because of the fact that I was the prettiest in the family. I guess she had that narcissistic personality as well. .

Bringing his mother in this conversation or ever was a bottom line for him and not in a good way. His mother was a literal example of victimizing herself, she will put herself on the high pedestal as if she was better than anyone else, try to bit off more than she could chew and when she failed - she would make herself, a victim. She was cantankerous, bitchy and a social butterfly who liked her kitty parties more than she liked her kids. He didn’t even remember her face now because she appeared in his life a lot less than a known passerby.

I respond, "I didn't trust any of the adults in our lives to follow through with what they say they're going to, always having their own agenda." "Well," he says while kissing the top of my head, "you were right and wrong but it was a smart move either way. In fact, your entire plan was, I don't think you missed anything. Covering every aspect that could cause problems." "Well, with the training my mother put me through I would expect nothing less," I sigh, recalling memories of running obstacles to I would vomit, fighting through the broken hands, poison training, running on literally no sleep. My mother made my life a literal hell with her control issues, and covert narcissism.

She spoke in a taunting and stern tone. This was just how my mother was. She's narcissistic and a perfectionist. She adored my sister and every little thing about her, leaving her to critique everything about me. I tried to interact with my mother as little as humanly possible. I clenched my jaw, growing more frustrated and annoyed. I had these conversations with my family so many times, yet they failed to understand my side of anything. "I want to make a career for myself, mother. I'm interested in medical, I don't want to work an office job for the rest of my life."

They would put bugs in my backpack, scribble all over my desk, and even jab me with sewing needles when no one was looking. “She’s a liar! I didn’t make that up! She said her mom wouldn’t buy her snacks, but that’s not true! She just ate everything herself and didn’t want to share! Teachers say liars are bad. We were just trying to teach her a lesson!” His mom’s face darkened. She smacked him on the back of his head and told him to shut up. Mom’s legs gave out. If she had not grabbed the edge of the desk, she might have collapsed right there.

Ethan pulled me up and asked. I told him everything. The System showed up this morning when starvation nearly ended me. The pair exchanged glances. Lee said, “You might not know this, Niamh, but your mother mentioned before leaving that the System would disappear along with the completion of her quest. You might have been hallucinating.” I shook my head. “N-No. I did talk to Mom’s System. Dr. Davies, just leave me alone. I want to die.” With death being brought up, Lee's face tensed.

he said casually. Moore's mother smiled. For some reason, Nathan felt that her smile carried a hint of pity and sarcasm. Moore's mother continued, “I know my daughter best. She’s always been good-natured and gentle. She doesn’t go against her nature unless something really upsets her. If she’s upset with you, it only means she’s truly unhappy with you.” Nathan fell silent for a moment, then straightened up. “You may be her mother, but you don’t love her.