Will I Ever Be Good Enough?

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Will I Ever Be Good Enough? Page 2

by Karyl McBride


  I invite you now to come with me to learn about yourself and your mother. It won’t always be a comfortable and easy trip. You’ll be emerging from denial, confronting difficult feelings, being vulnerable, and facing characteristics of your own that you may not like. It is an emotional undertaking. Sometimes you will find it funny. Other times you will feel a great sadness as you try to understand what you experienced and heal from it. By doing so, you will change the legacy of distorted maternal love and make a lasting difference for your daughters, sons, and grandchildren. As you face the honest reflections of your life patterns, you will ultimately like yourself more and become better at parenting, in relationships, and in everything else in your life.

  Emotional legacies are like genetic legacies; they pass along to each generation without anyone really taking a lot of notice. Some of the “hand me downs” are endearing and wonderful and we feel grateful and proud, but some are heartbreaking and destructive. They need to be stopped. We need to stop them. Having done my own recovery work from my distorted maternal legacy, I can say that I’ve been there and I can help you change yours too.

  I welcome you to read further with me. Sit with me, talk with me, cry with me, laugh with me. Together we will begin to deal with the reality of your emotional legacy. Even if it’s always been “all about Mom,” it’s your turn now. It gets to be about you, the “you” that maybe you’ve never discovered or didn’t even know existed.

  PART ONE

  * * *

  RECOGNIZING THE PROBLEM

  CHAPTER ONE

  * * *

  THE EMOTIONAL BURDEN YOU CARRY

  There was a little girl who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead and when she was good she was criticized anyway.

  —Elan Golomb, Ph.D., Trapped in the Mirror1

  For many years, wherever I went, I was accompanied by a gang of harsh critics who made my life almost unbearable. No matter what I tried to accomplish, they were always there reminding me that I wasn’t up to the task and could never do a good enough job. If I was in the midst of spring-cleaning or working hard on a home improvement project, they screamed at me, “This house will never be what you want it to be.” While I was exercising, they would nag, “It doesn’t matter how hard you try; your body is falling apart, and you’re a wimp. Can’t you lift more weights than that?” I’d make financial decisions, and they would bark at me, “You were always a moron at math, and now you’re a mess at finances!” My internal critics were particularly nasty when it came to my relationships with men, whispering things like “Can’t you see you’re a loser? You always pick the wrong men. Why don’t you just give up?” And most hurtful of all, when I was having problems with my children, they would stridently announce, “Your life choices have harmed your children; you should be ashamed of yourself!”

  These incessantly disapproving voices never gave me a moment’s peace. They harangued, nagged, and demeaned me with the overall message that no matter how hard I tried, I could never succeed, could never be good enough. They created such an extreme sensitivity in me that I constantly assumed others were judging me as critically as I was judging myself.

  Finally I realized that these “critics” were destroying me emotionally, and I made a decision to annihilate them—it was a question of my very survival. Fortunately, my decision led to my recovery, as well as my research, clinical work, and the writing of this book.

  After I decided that the inner critics had to go, my first order of business was to figure out where they had originated. As a psychotherapist, I figured they were probably connected to my family history, but my background didn’t seem problematic. My family touted a sturdy Dutch, German, Norwegian, and Swedish heritage with a solid work ethic with no overly mean personalities or apparent child abuse. My self-protecting denial reminded me that I had grown up with a roof over my head, clothes to wear, food to eat. So what was my problem? I promised myself I would find out.

  Why Am I So Unsure of Myself?

  For 28 years I had conducted psychotherapy with hundreds of women and families, which provided me with clinical experience to draw from as I sought to unravel my own internal mystery. I had treated scores of women who shared many of the same symptoms I was finally recognizing within myself: oversensitivity, indecisiveness, self-consciousness, lack of self-trust, inability to succeed in relationships, lack of confidence regardless of our accomplishments, and a general sense of insecurity. Some of my clients had spent unproductive years in therapy with other practitioners, or had purchased stacks of self-help books that never seemed to pinpoint what was causing their pain. My clients ranged from high-powered, successful professionals and CEOs to stay-at-home soccer moms to drug-addicted mothers on welfare to public figures. Like me, my clients had always felt that they lacked something crucial in their lives that seemed to be connected to the distorted self-image and insecurity that haunted their adult lives. Like me, they felt they were never good enough:

  • “I’m always second-guessing myself. I replay a conversation repeatedly, wondering how I could have handled it differently or just to bask in my shame. Most of the time I realize there is no logical reason for me to feel embarrassed, but I still feel that way. I’m really anxious about what other people think of me” (Jean, 54).

  • “People often compliment me on my accomplishments—my master’s degree in communications, my successful public relations career, the children’s book I wrote—but I can’t seem to allow myself the credit I probably deserve. Instead, I beat myself up for what I think I’ve done poorly or should have done better. I’m such a cheerleader for my friends; why can’t I be that way for myself?” (Evelyn, 35).

