Narcissism is a phenomenon in which a person with low self-esteem is afraid of losing authority in the eyes of others, and they begin to manipulate their friends, colleagues, and family to appear better than they really are. These people are so determined. We decided to imagine what it’s like to have your beloved mother like this.
They have a distorted perception of love and achievement, making it nearly impossible for them to make you feel good enough.
Their self-worth hinges on external validation and a facade of perfection. This creates a moving target for your worth in their eyes. You can achieve great things, but their praise might be laced with criticism, or they might simply shift the goalposts to a new, unattainable standard. This leaves you perpetually striving for an unachievable level of approval.
Additionally, their happiness is often transactional. They dole out affection when it suits them, leaving you confused about what truly earns their love. This inconsistency fosters insecurity and self-doubt, making you question your own value no matter what you accomplish. Ultimately, a narcissistic mother’s inability to offer genuine, unconditional love creates a core belief that you’ll never be good enough, regardless of your efforts.
Narcissistic mothers won’t let their kids’ successes overshadow their own.
Narcissistic mothers crave attention and view their children’s achievements through a distorted lens. While they might brag about their child’s successes superficially, they can’t handle being outshined. This stems from a deep insecurity and a fragile sense of self. Their child’s triumphs become a threat, rather than a source of pride. They may downplay the accomplishment, subtly criticize, or even try to one-up their child with their own past glories, all to maintain a sense of superiority.
She’s only worried about her own problems.
A narcissistic mother’s world often revolves around herself, leaving little room for her child’s emotions or experiences. Their own needs for validation and admiration take priority. They struggle to empathize with their child’s struggles, viewing them as inconveniences or attention-grabbing tactics. This is because the narcissist lacks the emotional maturity to see their child as a separate being with valid feelings. Their child’s problems become burdens to be managed, rather than opportunities for connection and support.
These mothers humiliate their children.
There are a couple of reasons why narcissistic mothers might resort to humiliating their children. One is to maintain control. By publicly criticizing, mocking, or exaggerating their child’s flaws, the mother keeps them feeling insecure and dependent. This fragile self-esteem makes the child less likely to challenge the mother’s authority or seek independence.
Another reason is to bolster the narcissist’s own fragile ego. Putting their child down creates a clear hierarchy where the mother is always superior. This can be especially pronounced if the child shows any potential to outshine the mother, triggering a need to cut them down to size. Ultimately, the humiliation serves the narcissist’s own needs for power and self-importance, leaving the child feeling emotionally bruised and diminished.
She makes kids feel guilty for getting something.
Narcissistic mothers often induce guilt in their children for receiving gifts or achieving success because it reinforces their own sense of control. They might make comments like, «You don’t deserve this, there are others who need it more,» implying the child is selfish for wanting something good. This guilt trip serves a few purposes.
Firstly, it keeps the child feeling indebted and obligated to please the mother. Secondly, it deflects attention away from the mother’s inability to be genuinely happy for her child’s good fortune. Ultimately, by making their child feel guilty, the narcissistic mother manipulates the situation to maintain the focus on themselves and their emotional needs.
She thinks she always deserves the best.
A narcissistic mother’s belief in her own deservingness stems from a distorted sense of self-importance. Deep down, she craves admiration and validation, and views herself as superior to others. This inflated ego convinces her that she deserves the best in life, regardless of her actions or contributions. It’s a constant need to be seen as special and entitled.
This sense of entitlement can manifest in various ways, from expecting lavish gifts and unwavering support to feeling justified in cutting in line or bending the rules. For a narcissistic mother, the «best» isn’t just about material possessions, but also about the constant flow of attention, praise, and control that reinforces her grandiosity.
Her love is unstable. When she needs something, she’s kind. When she doesn’t, she’s rude.
Narcissistic mothers often exhibit a transactional kind of love, where affection is dangled like a carrot. When their needs are unmet, their self-absorption takes center stage. They might become critical, dismissive, or even cold towards their child. Conversely, when they require something — maybe errands run, emotional support, or a public image boost — the kindness faucet turns on.
This emotional inconsistency leaves the child confused and insecure. They never quite know what version of their mother they’ll encounter, creating a constant state of walking on eggshells to avoid the unpredictable shift from loving to cold.
She cares too much about how other people see her.
