Olivia’s Substack

Narcissistic Parents and the Cults they "Raise"

Olivia — Fri, 21 Mar 2025 14:38:32 GMT

I always see stories of people who go no contact with their narcissist parents, and in their stories they discuss their journey of rediscovery and healing. However something I personally haven’t seen is the backlash some might get from their siblings. I’m currently in the middle of that exact experience and i’d like to share some realizations and thoughts i’ve had. In a way I was raised in a cult. Except our leader never claimed to be close to god. She never claimed to be divinely chosen. Somehow it was way worse. She claimed to be our mother. Considering all four of us are adopted and experienced some level of abandonment from that experience, her claiming to be our mother was a trojan horse. We were told from the very beginning that we should be grateful because we were thrown away but she “saved” us and now we have our very own mom. We should be grateful because there are so many children who were in our position who never got adopted. That is the narrative that was fed to me and my siblings and the beginning of the “cult”. Unsurprisingly we drank the kool aid. We were children and she was the only mother we had known and we were reminded of that constantly. We never wanted to lose her and we never wanted her to “give us back”. So everything we ever did had to be for her. She was our “messiah”……our savior. This “code” led to a very self sacrificing life. Only her wants and needs mattered. Only what she was going through deserved patience and empathy. She was such a “saint” for taking us in as single woman so we need to just accept her abuse. As a matter of fact, if she’s abusing us it’s our fault. We obviously did something to deserve it. Never were we ever justified in being upset or sad or hurt by her actions, because her pain was more important than ours. Any attempt to set a boundry was a direct disrespect to the woman that saved us. Anything she threw at us we were raised to accept without resistance and internalize it as a punishment for being a bad person. I was the baby. By the time I came along my siblings were in middle school. They had been operating under this code for years and had normalized it. Their reward for this was “quality time” with our mom. Which was rare to get. She dangled her time and approval in their faces and gave them scraps. But hey scraps are better than nothing ………right? Then I came along and for some reason she hyper fixated on me. Now the “reward” my sibling craved and competed for was given to me freely. I spent the most time with our mom. She gave me the most attention and from the outside looking in my siblings thought I was lucky and envied me. To them I got the closest to “their” mom, and did nothing to “earn” it. But from the inside looking out I was held captive, constantly under her ice cold and un forgiving gaze. Constantly being belittled and putt down, being abused physically, mentally, and emotionally. Never allowed space away from her, and stripped of any identity outside of the one she gave me. Forced to accept the narratives she’d spin about me and restricted from ever building a close bond with anyone, including my siblings. She pitted us against each other and spread misinformation like it was a game. Truly a divide and conquer mentality. And what did I do about it? I pushed back. I had insight my siblings didn’t have. I knew what her “love” felt like and it hurt. Her “love” included killing my dog when I was on a school trip, because it was the one thing that brought me a sense of safety and she was all I ever talked about. Or waking me up to a belt at night because I was sleeping on top of the blanket instead of under it. The more I pushed the more I was labeled the problem. My teenage years were just a barrage of traumatizing control tactics by mother and an ongoing campaign to paint me as a problem child, and the only way out was to bend to her will. Fast forward to all of us being adults. I am the only one who has completely cut her off. I went from being the “favorite”, to being the black sheep. And my siblings view that as the ultimate betrayal. I left the cult. I stopped putting her first. I stopped sacrificing my energy, mental and physical health for her. I stopped normalizing her abuse and I held her accountable for her actions. I validated my and my siblings trauma, even if they themselves don’t. I betrayed our savior so I am exiled. It’s a hard pill to swallow as I love my siblings. Unfortunately the love we shared in the past was powered by me being self sacrificing, and was dependent on if I aligned with their beliefs. That our mom can never do wrong and everything she says and does to us is justified. I no longer see things that way….and now I realized they never loved me for me……as much as they loved me for what I upheld. Now i’m not saying they don’t truly love me because i’d like to hope deep down they do. Unfortunately the brain washing and programming is sowed so deep in them i’m not sure they realize that. I cut my mother off and my family cut me off in return. However no amount of isolation or gaslighting will ever make me return. Because the last three years has been the best of my entire life. It hasn’t been easy but the peace i’ve acquired made me realize I never once had peace before. I will never sacrifice that again. In truth, my siblings are not angry with me because I left…..they’re angry with me because deep down they wish they could leave too. Healing was lonely, but my own company is better than the entire household I grew up in. I’m happy to say there was light at the end of the tunnel. I managed to attract a real family through my healing. People who truly love me. It’s hard to turn away from all you’ve ever known. But if you don’t, you’ll never know all you could have.