  • “When I die, I’ve told my husband he can carve my tombstone with, ‘She tried, she tried, she tried, she tried, and then she died’ ” (Susan, 62).

  After years of study and clinical work, I began to see that the debilitating symptoms I shared with so many of my female clients had their origin in a psychological problem called narcissism—specifically, our mothers’ narcissism. Much of what I had read regarding narcissism pertained to men, but when I looked at descriptions of it, something clicked. I realized that there are mothers who are so emotionally needy and self-absorbed that they are unable to give unconditional love and emotional support to their daughters. I saw that my clients’ troubled relationships with their mothers, as well as my own relationship with mine, were clearly connected to maternal narcissism.

  It became clear to me that the crucial element missing in my own life and in the lives of my insecure, unfulfilled female clients was the nurturing and empathetic love that we all desperately needed—but didn’t get—from our mothers. And our mothers probably hadn’t gotten it from their mothers, either, which means that a painful legacy of distorted love was passed from generation to generation. The more I learned about narcissism and how it plays out in the mother-daughter relationship, the more completely I committed myself to helping instill understanding, self-trust, and self-love in the daughters of narcissistic mothers.

  This book is designed to explain the dynamic of maternal narcissism—and to provide you with strategies to overcome it—without in any way blaming narcissistic mothers. Healing comes from understanding and love, not blame. When we can understand the barriers to love that our mothers faced, which resulted in their inability to give us love, we can begin to take steps to ensure our own well-being. Your goal is to understand and to take responsibility for yourself and to heal.

  In this book, you will learn to be loving toward yourself and also your mother. In the beginning stages of this process, you might feel deeply hurt, sad, angry, and even enraged. These reactions are normal, a critical step on the road to recovery. In time, as you gain more understanding of maternal narcissism, you will be able to embrace a new kind of love to replace the distorted love you received as the daughter of a narcissistic mother.

  Why Focus on Mothers and Daughters?

  Both boys and girls suffer emotion
al disruptions when a narcissistic father or mother raises them. A mother, however, is her daughter’s primary role model for developing as an individual, lover, wife, mother, and friend, and aspects of maternal narcissism tend to damage daughters in particularly insidious ways. Because the mother-daughter dynamic is distinctive, the daughter of a narcissistic mother faces unique struggles that her brothers don’t share.

  A narcissistic mother sees her daughter, more than her son, as a reflection and extension of herself rather than as a separate person with her own identity. She puts pressure on her daughter to act and react to the world and her surroundings in the exact manner that Mom would, rather than in a way that feels right for the daughter. Thus, the daughter is always scrambling to find the “right” way to respond to her mother in order to win her love and approval. The daughter doesn’t realize that the behaviors that will please her mother are entirely arbitrary, determined only by her mother’s self-seeking concern. Most damaging is that a narcissistic mother never approves of her daughter simply for being herself, which the daughter desperately needs in order to grow into a confident woman.

  A daughter who doesn’t receive validation from her earliest relationship with her mother learns that she has no significance in the world and her efforts have no effect. She tries her hardest to make a genuine connection with Mom, but fails, and thinks that the problem of rarely being able to please her mother lies within herself. This teaches the daughter that she is unworthy of love. The daughter’s notion of mother-daughter love is warped; she feels she must “earn” a close connection by seeing to Mom’s needs and constantly doing what it takes to please her. Clearly, this isn’t the same as feeling loved. Daughters of narcissistic mothers sense that their picture of love is distorted, but they don’t know what the real picture would look like. This early, learned equation of love—pleasing another with no return for herself—has far-reaching, negative effects on a daughter’s future romantic relationships, which we’ll see in a later chapter.

  What Is Narcissism?

  The term narcissism comes from Greek mythology and the story of Narcissus. Narcissus was handsome, arrogant, and self-involved—and in love with his own image. He couldn’t tear himself away from his reflection in a pool of water to become involved with anyone else, and ultimately his self-love consumed him. He died gazing at himself in the water. In everyday usage, a narcissist is someone who is arrogantly self-absorbed. Self-love or self-esteem, on the other hand, has come to mean a healthy appreciation and regard for oneself that does not preclude the ability to love others.

  The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) describes narcissism as a personality disorder classified by the nine traits listed below. Narcissism is a spectrum disorder, which means it exists on a continuum ranging from a few narcissistic traits to the full-blown narcissistic personality disorder. The American Psychiatric Association estimates that there are approximately 1.5 million American women with narcissistic personality disorder. Even so, nonclinical narcissism is a more pervasive problem. In truth, we all have some of these traits, and those at the low end of the spectrum are perfectly normal. However, as you go farther along the spectrum of narcissism, you encounter more problems.

  Here are the nine traits of narcissism, including examples of how they present themselves in the mother-daughter dynamic. The narcissistic personality:

  1. Has a grandiose sense of self-importance, e.g., exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognized as superior without commensurate achievements.

  (Example: The mother who can talk only about herself and what she’s involved in, and never asks her daughter about herself.) Sally hates to introduce people to her mother because her mother never stops talking about her volunteer work at Children’s Hospital, giving medical descriptions as though she herself is the doctor. To hear her talk, she has saved many lives!

