You reach a point where you can’t keep letting it go.
It’s not just one thing. It’s that it starts to add up. The comments, the unwanted advice, the way things get turned around… the way you end up feeling after almost every interaction.
So you decide to say something.
You think it through—you’ve given it a lot of thought. You’ve even rehearsed it in the shower, for God’s sake. You’re pretty sure any reasonable person would see your point.
And you do all this because part of you still holds onto the hope—
If I say this the right way, she’ll finally get it.
And then you do it.
In fear and trembling, you muster up your courage. Your heart in your throat, you finally say something.
You say what’s been bothering you—carefully, reasonably, as kindly as possible. You try to explain what it’s like from your side—that she might not have intended to hurt you, but…
At first, she listens.
Or at least it looks like she’s listening.
And then she says:
“What’s been going on with you?”
“I don’t remember saying that.”
“You’re just too sensitive.”
And just like that, something shifts.
The conversation comes to a standstill.
Then it morphs into something else entirely.
It goes sideways. Off the tracks.
Now you’re trying to bring it back—to the original point—but what’s the point?
You’ve already lost your footing.
Now you’re explaining yourself. Clarifying. Trying to make it make sense. Trying to get her to hear you.
But you can feel it happening—things have gone wrong. Horribly wrong.
Her walls go up. Something in her eyes goes cold.
The psychological defenses that keep her feelings of shame and inadequacy buried—out of consciousness—are in full protection mode. An impenetrable fortress.
Nothing is getting in.
What you had hoped would be a discussion about making the relationship better becomes something else entirely.
A battle.
A winner-take-all fight for control.
It usually goes one of two ways.
She escalates.
Anger. Defensiveness. Pushing back. She comes out swinging—and she’ll throw anything at you. Nothing is off limits. Any sense of fair play or goodwill- gone.
The mother you assumed loved and cared about you becomes someone you’re doing battle with—Scary Mom.
In her mind, there is a winner and a loser.
And she is determined to come out on top.
Or she collapses.
Now you have a crying mother on your hands.
“I guess I’m just a terrible mother.”
“I can’t do anything right.”
Either way, you’re no longer talking about what you came to say.
Not even close.
One thing is consistent—in both scenarios, you feel like a bad person for having brought it up in the first place.
Crappy. Awful.
To try to save yourself, you go into damage control.
You steady things. Soften it. Walk it back. Apologize for upsetting her.
What were you thinking?
It must have been something else—
And you deflect to a familiar, mutually agreed-upon bad guy: your partner, your boss, the state of the world.
Certainly not her.
This is why these conversations start to feel like they’re just not worth it.
Because you did the thing you’re supposed to do.
You spoke up.
And it didn’t lead anywhere.
Not anywhere good.
It’s not that you said it wrong.
There’s nothing wrong with how you put it.
She didn’t have ears to hear it.
What you run into isn’t just resistance.
It’s a brick wall.
Impenetrable.
As much as you hate to admit it, the evidence is undeniable.
Your mother doesn’t have the emotional tools for anything other than reassurance, agreement, or obedience.
Over time, it starts to feel like there’s only one language she can hear.
And unless you’re reassuring her, or soothing her, or keeping things intact—
She can’t hear you.
Not in the way that makes a difference.
It doesn’t matter how clearly you say it or how much sense it makes.
A mother high in narcissistic or borderline traits, or emotional immaturity, is unlikely to be capable of taking in your perspective.
The rigidity is the point.
It keeps everything else out.
Which means the conversation can’t hold what you’re trying to bring into it.
Not because it isn’t valid.
But because it isn’t something she can take in.
These “failed” attempts bring clarity.
They expose the imbalance in the relationship.
They show you, unmistakably, what is and isn’t possible.
And that’s where something begins to shift in you.
You start wondering if you have anything of value to say.
If this feels familiar, it’s not just about confrontation.
It shows up in smaller interactions too, where conversations gradually move in a way that leaves you feeling worse rather than clearer.
👉 When Your Mother Presses You To Talk & It Makes You Feel Worse
And over time, it doesn’t stay contained to what you say out loud.
