Effects of Covert Narcissistic Parenting on Me+How I’m Coping

I was both the golden child and the scapegoat

(TW: Mentions of abuse.)

I’m a little reluctant to share this because I don’t want this to become a comparison of who had it worse. Or, I don’t want this to seem like some pity-party/woe-is-me moment, because no matter what we’re all going through:

It doesn’t matter how deep the water is, drowning is drowning.

Every feeling is valid — but that’s the thing with people who grew up with this type of trauma: we’re taught to minimize who we are and how we feel. However, there is absolutely no minimizing this. What we feel is real and should be addressed, 100%. We all deserve to be seen and heard and accommodated.

I will acknowledge however that I was for sure on the luckier side of things, since my parent didn’t have full-blown NPD, and my other parent was far healthier in comparison. So when I forced the unhealthy parent to look at their wrong thought patterns or behaviors later when I was an adult with better boundaries, they were receptive to changing for the better(although not without a lot of struggle), and I had my other parent as emotional support throughout my life. I also need to state that my unhealthy parent wasn’t all bad; like everyone, they are a mix of good and bad. And the way they parented imparted a lot of benefits on me too.

That being said though, the narcissitic traits were more covert, and their toxic behaviors were hidden under the guise of “I know what’s best”/”this is only for your own good”. So, it was harder to spot the signs of abuse early on. Covert narcissism is subtle, and probably affecting plenty of us — especially in Asian regions where parenting isn’t really properly taught, there’s still a big stigma around mental health, and many caregivers end up being “Tiger” parents, pressuring and pushing their kids to keep going passed their limit toward some arbitrary idea of “greatness”.

I want to clarify that I’m not writing this either to elicit sympathy in the comments, since I’ve done the work to properly see myself. Who I really want to write this for, is for the people like my past self who may be unaware, or who’s just gaining an awareness, of this type of parenting. I hope this article can help you determine how this type of parenting has affected you too, and help you heal sooner by learning how I and others have coped(if you’ve passed this hurdle, or have learnings you want to impart, please leave your experiences in the comments!).

If I had the privilege, I would have of course gone to psychotherapy. But, as with many other Asian countries, therapy is still stigmatized. At that time, I also didn’t have the resources, and I was skeptical of the quality of service of therapists in my country(plus I had issues with trusting anyone with my problems, as you’ll read on later). So if I had heard from others experiencing this of how it impacted them and how they got through it, it probably would’ve helped me heal much sooner.

I’ll also try to make the scope of these effects as general as possible and as accurate to the effects of narcissistic parenting as much as I’m aware of, so you can see how this dynamic might be playing out in your own life and affecting you too.

If you don’t know yet how this type of parenting manifests, it’s when the agenda of the caregivers are not simply to provide detached care, but also to mold their child to match their own idea of what a good child “should” be, or what they want their child to be growing up. What’s more is that they’re very attached to how the child develops because anything the child does affects their ego — this is different from Tiger parenting, wherein the main driver is wanting to see their children succeed. And although the line between the two is very thin, narcissistic parents mostly pressure their children for their own selfish reasons. Instead of simply being guideposts, these types of parents make-believe that they’re a god — or even better than God. God, in the biblical sense, gave humans free will. But what narcissistic parents do is they neglect this valuable aspect of humanity and instead try to control their children — they see their children as an extension of themselves rather than their own person: and as an extension of their own egos, they want the child to achieve the things they themselves were never able to achieve so they can sort of live vicariously through the child. This sort of pressure will usually produce a “gifted” or golden child, but in the long run, they will suffocate and burn out with unrealistic and rigid expectations.

I tried to fit into this mold, and in the process, I definitely learned narcissistic traits myself.

Most of the effects I list here are because I grew up around these toxic mindsets imparted on me. With that out of the way, here they are:

1.) Enmeshment Trauma — I didn’t know who I was.

This realization dawned on me recently — that “boundaries” don’t just mean the limit of the things you’re willing to do or tolerate. It also means the limit of where you begin and where others end. Identity is such an integral aspect of our humanity; and “expression” is the manifestation of that identity.

In narcissistic parenting, you’re treated as a mere reflection of this person rather than your own individual.

