Letter to the Daughter of a Narcissist
The first Thanksgiving after going "no contact" with my mother, after our guests had left and and the kitchen was put back in order, and the leftovers stashed in the fridge, my husband and I made our way to the porch, lit a bonfire and relaxed. Simple.
But in 20 years of marriage, it was the first time we had ever relaxed after a holiday. Our contentment was the direct result of my mother having been absent, prevented from sowing seeds of discord, anxiety and self-doubt. It was the first holiday during which the convening hours were not spent recovering from an emotional hangover.
Peace and tranquility should not feel like guilty pleasures.
Forgive your grandparents for defending your mother. If their daughter has alienated you, she has likely made a mess of other areas of her life. They are hurting for her. For your own peace, ask your grandparents not to discuss your mother with you. That's triangulation, and unhealthy.
Sending emissaries to persuade you of your bad behavior is the tool narcissists use to manipulate you from afar.
You will be admonished by well-meaning people. My answer to those who don't understand how I could sever ties with my mother is this: the need for a mother's love is primal. For a person to forego that relationship, to end contact with her mother, indicates something was terribly amiss.
I know a few people, men and women, who have left their abusive mothers for their own survival. It is a last resort, an act of self-preservation.
No one walks away from her mother for trifling reasons.
All of my motherless friends, whatever their ages, myself included, have a vacancy where the love of a mother should be. Please find someone to help walk you through this. My decision took years of counseling (ten) and spiritual direction (six). Don't try to do it alone.
When people tell you “Get over it,” or “Move on,” remind yourself that recovering from childhood abuse by a narcissistic mother is a lifelong process of healing.