It starts shaping what you think, what you hold back, and what feels safe to even bring into the room.
👉 When Mom Asks—What Did You Talk About in Therapy?
At a certain point, the question changes.
It’s no longer:
How do I say this so she understands me?
It becomes:
What happens when I say something that should be understandable—and it still goes this way?
Because at that point, you’re not just looking for a better way to say it.
You’re starting to see what the interaction can and can’t hold.
This is part of what I call The Good Daughter Syndrome.
Not a single moment.
But a way of relating that shapes what gets said, what gets heard, and what never quite lands—
no matter how clearly you say it.
You reach a point where you can’t keep letting it go.
Hello, I have just finished your wonderful book. In it I found confirmation of some important insights I have had, as well as some helpful new tools. If you do a new edition of this book, I would suggest adding info for those whose mothers have passed away. But I can extrapolate most of what you have written for my situation.
Thank you so much for your good work!
Shelley Mitchell
Hi Shelley,
Thank you for writing and I’m glad you found the book helpful.
I certainly will take your advice into consideration if I write another edition. After all, it is the mother who lives in our head, living or not, that continues to influence us. And while you can;t change the past, you can change the meaning it has. My mother is gone as well and I frequently revisit her influence on me and I ponder what influences she was operating under as well- as we are all born under different circumstances.
If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, it would appreciate it if you would consider leaving me a rating on Amazon.
Books on Amazon live or die with reviews. And potential readers DO read them. Nothing speaks more loudly than a reader who was helped by reading the book in their own words. If you might consider this, here’s the link. https://a.co/d/dpHUy9H.
My best for your continued liberation and thank you for your input.
Take care,
Katherine
My mother has turned my sibling against me. After having a baby she got worse. Although I realize that as narcissistic moms become more malignant with age, I thought things would change after I became a mother. I stupidly thought this would soften her. I already don’t have a relationship with my father. After years of abuse, I have to see them for who they are and heal. That unfortunately looks like no contact and estrangement from my side. I will never understand her favorite game of starting drama by pinning us all against each other. She finally succeeded and I now do not have a relationship with my youngest sibling. I’m betrayed, hurt, and angry. As a mother myself I can not fathom why she has to do all the things she has done. From punishing me by having me institutionalized multiple times, to making false claims that I am psychotic, even a witch hunt done by her church in a campaign against me.
I’m a very reserved lonely woman because I only trust my husband. I’m not comfortable making friends, because she will contact them, and I’ve lost friends this way. Private detectives have followed me and I have been harassed in the past. She pretends well, strong martyr complex, and I am just the bitch in her grande production. I just want to live my life and heal from 30 years of pain, manipulation, and psychological torture. I was sexually abused by one of her husbands and I just want to heal. She truly is a horrible mother. But there is hope. She has taught me everything what not to be as I raise my own child.
Hi Anonymous,
This sounds so very painful. And just as you need kindness and mothering- to support you as a mother- you are the victim of betrayal.
I hear your resolve to turn this around and use your experience as a template of what not to do with your own daughter. I hope you will find peace and healing along side of connecting with people you can trust. Mothers need support.
Best of luck,
Katherine
I have not spoken to my mother in a few years. She has been taken into custody several times and placed on Psyche wards several times. She is verbally, mentally and physically abusive towards family members. She has been diagnosed with a personality disorder which appears to be NPD.
I had to cut all ties with her because she denies the physical abuse even when it has been witnessed by others. It’s as though she will boast to some people about what she did and to me specifically she will deny even though there exists a paper trail on her with both the police and the hospital. In fact every time there exists a paper trail she moves to another state.
I cannot even begin to tell you how horrible of a person she is! The strangest part is that she has no boundaries. If she can’t get to me she will try to use my spouse or kids to send vile messages to, then she will say to them (as they refuse to respond to her crazy) in a message that “it’s too bad you are being involved in this” or some other tactic to spark a response.
She has also caused scenes at my place of employment with her rage and violence. I am a quiet person that keeps to themselves and prefer zero attention and zero drama in my life. Unfortunately she craves anger, drama and conflict at all times. Also she is a closet alcoholic and abuses her medications.