Toxic positivity is a form of coping mechanism for some people to shield themselves from the discomfort and overwhelming weight of their own sadness, and my parent had this too. I was never allowed to cry or express negative emotions in my household. In other words, I was never able to enforce the boundaries of my identity, and what I was okay and not okay with.

I’ve said this before, but being an empath is a form of codepedency(so is narcissism). Largely, I only had to learn these empathic traits in order to avoid triggering my parent, or to avoid them withholding their love and consideration for me.

Because of this, I was a good listener and always there for other people, but it was hard to do that for myself and acknowledge my own feelings. At times, I found it easier to play “savior” for others than to look at my own problems. I also slowly grew attached to seeing to it than my friends wouldn’t get hurt, or wouldn’t get themselves into problems out of their own stupidity. I was slowly turning narcissistic — seeing myself as the “better”, more insightful party(therefore more superior) in a relationship that should be between two equals.

Because my parent tried to control and manipulate me so much, their ideals became my ideals. The way they saw the world and saw me became how I saw the world and saw myself — as opposed to an upbringing where the child could be able to develop their own healthy sense of self, and determine for themselves their own biases about the world. The narcissistic parents imbues this bias unto you. They spin this narrative about the world instead of you discovering the world and yourself on your own.

The worst outcome of this enmeshment is probably that I had no clue what I really wanted to do in life, and I wasn’t taught the skills necessary to be able to forge my own way. So, I sort of “wasted” years in a degree I hated(I’m still thankful I had the privilege to get higher education though, and choosing the wrong degree was a valuable experience for me). Bad schooling also contributed to this, of course.

But being enmeshed made it so that I was doubly scared to step out of line, and out of the box of people’s expectations of me, as well as the expectations of a Third World country’s societal definition of “successful”. The messaging I got at that young age from my parent about shifting degrees was that the people who did so were “dumb.” So I thought I didn’t have that option myself. And, at 20, when I finally realized I could’ve shifted all along, I was too burned out and too confused of what I really wanted to make a choice at the time.

How I coped:

During college, I had to move to a different city — which wasn’t at all the norm in my country, but leaving behind the life I once knew thankfully helped me see just how much I lived life just to please others around me. I began learning to stop relying on others’ approval of me and just do my own thing.

With the burnout and accompanying depression, I took gap years to heal from it and try out different things to see what I really wanted in life. Slowly but surely, I’ve been carving my own path since then.

What also really helped my depression was adopting a cat. I was living alone at those years, and it was hard to find a reason to live or get out of bed during those times. But, with my pet, I realized that I had to do better because someone else was depending on me.

2.) I had both a delusional high self-esteem at times, and a feeling of being worthless.

I’m an only-child, so I became both the lauded golden child when I adhered to their whims, as well as the barely-existent scapegoat whenever I did the opposite. When I was younger, I had my rebellious stage and during these stages, I was the scapegoat — my mother would not show me affection or any sort of acknowledgement unless it would also gain her recognition. For example, if it pertained to high grades or giving a performance at school, especially if she also had to make an appearance as the audience or as the stage mom, I was given her attention. I was rarely given any effort outside of those realms.

So I learned, that in order to get the attention of my mother, I had to excel academically. This led to me choosing a degree in college — not because it’s what I genuinely wanted(I didn’t know what I genuinely wanted, like I said), but simply because I was told it would pay a lot. And I know a lot of Asian children who are have this same thinking too.

The main thing I was taught to want was societal recognition or gaining wealth and status.

This isn’t unusual for parents to want their kids to strive for, since those things usually accompany safety and stability, but it shouldn’t be the only things to want to strive for, lest all humans end up as selfish as narcissists.

Most parents only want their kids to live comfortable lives, of course. And that’s great if that’s their main agenda, but if their secondary agenda is also to use the kid as a trophy, or extension of their own accomplishments, then it becomes slightly sinister. I was top of my class till other interests caught my eye and my academics started(relatively) falling apart. It’s not like I was failing or anything, but I was made to feel so utterly worthless for not having high grades anymore. My mother’s concern for my education would’ve been appreciated, but as it was, she was only concerned about me being top of my class because, come Recognition/Awards Ceremonies at the end of every school year in my country, parents could accompany their kids on stage to get the awards, so she could bask in the thought of being the parent of a high-achiever. When I reached college, her concern for my studies mysteriously disappeared, and I realize it’s because Awards Ceremonies in college were no longer as big an affair.

