Do you love your narcissistic parent?

I sort of HALF *** love my narcissistic mother! She's funny, witty, sarcastic and smart. But she's terribly hurtful, egotistical and now has moved on to hurting my grown daughters. They do not feel welcome in her home. I don't either and I've lived there for the last 3 months.

Here's to getting the hell out of there ASAP..

I suppose, as I've said, that I love her. But, certainly there is no like, no fun cause it's always at someone's expense, and no respect. Thank you, it feels good to get it out on a day like today.

Yes, I love my parents soon much; however I have to have clear boundaries and make sure I'm not trying to constantly work for their acceptance

I’m pretty sure both my mom and dad are narcicissists. I cut off all contact with my dad about 3 years ago. It all of a sudden was completely clear to me how he completely devalued me. My feelings never mattered. My love for him had gone when I was just a child, so in cutting off contact, I barely felt anything, but sadness for understanding even more, what a terrible impact he had on my life.

My mother, on the other hand, I do love. While so much about her has caused me a lot of confusion, and it’s very easy for a conversation to become convoluted, she taught me my manners, morals, kindness, an appreciation and love for animals - and these things are extremely important to me. I’ve finally come to understand that her need for others to love and admire her, makes her unable to tolerate anything that could possibly be construed as a criticism, because that would mean to her that she is unloveable. I’ve been depressed about it - it doesn’t seem fair that I have to make my mom think she’s perfect, no matter what hurtful thing she’s just said...I have to bottle up my feelings. I don’t live close to her, so phone calls on the weekends are easy - visits can get crazy. I do love her, though.

I believe both my parents are narcissists, and in turn, I am too. My dad was never in the picture, but the instances where he spent time with me, it was always for a selfish agenda. He often took me out to a them park when he would date a new woman (to demonstrate he did "try" as an alleged father) or when his parents visited him. To him, I was ultimately an extension of my mom, and it was clear to me he objectified me as a symbol of a costly mistake. Although he didn't and doesn't value me as a person, I can at least appreciate that he didn't invest detriment toward me either, unlike my mom. My mom is in my opinion, a naive woman whom views herself as a "hidden gem," whom women are in her eyes evidently threatened by and whom said women fail to match in their prime in comparison to her own. So, despite a young woman in her late twenties being considered to be beautiful by general consensus walks by and is complimented by men and admired by women alike, my mom would turn to me and utter under her breath "If they think this one is a catch, they would be drooling their shirts soaking wet if they had a gander at me at her age, hee hee hee." Her need to always look for any convoluted way her beauty in some way out-ranks the present renown beautiful lasses nowadays is relentless. Her devotion to embodying Aphrodite often resulted in my mom generally neglecting me as much as she felt she could get away with. She often spent hours in the bathroom blow drying her hair, 'putting on her face,' trying out outfit after outfit, all the while blasting music in the background. She typically only held onto a boyfriend for two years at most, but went out with whomever she happened to be with at least once a week and didn't stay single any longer than a month. As a child, I usually had my clothes chosen by my mom (on clearance) once a year (around August, just before school would start,) and by May, much of my clothes looked like weathered rags and became notably ratty from overuse and wash cycles. Christmas was the one time I got to choose a game console (usually one that had already been out for a year or two) and a game. As for food, I was a latchkey kid and my mom worked during the hours school let out, so much of what I would eat for lunch and dinner was a frozen microwavable "meal" or leftovers from what she'd personally prepare on weekends (usually Monday's more decent entree.) At church, my mom would act like we were as close as could be, given that I was an only child. Funny enough, my father never had anymore children either he had me and he and my mom divorced. Looking back, all my interactions with my parents were purely superficial. My mom also did a number on me when she began noticing my mannerisms and that it was likely I was a homosexual boy. She began to shame me with religion. Being that we were Pentecostal, fears of demonic possession and the eternal flames of hell were ingrained in me by a nap that feared how the embarrassment of a homosexual son would incriminate her, especially since it would all be credited to her with my father not having been in my household and she not holding on to a boyfriend long enough for me to have an actual father figure in my life. I suffered a lot of night terrors as a child and would awake to be trapped in my own body by sleep paralysis and frightened by the hallucinations that came with it before I could finally snap out of my torment. My relationship with my mom is bitter sweet at best, and one of consummate denial of responsibility on her part. She always tries to find s way for me to feel bad for her as opposed for her to accept her negligence and attempt to cooperate with me in us building a more authentic relationship. I guess I can't really say I genuinely love my mom, it would be more accurate to say I cathect her and some part of me yearns to hope that she can be the mother she postured herself as being when we were around other people.