An Un-Grateful Adoptee

Olivia — Sat, 08 Feb 2025 00:38:09 GMT

Should I be grateful? What exactly does that entail in terms of adoption? Does the act of a stranger choosing to essentially buy a child to raise as their own outweigh the lifetime of abuse some adoptees experience at the hands of their adopter? I wonder how many people who look into adopting genuinely ask themselves the question of why they’re doing it, and what they expect to get out of it? Really that’s a trick question because if you’re expecting anything out of it other than becoming a parent, then you shouldn’t be adopting. Society has romanticized being a mother so severely that the experience that is expected is unattainable. It’s on a pedestal too high for reality to ever reach. There are so many women who spend their whole life dreaming about being a mother and happily consume the fairytale. Some of those women run into road blocks when trying to conceive and choose to adopt, either as a last resort or in some cases because that’s what they truly want. The issue arises when their impossible expectations of motherhood fall onto the unsuspecting shoulders of an innocent adoptee. That dynamic sets up years of abuse, guilt tripping, and so much more for that adoptee. And what happens when and if that adoptee speaks up? They are told they should be grateful that they were even adopted in the first place and the abusive cycle continues. I have a sneaking suspicion there’s a connection between people with Münchausen by proxy and abusive adoption cases. However it’s displayed a bit differently. The attention they seek is praise for “opening their home to unwanted children”. More like a savior complex really. They feed off the idea of being seen and praised as a saint. When in truth they are the furthest thing from it. They remind their adopted child that they are indeed, adopted, and should be grateful they didn’t end up growing up in the system. I mean really imagine what it does to a child, to be left by their birth parents, only to be hated by their adoptive ones. I don’t have to imagine because that is my experience. We as a society really need to re-examine what the adoption process looks like. let’s start with the requirements for someone to adopt. Speaking on a broad level to adopt a child in the United States, the average requirements include being at least 21 years old, having a stable income, passing a criminal background check, undergoing a home study, providing references, and demonstrating the ability to provide a safe and nurturing environment for a child. Of course this varies in different states but in my particular experience as an adoptee in the south, the main requirement is money. Do you notice something that’s missing that’s seems important? Well for one an in depth and intensive psychological evaluation, preferably one that takes up to a good two months of consistent visits with a psychologist and therapist. Here’s the thing, references can be faked, and as efficient as a home study sounds the adopter has ample time to prepare their home and meticulously create an environment that seems “perfect” for a child. The only thing solid on that list is the criminal background check and the financial requirements, and in my personal experience in the south….money talks. Case and point my adopted mother adopted me when I was one month old and she 45 years old. At the time she was a millionaire and had adopted three other children on her own. She seemed like the perfect candidate except she absolutely was not. What the adoption agency did not know was that she was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's Disease in her early 40’s. She hid the diagnoses from the adoption agency and the children who she adopted. Her behavior growing up was fueled with anger, rage, erratic and impulsive decisions, and constant financial strife. She showed serious narcissistic character traits and waged war on me and my siblings mental, emotional, and physical health. However, at the time, on paper she was perfect. As I said money talks. Not only that but often times these adoption agencies are underfunded and over crowded. They bend the rules just to place a child in a home. I wish this was more black and white but it’s really just not. There are good and bad players on both ends. There are people working at these agencies that truly mean well and do their very best to help the children in their case load. The same goes for people looking to adopt. There are people who have a truly open and loving heart and are adopting for all the right reasons (which really is just to care for a child regardless of where they come from , and meet them where their at). Unfortunately there’s a much darker side to it all and I really haven’t even scratched the surface. There’s no clear cut answer and in truth the entire system needs to be gutted from the ground up. So what can we do right now to make a difference. Well for starters stop putting adoption on a pedestal and romanticizing the people who choose to adopt. Although it’s a beautiful thing to care for and nurture a child, it is not grounds for sainthood. There’s a level of respect that comes with it, and I am in no way discounting that, but let’s not allow that to blind us to blatant red flags. People who adopt are not above criticism and they are not immune from engaging in abusive and neglectful behavior. Lastly for the love of all things holy STOP TELLING ADOPTEES THEY SHOULD BE GRATEFUL. Everyone needs to understand that an adoptee enters this world with a loss, and not just any loss, but the loss of the one person or persons who are supposed to love you unconditionally. We have every right to the emotions that come with that and those emotions are valid. We shouldn't be expected to accept any and all kinds of treatment from our adopted parents because THEY chose to adopt us. We are not property, we are human beings with complex emotions. We deserve space and grace to just exist in this world as we are without the constant reminder that we should be “grateful” that someone wanted us when our biological parents either didn’t want us or couldn't keep us. It’s important to remember that we never had a choice in any of this, and we are just trying to maneuver our own identity outside of everyone else’s choices about our lives.