How I coped:

I had to learn to decentre academics from my life, and to come up with a new system to base my worth on. I had to learn on my own that grades aren’t everything, and there’s so much more to being human than achieving status in life. It took years and years to undo this conditioning — that I was only loveable if I were useful — but what helped the most was letting myself be in a slow, restful state to recuperate my energy(as opposed to before when I was always operating on Fast Mode, and I just did things without really thinking if what I was doing was personally worthwhile to me or not.); aka, I let myself be selfish and useless to others for awhile.

But, of course, we live in a society where we need to contribute towards its betterment, and I slowly learned to find a balance again; of being there for others while reminding myself it’s okay to have limitations and to rest as much as I need it.

3.) Bad Social Anxiety and Image Issues

During highschool, I was craving for my narcissistic parent’s affection and I began conforming to the things they wanted of me. Whereas, in elementary, I wore what I wanted and was mostly content with their uninvolvement, now I wanted actual guidance in life rather than the bare minimum.

In highschool, my mom would tell me to smile more or else people wouldn’t like me. And, after highschool when it was okay to start wearing makeup, she went further by saying that if I don’t wear it, people would treat me badly, because only pretty people get ahead in life.

Then, in college, I got bad acne breakout. She would insult me for this thing I couldn’t control — and call me audacious for even thinking to go out in public with the acne I had! All of this gave me a lot of bad anxiety. She only learned this from her own traumatized upbringing of course, where she saw that only the attractive ones got ahead. But life is definitely full of less shallow people than that.

But I was impressionable and craving her approval, so I did indeed follow her advice. One such very bad advice she kept telling me since I was 14 was that people who didn’t wear high heels were losers. DUDE. The only heeled-sandals she wore herself were 3-inches at highest, but here she was telling a kid to wear 4–5 inch HEELS. Crazy.

In college, I started experimenting with different styles. I cut my long hair real short and wore flats more often, and this infuriated her. She would yell or throw all sorts of tantrums and insults. Me finding my own identity during those times was when she was the most judgemental.

How I coped:

When I was away from home, I kept experimenting and testing the assumptions that my mother placed on me. First, it was my hair, by cutting it short — reaaaaally short. And by not wearing makeup in public for the first time since I could remember in my teenage life. I realized that people don’t actually care how you look, and the ones who do judge you or treat you differently because of it have inner work to do themselves. The only person who judged me the most for not being up to their standard of pretty was my mother.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was, during one of the time I was simply being assertive of my own identity, she didn’t help me when I was bed-ridden and sick. Even though, at the time, I did conform to one of her demands and grew my hair long again, she still kept demanding other things from me. It was then I realized that her toxicity was beyond mitigating, and I had to cut her out from my life for a few years because she really wasn’t realizing the hurt she’d caused all my life(at the time. She’s become a much better person since then).

4.) Problems with authority figures/ general trust issues

This is a big issue with narcissists because their first authority figures — their parents — were dubious at best, abusive at worst. My mother passed down her own mistrust of authority unto me.

Along with this were trust issues in general. She had a hard time trusting anyone and of course, since she wasn’t really quite attended to and properly protected as a kid, she would indeed think that. And she always relayed to me that thinking: that people are out to get you, and you only have yourself to trust, etc,. This messaging messed with my head so much. I would rarely let anyone actually know my true feelings about things because I was dead scared my mom would be proven right and they’d use it against me. I only ever trusted friends when I had known them for years and they had proven themselves worthy.

How I got out of this mindset:

I slowly learned that authority figures are there to keep or enforce the peace, most times.

In my relationships, I tried detaching from their effects on me, and kept telling myself that even if they did the worst, I would be alright. I’d be strong enough to get through anything, and nobody’s words and actions needed to heavily cause a reaction in me.

5.) I had abandonment issues, meanwhile also being unreliable and inconsistent at times.

When I got into my first committed relationship, it seemed like I had a mix of Borderline Personality Disorder and Relationship OCD/anxiety. Another aspect of the “advice” my mom gave me was about relationships with the opposite sex. Suffice it to say that she generalized a group people and drilled it into my head that some men were evil. This of course is what contributed to my OCD/anxiety. At the same time, because my mom also abandoned me at times as a kid when I wasn’t being a “good” child, or when I stood my ground and would act “rebellious”(even if I was just enforcing my own identity), she would stonewall me. Hence, I thought people would abandon me if I wasn’t being the good friend or girlfriend I ought to be.