A narcissistic mother craves external validation and uses how others perceive her as a mirror for her fragile self-esteem. Her self-worth hinges on admiration and a cultivated image of perfection. This makes her hyper-aware of how others view her, particularly in her role as a mother. She might brag excessively about her child’s accomplishments, not necessarily out of pride, but to reflect well on her own parenting skills.
Conversely, any perceived shortcomings in her child become a threat to her image. She might downplay their achievements or even criticize them publicly to maintain a facade of control and superiority in the eyes of others. Ultimately, the well-being and genuine connection with her child become secondary to managing the public perception of a perfect mother and family.
She complains about people that do something against her will.
Narcissistic mothers view any challenge to their control as a personal attack. Their rigid sense of self-importance dictates that things should go their way. When someone, especially their child, dares to act independently or disagree, it triggers a deep sense of entitlement being violated. They may lash out by complaining excessively, playing the victim, or attempting to manipulate the situation back to their desired outcome.
These complaints serve a dual purpose: firstly, to punish the person for disobeying, and secondly, to garner sympathy or support from others, further reinforcing their position of authority. Ultimately, a narcissistic mother’s complaints about those who defy her are less about the specific action and more about maintaining a power dynamic where she remains in control.
Narcissistic mothers are jealous of their daughters’ beauty. And they pretend to be caring.
A narcissistic mother’s insecurity can turn a daughter’s blossoming beauty into a source of hidden jealousy. They may outwardly offer compliments laced with backhanded remarks, like «You look pretty, but maybe try a different shade of lipstick.» This thinly veiled criticism undermines the daughter’s confidence while maintaining a facade of caring.
Deeper down, the mother might feel threatened by her daughter’s youthful beauty, a stark reminder of her own fading youth and potential loss of attention. This jealousy can manifest in various ways, from sabotaging the daughter’s attempts to dress up for an event to subtly comparing her looks to others. The narcissistic mother’s mask of concern hides a desire to control the narrative, ensuring her daughter’s beauty doesn’t overshadow her own.
She criticizes a lot but almost never gives praise.
Narcissistic mothers often fall into a harsh critic pattern for a few reasons. Firstly, their self-worth is fueled by a need for control and a sense of superiority. Constant criticism keeps their child feeling insecure and dependent, less likely to challenge their authority. Secondly, genuine praise can feel threatening to a narcissist. If their child is successful or confident, it might overshadow the mother’s own perceived importance.
Instead of celebrating their child’s achievements, they might downplay them or even resort to nitpicking flaws. Ultimately, the lack of praise becomes a tool for manipulation. By withholding validation, the narcissistic mother keeps her child striving for approval, a dynamic that reinforces her own sense of power and control.
They’re angry if someone else is in the spotlight.
A narcissistic mother thrives on being the center of attention. Their fragile self-esteem craves constant validation and admiration. When someone else, especially their child, receives praise or recognition, it’s perceived as a direct threat. This triggers a surge of anger because it disrupts their carefully curated image of superiority. They might downplay the other person’s accomplishment, subtly criticize them, or even try to steal the spotlight back to themselves with tales of their own past glories.
This anger isn’t about protecting their child, but about protecting their own inflated sense of self-importance. They can’t bear to share the spotlight, and their reaction reflects a deep-seated insecurity that can leave their child feeling confused and emotionally neglected.
Narcissistic mothers might constantly remind you of the things they’ve done for you.
One is to create a sense of obligation and guilt. By replaying a litany of sacrifices and favors, they make you feel indebted, making it harder to disagree with them or assert your independence. It’s a way to control you through emotional manipulation. Another reason is to inflate their own sense of importance.
Recounting their «good deeds» reinforces their narrative as the selfless caregiver deserving of constant praise and gratitude. Ultimately, these constant reminders are about them, not you. It’s a tactic to maintain power within the relationship and ensure you remain focused on their needs rather than developing your own sense of self.
These narcissistic traits can take a toll. But there’s good news! Our next piece dives into how these experiences shape you, and what you heal from it.
Our Landlord Started Coming Daily to Check on the Apartment – When He Made a Scene about Spilt Coffee, We Had Enough
My bestie Jenna and I found the perfect vintage apartment with a seemingly sweet landlord, Mr. Whitaker. But things took a bizarre turn when his daily “inspections” and unsolicited advice crossed the line into creepy territory.