Breaking The Cycle

Olivia — Fri, 07 Feb 2025 06:11:33 GMT

Prologue

I wrote this letter recently to my mom. I went no contact with her in 2021 after loosing my nephew, who took his own life. The events that led up to his passing and the events that happened afterward opened up my eyes. I spent the next 3 years healing, grieving, and growing. Recently things have come to a head and my mother has created a narrative in which she is the victim and I the abuser for no longer engaging with her. I decided it was finally time I spoke my truth and set down a finite boundary. Some important things to note before reading this letter. I was adopted when I was 1 month old, and my mother was 45 at the time, so she is the only mother i’ve ever known. My mother is narccassistic and has caused me a lifetime of trauma, but despite that I do believe she got worse with age. I believe this even more so now that I know she was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's in her mid to late 40’s. She refused to accept that diagnoses and hid it for most of my life. With that new information i’ve struggled allot with my decision to go no contact, however I understand now that in order for me to heal it had to be done. At one point in her life I do think she had good intentions. My mother also took guardianship of 3 of my nephews when they were toddlers. At that time I was in middle school. I putt in a great deal of effort and time raising them and trying to supplement the lack of nurture they didn’t get from my own mother. Growing up along side them was like watching the cycle of abuse repeat right in front of me. I still suffer from allot of survival guilt, and it’s only become more intense since I went no contact. I was never the perfect aunt and let them down in allot of ways, but I tried my best given the circumstances. The dynamics in my family are incredibly nuanced and complicated, and I hope to shed light on my perspective with each post. I think it’s fitting to begin this journey with an ending.