  2. Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty or ideal love.

  (Example: The mother who believes her career cleaning houses will bring her widespread recognition through the efforts of her famous clients.) Mary’s mother constantly talks about her “important” clients and how much they need her and appreciate her and how she believes she will be hired on a movie set with one of them soon.

  3. Believes that he or she is “special” and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people (or institutions).

  (Example: The mother who takes her family out to dinner and treats the waitstaff like serfs in her personal kingdom.) Carrie says it is embarrassing to go out to dinner as a family when her mother comes along because she truly acts like she is the “queen of the lizard lounge.”

  4. Requires excessive admiration.

  (Example: The mother who demands praise, gratitude, and compliments for everything she’s ever done for you.) Jane’s mother attends her grandson’s soccer games every once in a while, but when she does, she expects Jane and her family to appreciate the fact that she sacrificed her time in order to be there. She is forever bringing up “all that I do for you kids!”

  5. Has a sense of entitlement, i.e., unreasonable expectations of especially favorable treatment or automatic compliance with his or her expectations.

  (Example: The mother who feels too important to stand in line.) Marcy’s mother liked to gamble, but when she went to casinos she immediately got a wheelchair, though she was clearly not disabled, so that she could be pushed to the front of the line. In grocery stores, Marcy’s mother would stand in the middle of the aisle and ask perfect strangers, “Could you find this for me?”

  6. Is interpersonally exploitative, i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends.

  (Example: The mother who seeks out only “friends” who can help her get somewhere with her own goals in life.) Sarah’s mother talks about her friends in terms of what they can do for her, as opposed to their likable qualities. Her mother recently rejected a longtime friend when the friend was diagnosed with lupus. The mother was afraid her friend would need something from her.

  7. Lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings and needs of others.

  (Example: The mother who immediately restates any story her daughter has told, pointing out the correct way to tell it.) Candace cannot really speak at all in her mother’s presence without being corrected, criticized, or demeaned in some way.

  8. Is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of her.

  (Example: The mother who says she has no female friends because “most women are jealous of me.”) Sue’s mother believes she is gorgeous and therefore a threat to other women. She often repeats the old L’Oréal commercial in which the beautiful model proclaims, “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.”

  9. Shows arrogance, haughty behaviors or attitudes.

  (Example: The mother who believes that her children are too good to play with other children who have fewer material luxuries.) Jackie’s mother allowed her to associate only with children from moneyed families because most people were not “good enough” for her well-heeled children.2

  Each of these nine traits is exhibited through behaviors that say “It’s all about me” and “You’re not good enough.” Narcissists lack empathy and are unable to show love. They appear to have a superficial emotional life, and their world is image-oriented, concerned with how things look to others. If your mother exhibits many of the above narcissistic traits, you may usually feel that she doesn’t really know you because she never takes the time to focus on who you really are. We daughters of narcissistic mothers believe we have to be there for them—and that it is our role to attend to their needs, feelings, and desires—even as young girls. We don’t feel that we matter to our mothers otherwise.

  Without empathy and love from her mother, a daughter lacks a true emotional connection and therefore feels that something is missing. Her essential emotional needs are unmet. In severe cas
es of maternal narcissism, where neglect or abuse is involved, the most basic level of parental care is missing. In more subtle cases, daughters grow up feeling empty and bereft and don’t understand why. My goal is to help you understand why you feel as you do and free you to feel better.

  When Mothers Don’t Bond with Their Daughters

  As we grow through each stage of development, when our parents nurture and love us, we grow up feeling secure—our emotional needs are being met. But when a daughter does not receive this nurturing, she grows up lacking emotional confidence and security, and must figure out a way to gain these by herself—not an easy task when she doesn’t know why she always feels empty to begin with.

  Normally, a mother interacts with her baby and responds to her every movement, utterance, and need. She thus fosters a solid bond of trust and love. The child learns to trust her mother to provide her with physical necessities, emotional warmth, compassion, and approval, which allows her to develop self-reliance. But a mother without compassion, who fails to forge a bond with her daughter, provides for that daughter only when it is in the mother’s best interest. Her daughter thus learns that she can’t depend on her mother. She grows up apprehensive, worried about abandonment, expecting deceit at every turn.

  A striking example of the effect of maternal narcissism is exemplified in a dream told to me by my client Gayle. The dream has recurred throughout her lifetime, beginning when she was a child and continuing into her adult life.

  I’m dancing through a summery green meadow carpeted with delicate wildflowers and shaded with stately trees. There’s a melodic brook whispering through the tall grass. In a clearing, I spy a beautiful, spirited mare, a flawlessly white horse, which is grazing, unperturbed by my approach. I run to her joyously, anticipating her whinny of appreciation and approval as I offer the apple I pick from a nearby grove. She ignores me and the fruit and viciously bites my shoulder instead, then returns to her foraging with complete indifference.

 

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