Dear LFW,
Thank you for sharing your experience. It sounds like you have been through hell and back. I certainly wish you some well-deserved peace in your life.
Take care,
Katherine
This is the norm from my mother. I do not know how to reply to her; I am at a loss. Anything I say gets twisted. I am dammed if I do and damned if I don’t.
I just received this text this morning. I have purposely pulled back to try and take care of my own mental health.
” please be kind and just tell me you don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore, if that’s how you feel and want it to be.”
Last week it was this. “Are you available and willing to talk with me??”
Any suggestion would be greatly appreciated.
Hi M.B.
I totally hear you. There is probably a reason you feel at a loss. You said it yourself, you are damned if you do and damned if you don’t. If you are like many – the problem is that you want closure or at least to retreat from the exchange and she wants to keep it going.
Although it can feel socially awkward to not respond, sometimes that is the only way to stop the back and forths is to stop looking for the response that satisfies her. That is probably not possible.
Some folks I have worked with have used the phrase, ” Mom I don’t have anything constructive to say at this point, If that changes I will be in touch. For now, I will not be answering your messages.”
And then the hard part is standing by your words-not letting her bait you.
Good luck and yes you have the right to disengage from communication you feel is not constructive. Notice this approach doesn’t involve name calling, insults or threats…. just the facts and your intention.
Katherine
Hello, my daughter sent me the information telling me that this is how she feels! After reading some of the information I know that I was a “good daughter”. I never pulled away and I took care of my mother until she passed. I also protected my mother from inappropriate behavior from my father when I was a teenager. I don’t know if she ever knew. She’s been gone for 11 years and I miss her but I want to move on. Your article says that I will behave adversely towards my daughter to coming to me with this information but I have thought about it for several days. I want to tell her that I understand and I want to change but there’s that part of me that wants her to want to call me and see me more. I want a good relationship with her and my granddaughters. What can I read to help me move on and understand a healthy relationship? My health has been bad and I’m trying to come to terms with that as well. Thank you!
Hi Tamara-
Bravo for your honesty and resolve to make things better with your daughter. That is rare- but when it happens- it is wonderful and a really good sign that you have what it takes to stop a cycle. So good for you – pat yourself on the back.
I am a mother of two adult daughters and can tell you it isn’t easy to do things differently, but it is so worth it.
If you want advice, I’d say start by encouraging you to say what you have said to me—that you see where all of this comes from and want a better relationship with your daughter than you had with your mother- one born of mutual respect, not obligation and guilt. And that yes, you recognize the way you have been responding has not been ideal, but you are willing to work hard to make things better. That is gold. That will eventually ( if not right away) make her want to be closer.
Secondly, giving up the idea ( if you have it) that guilting her will bring her closer. You can say you wish that you all were in closer contact and you can ask her what you can do to make her feel more comfortable around you. Then, and this is really important ( and hard to do) – don’t get defensive. Take what she tells you seriously and let hr know by your actions , not just your words,that you will meet her on her terms.
If she is like many daughters, she will soften when she feels emotionally safe to come around, and you will see her more.
If you just demand she come around and guilt her- she might do so- but it will only be out of obligation, which doesn’t feel good to anyone. Of course, you know that already 🙂
Since you resonate with the Good Daughter Syndrome, get my book. There is a ton of information that can help. The ebook is $2.99 through Mother’s Day.
I wish you the best of luck. I’d love to see you all come together and prove that you are a good daughter in recovery, not a narcissist!
When we know better, we can do better. Remember, I’m on the journey with you as a recovering Good Daughter myself!
Take care,
Katherine
I just recently found out that I am a mother with BPD, and I am still dealing with realizing that my own mother is a covert narcissist. I also just learned that someone with BPD normally grows up with a narcissistic parent. It definitely helps me feel not as guilty being me, but at the same time, I feel immensely full of guilt with the thought of doing to my daughter what my mom did to me. As a matter of fact, I just shared with my daughter your article about growing up with a mother with BPD. Thank you so much for everything you are doing and keep up the great work!!