Hey mom we haven’t spoken in a while so I thought I’d break the ice. I’m aware we haven’t spoken in about 3 years maybe more. Whether that was a mutual choice or one sided I think it’s time to talk. I want to start by saying I pulled away after Rod’s death for many reasons. After the altercation we had at the old house allot of words were exchanged. You told me you never wanted to see me again. You might not remember that but I do. I took that to heart and I couldn’t say I didn’t feel the same after everything. However I never blocked you from speaking to me. These past three years you had the ability to reach out as well, I never stopped you from speaking to me. I just honored what you said. The only apology I have for you is that I’m sorry things came to a head the way they did. Emotions were incredibly high after rod’s funeral and things came to a boil. I acted out of character and am genuinely sorry for that. I’m sorry you had to find him the way you did. When I initially took a step away from you it was because I needed to calm down and grieve. But after a while I realized a few things. You and I have never had a healthy relationship and I no longer was going to try single handedly to make it healthy. You are not a forgiving person and you never have been my entire life. You’ve held on to every little thing I have done and have had no problem reminding me any chance you got. You’ve never once forgiven me for even the smallest mistake. You’ve held me to an impossible standard and harshly punished me when I inevitably messed up. However up until Rod’s passing I did my best to forgive you for everything you’ve done. I tried to push past it because I just wanted to be loved by you. I had hoped that you’d change with time. Soften up and be open to a healthy conversation and I made a point focus on the positive memories instead of the negative ones. But when we went to Seattle I realized you hadn’t changed in the way I’d hoped. I heard everything you said to Rod on that phone. I witnessed it for myself and you spoke venom with each word. You were harsh and unyielding. You showed no grace or mercy. I understood he putt you in a bad situation but Rod was still a child and didn’t deserve the kind of hate you spoke to him. And when you speak like that to someone their whole life it takes a tole on them, and not everyone can push past that. I wasn’t perfect towards Rod. I got angry too, especially when I was a teenager, but I always made a point to apologize to him and putt in a great deal of effort to change and be better not just for him but for myself because I loved him and didn’t want to hurt him. That’s what you do when you love someone. Forgiveness is not something you taught me. I had to learn that from others. I could sit here and explain every-time you’ve broken my heart. All the times you made it clear you regret adopting me. All the times you tried to “return” me like a stray animal to child services. All the times you labeled me the problem when really I was just a reflection of all the things you hated about yourself. The consistent medical neglect. All the times I was vulnerable with you and you took it as an opportunity to cause more pain. Or in particular when I told you about the sexual and physical abuse I experienced in child services and you showed no empathy, and later on when I left for New York you told me I would get raped and there would be no one to help me and you wouldn’t care. But truthfully I don’t believe you’ll ever feel sorry about it enough to actually voice it, or worse you’ll claim it never happened. I always told myself you do these things because truthfully you don’t want to be alone and you’re convinced the only way to keep a person in your life is to control them with fear or finances. I don’t think you were loved the way you deserved to be growing up and it distorted how you loved others. My memories of you aren’t all bad and I try my best to remember the positive moments I’ve had with you as well. I remember singing Christmas carols in the car, and how you were the only person in the house that didn’t stop me from singing even if it was bad. I remember how you’d always let me play in your hair. How we use to cuddle every night when we shared a bed at West Hampton. The mornings when you’d take your time to do my hair and the evenings when you’d make sure I took my Flintstones vitamins. In those moments it felt like you loved me and treated me as a child and so it was safe for me to be a kid. I knew you cared about my well being in those moments. I’m grateful for the financial support you provided me in New York and the encouraging words you gave me when I felt like giving up. I’ve seen glimpses of a kinder side to you throughout my life but the problem is that they’re only glimpses. I genuinely think you were kinder and softer when I was too young to remember. I think you loved me then. I am grateful for the opportunities you gave me and tried to give me to, but in truth what I needed from you was nurture. I’ve spent my whole life trying to understand you. Understand where you came from and how it hardened you into who you are. You barely spoke to me about your upbringing but even from the smallest details you gave it was obvious your experiences are things I could never even fathom. I’m not blind, I see how strong you’ve had to be and I see how traumatic it was at the bare minimum. So I’ve always tried to give you as much grace as I could. Consider as many factors as I can. Like you being a single mother, all the financial hardships you’ve had, how your mental health suffered in so many moments and you had to be strong and deal with it alone because your kids needed you. How your family refused to accept your kids because they were adopted and how you had to fight for them. And then all the accomplishments you have despite how much you’ve struggled. When I look at things that way I can appreciate your strength and practice empathy for all the times you suffered in silence. And even with all that being true it doesn’t excuse how much damage you’ve caused, and I’m not even speaking about just me at this point. I’m talking about everyone who’s been under your care. Your actions have consequences and some of them are not reversible. I never once expected you to be perfect. I just wanted you to own up to your faults. I wanted you to admit to mistakes you’ve made and say sorry. No one has ever been above that. I wanted you to admit that your anger was a serious problem and caused serious damage physically, mentally, and emotionally. I wanted you to realize the anger I carried was direct result of the anger you carried and showed me. I wanted you to take time to reflect on your actions and see how you could have been better and then implement those changes. I think you’ve always had good intentions but it doesn’t change the harm that’s been caused. I love you mom and I always have and despite everything I still do, but I’ve learned to love myself now. And because I love myself I refuse to expose myself to someone who harms me. It seems like the only way I managed to be in your life or receive love from you was when I left all of my own self respect at the door and allowed you to treat not just me, but the people I cared about, any way you pleased. If I ever stood up for myself or the people close to my heart you’d punish me and them. I want you to know I use to have so much fear in my heart of you. Genuine fear. But before I had that fear I loved you genuinely. You scared me to my core and broke me down. A child shouldn’t be terrified of their mother. Nothing about that is okay. I have a hard time believing you ever actually wanted me around at all. I questioned if you genuinely loved me most of my life. It was never a guarantee. I was never sure of it and felt that the love you offered was conditional and forced. I’m not scared of you anymore and I never will be again. That’s why I can write this now and tell you the truth. Just like I haven’t reached out for 3 years you haven’t either. We are both adults now. You have full control over whether you chose to speak to me or not. Just like always your number has never been blocked and I’m open to a conversation with you. I’m just not willing to be spoken down to, yelled at, or abused. The dynamic we had in the past no longer exists. If you’d like to build something healthy and healing the door is open.

I’m sharing my journey because I believe it’s not only healing to me, but to others who can relate. To anyone experiencing something similar, know that you are loved, even if you don’t quite love yourself just yet. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel, and you are never truly alone.

Coming soon

Olivia — Fri, 07 Feb 2025 05:16:29 GMT

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