Hello! My name is Andrea, and anyone who has had to deal with a crazy landlord will relate to my story. So, here we go.
A few months ago, my bestie, Jenna, and I found this adorable two-bedroom apartment. It had that vintage charm, as well as brick walls, slightly creaky hardwood floors, and just this amazing cottage-core potential in the middle of the city.
A beautiful apartment living room | Source: Midjourney
The landlord, Mr. Whitaker, seemed like a sweet old guy, too, with gray hair and a kind smile. He looked a little like the grandfather from “Up,” except not grumpy.
I thought it was perfect, so we took it right away and signed the lease. For the first few months, it was bliss.
We decorated with quirky thrift store finds and turned every windowsill into a mini jungle. We even posted our journey on Instagram and did a lot of DIY craft stuff for more decorations. But then… things got weird.
Two people making crafts | Source: Pexels
It started innocently enough, so we didn’t have time to control things before they exploded. Let me explain a little better.
Mr. Whitaker showed up one day with a toolbox in hand. “Just checking the plumbing!” he said with a smile. That was amazing, right?
It was good to have a proactive landlord, one we didn’t have to call every day for a simple fix. But then he was back the next week. And the week after that.
An old man carrying a toolbox | Source: Midjourney
Soon, it was every. Single. Day. And his excuses got more and more ridiculous.
“Gotta inspect that wiring!”
“Those smoke detectors won’t check themselves!”
“Need to measure the air quality!”
I kid you not, he actually said this, and I had to Google if that was a real thing. Apparently, it was, so Jenna and I didn’t know what to think.
A woman with a puzzled expression | Source: Pexels
At first, we tried to be cool about it. We were like, “Maybe he’s just thorough? Or bored? Or really, REALLY into property maintenance?”
But nope, this issue got so much worse.
He came by another day without any kind of excuse and just looked around. Suddenly, he started critiquing our cleaning.
“You know, a little vinegar would get that stain out of the counter right out,” he said, pointing at a spot we didn’t even know existed.
Kitchen counters | Source: Unsplash
He also made these passive-aggressive comments about our lifestyle. “Back in my day, young ladies dressed much better with pretty sundresses, not sad, tight pants,” he muttered to me.
I was literally in my work clothes.
And sometimes he just… sat there. In our living room. Watching us like we were some kind of reality TV show.
He wasn’t exactly creepy yet, but Jenna and I were uncomfortable. If I wanted an old grumpy man to complain about my life and choices, I would’ve stayed at home with my parents.
A woman worried and uncomfortable | Source: Pexels
We had to start tiptoeing around our own apartment. It felt like he was here even in the rare times he didn’t show up.
Jenna and I even began to wonder if he was letting himself in when we weren’t around. Now, that was a creepy thought. But we had no proof.
One time, he showed up while Jenna was in the shower, and insisted on checking the bathroom sink right then and there.
I had to play bodyguard outside the bathroom door. Still, Jenna finished and came out quickly, and Mr. Whitaker got to work like this was perfectly normal.
A woman drying herself | Source: Pexels
Mortifying didn’t even begin to cover how we were feeling, and I was about to reach my breaking point.
Days later, he decided our furniture arrangement was “damaging the floor,” and tried to move our couch himself, nearly throwing out his back.
We had to help him sit down and get him some water. Eventually, we started keeping a log of his visits.
An old man on a couch drinking water | Source: Midjourney
It was our own bizarre diary:
Monday: Checked lightbulbs. Commented on dust.
Tuesday: Inspected windows. Criticized our choice of curtains.
Wednesday: ‘Fixed’ a door that wasn’t broken. Left it squeaking.
You get the idea. We were going nuts, but we were also kind of scared to confront him. What if he kicked us out?
A woman confused and worried | Source: Pexels
The rental market was brutal, and we loved this place (when he wasn’t in it).
Then came The Day.
It was a sunny Saturday morning. Jenna and I were having our weekend coffee, planning a day of brunch and thrift shopping.
I reached for the sugar and my elbow knocked over my cup. Coffee spilled over our cute little IKEA table and onto the floor.
That was no big deal, but before we could even grab a paper towel, we heard keys jingling.
