Narcissism

| Reading time: 8 minutes


Oh, hey again. You’re still here. Can’t find your way out of this void by chance? Or maybe you’re settling in and just looking for a place to stay for a while, like me. Nevertheless, you are welcome to stay as long as you like. Mind if I share a few thoughts with you while you’re here?

When I was young, I was oblivious to what I was being subjected to as far as trauma is concerned. What makes things even more complicated is that while a large percentage of my trauma was religious in nature, that trauma wasn’t just experienced within the church, but at home as well. Religious trauma is very messy - it’s often generational and if it isn’t dealt with in the parents of a family, it will often be passed down from them as well as enforced by them. Toxic religion breeds narcissism, which breeds trauma to anyone unlucky enough to be under a narcissist’s authority.

PsychCentral has a great article covering 15 narcissistic religious abuse tactics ( https://psychcentral.com/pro/exhausted-woman/2015/05/15-narcissistic-religious-abuse-tactics ). I want to highlight the first 7 of the 15 tactics that they list:

  1. It begins with dichotomous thinking, diving people into two parts. Those who agree with the narcissists beliefs and those who don’t. Interestingly, only the narcissist is the judge and jury of who belongs on which side. Your opinion is insignificant.
  2. Then the narcissist makes fun of, belittles, and shows prejudice towards other beliefs. This tactic is done to remind you that if you change your views, you will be treated likewise.
  3. Suddenly the narcissist becomes elitist and refuses to associate with people or groups they consider impure or unholy. They prefer isolation and insist you do the same while condemning others who don’t.
  4. Next, the narcissist requires that you completely adopt their point of view. There is no room for differing opinions or questioning their authority. Any voicing of opinions to the contrary are met with threats of abandonment or divorce. There is no free will for you.
  5. Demands of total submission without question follow. You are not free to question their authority and any attempt to do so is met with spiritual, physical, and/or verbal discipline. Name calling, chastising, and the silent treatment are common maneuvers into compliance.
  6. The narcissist is no longer satisfied with private dominion but instead needs the appearance of power in public. They expect strict adherence to whatever image they have created regardless of the accuracy of that image. Even the slightest hint of challenging their facade is met with quick and cruel reprimands.
  7. To further intimidate, the narcissist labels people who don’t comply with their beliefs as disobedient, rebellious, lacking faith, demons, or enemies of the faith. This is done in front of others to reinforce their opinions and instill fear inside and outside the family.

As a teenager, I began to question what I believed as a Christian – not necessarily the idea of leaving Christianity entirely, but simply what branch of Christianity I most aligned with. When I presented some of my thoughts with my parents, I was met with looks of fear and concern, quickly followed by a serious and stern “talking to” about the dangers of belief systems outside of our direct denominational affiliation. I was given a book to read about why our beliefs were right and others were not only wrong but bad and dangerous. It was evident that I could not bring my curiosity and desire for understanding to my parents safely.

A couple of years passed by. My family eventually started attending a different church that had more focus on ministering to the youth, which eventually led to me having religious experiences that made me feel more in line with my parents’ belief system. That of course was welcomed by them and met with praise and encouragement. Of course, that positive encouragement made me feel less unsafe, which only encouraged me even further to not challenge the status quo. After graduating college, I decided to work for a religious organization that fell under the same denomination of my parents’ beliefs, which only further solidified my position in my parents’ blessing and approval of my life.

It couldn’t last forever, though. I would eventually reach a place in my life where I would question things again. Ironically enough, some of my beliefs began to crumble thanks to the biblical training I was required to undergo from the organization that I worked for. They encouraged listening to outside beliefs and ideas – as long as it didn’t directly contradict the denomination’s established beliefs. If you give a mouse a cookie, though… or should I say, if you give me a taste of seeking the truth and knowledge, I’m going to want more.

Fast forward a few more years. The crumbling of my old belief structure eventually gave way to a lot of my childhood wounds resurfacing as I began to find myself constantly anxious of ever being confronted by my parents about my new beliefs. They already had a track record of overstepping their boundaries outside of religious affairs by trying to tell me what I should do with my life when it came to my career, finances, or where I chose to live.

I started attending therapy because of it all - I felt trapped and unsafe, even though I was no longer living under their roof and rule. I was scared of the idea that if I shared what I believed with them, that they would cut me off out of their lives. The idea of being cut off by my parents felt hitting rock bottom - I would be desolate and alone, or that’s what I felt like at least. Because of my parents’ narcissistic tendencies, my inner child was still under the impression that they were my whole world and that for me to feel safe and fulfilled, I had to keep them satisfied and approving of me.

Over the next year or two, I tried to slowly share about my personal journey with my parents – my shifting religious beliefs, my newfound awareness of mental health, etc. by writing articles and blog posts. At first things were met with approval and encouragement, but I still found myself being met with narcissistic tendencies from them. My plan to slowly introduce them to the current and real version of myself was seeming to prove ineffective. I started to give up hope that I could ever be any version of myself around them other than the one that smiled, never had problems, and always agreed with them on any and every issue.

I finally came to the conclusion that going no contact could actually be best thing for my own wellbeing. My attempts to acclimate them to the real me were rooted in my inner child’s need for unconditional love and approval from parents, but it was clear I was not going to get that from them.

Let me be clear on something before moving forward - I do not see my parents just as complete monsters. They are victims of their own trauma and narcissism as well, and that is what fuels and perpetuates the narcissism in their own lives. That being said, though, being a victim of narcissism justify the perpetuation it. While I feel a certain level of sorrow and grief for them, the fact of the matter is that I am not their parents, they are mine. I cannot be responsible for the healing that they need. I can only be responsible for my own. Sometimes that means providing the love and protection for my inner child that they did not receive from their own parents.

Before going complete “no contact” with them, I tried one last time to be vulnerable and open myself up to them. I explained how my own needs had not been met in my life, that I understood how they also did not have their own needs met, and how my current boundaries were not being respected. Unsurprisingly, this was met with further narcissistic behavior.

My parents acted like all of this was a shock to them, like it was their first time hearing any of it. They had strong emotional outbursts and tried to rope my partner’s parents into the situation. I had no choice but to enforce no contact to the best of my abilities. I blocked any sources of contact from them and only allowed them to reach out to me through my partner, and only if it was necessary or an emergency.

My attempts at no contact were quickly dismantled though, as multiple people in our extended family died soon after, so communications about the funeral arrangements were necessary, as well as me staying at their house while I was in town for the funerals.

At this point, my father and I may text on occasion, I may call them on their birthdays, or I may even visit them over a holiday, but that is all. It’s very minimal communication - surface level at best, and I feel like it’s finally manageable from an anxiety standpoint. It’s not what I would call an ideal scenario, but it’s an improvement.

That’s been my personal experience with narcissism. It’s really taken a toll on my life and has taken years to get to this place. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about progress for the relationship with my partner’s parents, but that’s a story for another day.

Since you have found yourself here in this restless corner of the void with me, my thought is that you have had similar experiences. My hope is that hearing my experiences can bring a glimmer of hope that progress can be made, or at least inspire a feeling that you aren’t alone.