I thought “well, I’ll be abandoned anyway, so what’s the point of getting into any sort of exclusive, committed relationship?” So, I was heckin’ reluctant and skeptical of the sincerity of my former partner’s intentions when he decided he wanted to be my boyfriend. I tested him with everything my subconscious fears wanted to test him with. He waited months for me to come around, and I eventually did. But while in our relationship, I would get triggered a lot because it was mimicing the closeness I had with my parents — particularly my mother, who always made me feel like her love and attention were conditional on me being a certain way.

How I coped:

I was inconsistent with others because I was pouring from a near-empty cup. I had to look out for myself this time around first and foremost and not tolerate any sort of insensitivity. I heavily distanced myself — and still do — from people who don’t have the awareness of how their words and actions affect others.

But I was insensitive during those times too, and at my worst, I also threw tantrums in front of my former partner— the kinds of tantrums I was never allowed to have with my own parent because they prioritized their own emotions over their child’s — but I am so glad my ex was strong enough to let me have space to just express a lot of my hurt and sadness.

With my abandonment, I reminded myself daily that I’d be alright, even if my worst fears of jealousy were realized. I’d carry on just fine.

And now, as I’m more healed, I make space for others to show up as they are too.

6.) Comparing myself with others.

I was deeply envious of people who were admired by just being themselves, because I was never loved for just being me at the time. I had to be this trophy daughter — who wore makeup all the time, and attention-hogging clothing and shoe choices, etc. — or else I wouldn’t be loved.

I think a good indicator to tell if you grew up with bad parents is your reaction to seeing children, or anyone who’s younger than you. I absolutely was apathetic or even abhorred babies and children when I was younger. I did not understand the unconditional admiration or attention these kiddos got because I didn’t experience that myself, so I didn’t know how to value others simply for being themselves.

At times as well, in my worst experiences with my parent, I deeply envied my peers who could so easily and safely express themselves infront of others. I didn’t feel like I had that luxury — I was always scared of being judged if I were vulnerable in any way.

How I coped:

Reparenting. I started viewing myself as the child who was beautiful just as she was. I started affirming this daily — as well as other different affirmations. Honestly, being Christian also really helped. I made active effort to join bible study and surround myself with people who just appreciated me for me. Jesus died for us on the cross so that we could be saved — an whether you believe in God or not — just the mere thought of someone sacrificing themselves because he believes humanity can and should be redeemed is something special, I think. And I think Jesus’ work is really important(ack, sorry for sounding preachy), because even if your family shuns you, at least you have this theoretical God who’s always there for you.

Even if that god/goddess is you all along, saving yourself.

I am of the full conviction that children should not be born with any sort of heavy expectations placed on them. They should be born as a manifestation of the unconditional love between two people. But that’s pushing it, because I know most people aren’t as spiritual-minded as that, or are even privileged enough to think in that manner. Most people are just living in surivival mode, in this age where capitalism still controls our lives. More often than not, the majority give birth to children as a means of egoic satisfaction — either the parent/s want to have a mini version of themselves, or to gain status in society, or just to have leverage sometimes over their spouse(i.e. baby-trapping). Or it is simply that they’re driven by their urges. And I’m not denying that it’s wrong to have this animalistic urge — we have evolved of course to want to ensure the survival of our species and to pass down our genes to offspring — but that remaining in that low-level of consciousness indeed makes us no better than mere animals.

Narcissists are in that low-level awareness — much like how our cavemen ancestors used to be mostly made of unempathetic psychopaths — thanks to their egos being traumatized, and not making way for their superegos to develop. But our evolution is propelling us toward a more enlightened state of being: order from chaos.

The majority of each generation is doing better and better, I really believe. I always like to end these things on a corny, happy note, so I’ll end it there.

Hi, I’m Brie! A highly sensitive person, sharing my insights on healing from narcissistic abuse, having better relationships, and sustainable productivity. Subscribe on youtube for more: https://youtube.com/@cestlabrie