Keys on a lock | Source: Pexels
The door flew open, and there was Mr. Whitaker. His face changed so quickly at seeing the mess and got so red, I swear he could’ve stopped traffic.
“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?!” he demanded, and his eyes almost bulged like a cartoon. “YOU’RE RUINING MY PROPERTY!”
I tried to calm him down. “I just spilled my coffee, Mr. Whitaker. We’ll clean it up, no worries!”
“JUST COFFEE?!” he screamed. I’m pretty sure I saw steam coming out of his ears. “DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH DAMAGE THAT CAN CAUSE?! IT’LL SEEP INTO THE FLOORBOARDS!”
An old man yelling | Source: Midjourney
Jenna and I shared a look that said, “This is it. We’ve reached our limit. No more Ms. Nice Tenant.”
As soon as Mr. Whitaker stormed out (but not before giving us a 20-minute lecture on the “proper way” to drink coffee), we started thinking.
What could we do to stop this?
We spent the rest of the day researching tenant rights, reading our lease agreement with a fine-tooth comb, and coming up with a battle plan.
Reading a document | Source: Pexels
And we decided to use a secret weapon: a security system. (Yes, it’s legal in most cases for tenants to install their own security cameras.)
We had someone install it as soon as the system was delivered. It came with motion sensors, cameras, and a loud alarm. It also connected to the internet.
Jenna and I installed the app, and we were ready. It was definitely out of place, considering our decor and general style, but Mr. Whitaker had forced our hand.
A phone with several apps | Source: Pexels
So, the next day, we activated everything and left for our respective jobs.
Lo and behold, around 11 a.m., my phone started buzzing like crazy. The alarm had been triggered. I checked the cameras, and as expected, it was Mr. Whitaker, who had let himself in.
I called Jenna, and together we decided to call the cops, although we only used the non-emergency line. Then, we each left our jobs early.
A woman at work making a call | Source: Pexels
When we got to our apartment, Mr. Whitaker was in a heated argument with two very unimpressed-looking police officers.
“This is MY apartment!” he yelled, his face matching the color of a ripe tomato. “I have every right to be here! I OWN this building!”
The younger cop looked so done, so we approached and introduced ourselves.
“Sir,” he said slowly, “you may own this place, but you have tenants. You can’t just enter whenever you want. That’s not how this works. They have a right to privacy.”
Cops working a case | Source: Pexels
When Mr. Whitaker began sputtering, I pulled out the lease agreement, pointing out the clause about 24-hour notice for non-emergency entry.
The older cop nodded at me as if he already knew that clause would be there. Jenna and I thought this moment was great to point out how Mr. Whitaker often barged in, not taking no for an answer, and made us uncomfortable.
The officer’s frown increased the more we talked.
A cop with his arms crossed | Source: Pexels
After a huge sigh, he turned to Mr. Whitaker. “Sir, you’re in violation of the lease terms. These young women have a right to take this matter further.”
I was expecting the old landlord to complain some more, but he deflated like a sad balloon. He probably felt cornered.
He mumbled something about just trying to take care of his property, and I decided to lay it out for him.
“Mr. Whitaker, we appreciate that you care about the building. But there’s caring, and then there’s… whatever this is. We’re responsible tenants. We’ll let you know if anything needs fixing. But you can’t keep barging in like this. It’s not okay.”
A woman with a worried look | Source: Pexels
Mr. Whitaker avoided my eyes.
Jenna added her two cents. “Being a good landlord doesn’t mean invading our privacy. We just want to feel comfortable in our own home. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”
The old grump nodded, but I could tell it was a begrudging agreement, so the cops gave him an official warning. They explained that if it happened again, he could face legal consequences.
Mr. Whitaker nodded again, but it was more serious, although he still looked like a kid who’d been told Santa wasn’t real.
A sad old man | Source: Midjourney
I felt bad for the sad, old man. He might have been lonely, but I don’t regret it because it’s been blissfully quiet since.
He has stuck to the lease terms like they’re glued to his hands. Not only that, but he schedules visits in advance, keeps them brief, and actually waits for us to let him in.
So here’s what I learned: Know your rights as a tenant. Document everything. Don’t be afraid to stand up for yourself. And a good security system is worth its weight in gold!
Two women laughing on a couch | Source: Pexels
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