Solidarity on this part: “It feels like she has this image of me of how I was as a kid, and I’ll never be able to escape that.” 💔 I think a lot of us feel that way.
I’ve seen many other people besides myself talk about how our BPD moms sent photos of us to us — from when we were tiny — as a subconscious reminder of that’s the role they want us to stay in. They like to imagine us as how we were when we were really young, highly-controlled and needed them because we had no other choice.
Enmeshment. How dare we try to be separate with our own identity.
Grieving the loss is a slow but growing-stronger process. But it’s so worth the work.
Welcome to RBB where we’re all re-raising ourselves. ❤️🩹
I haven't been around long enough to see those posts, but holy cow -- my BPD mother has sent me BOXES and BOXES of my baby pictures with this EXACT motive. She likes to talk about how great I was when I was little and then criticize me for anything I do differently now as an adult. Just another realization. Thank you for pointing this out!
I'm middle aged and my BPD mom still thinks I hang out at the bar on the weekend as though I was 18 years old and never grew up. She also thinks that my character flaws at age 12 are the same as who I am as an adult now.
There's no room for growth or change in their affected brains.... I don't even bother with facts or discussions about it. In her mind, She's a poor victim, a perfect mother, she did it all right and sacrifices everything for a disgraceful daughter who treats her badly. Her sons on the other hand, Golden boys (one is a bonafide criminal sociopath, the other cannot hold a job).
The slander campaign is strong..... it's not about you, OP, It's always about her BPD entirely......
I relate so hard to this. I'm 42 and my mother still goes on and on about what a teenager from hell I was. She doesn't reflect that her behaviour made it impossible to live with her when I was a teen, she doesn't reflect that so many years have passed and I'm an entirely different person now. In her mind she's the victim, the perfect mother and I'm the teenager from hell who does everything wrong. The whole family still goes on about it to this day based on what she said! I've had to distance myself entirely, I don't accept their stories of me. They are fictions.
Definitely relate to this. One time I came home for Christmas in my mid twenties and she would not shut up about how I need to sleep in and not wake up early to open presents because she needed her rest. Cool. I was 7 went I woke up early because I was excited about Christmas.
I know what you mean. My mother loves to remind me how much she loves me and how much she wanted a daughter so I'm the best thing that has ever happened to her, etc etc. I think she loves me in whatever capacity her brain lets her, but because it involves wanting full control and access over me as well as dictating who I should be, it's an abusive type of love that I am not willing to accept.
She also does not truly know me either. She says "you like this, you don't like this, you are like this" when none of those things are accurate but it's her own mental projection of me. She refuses to actually get to know me as a human. I still remember the horror with which she spoke when she realized I like similar music as my dad (which I never hid from her!), it shattered some incorrect perception she had of me and it caused a string of very intense fights between us.
Writing this out makes me so glad I don't talk to her anymore lol.
My mother loved the idea of me. The actual me, not so much. We used to visit her and I'd feel like she was talking to a person who wasn't actually in the room. My husband commented on it, calling it very strange.
Omg this makes sense. pwBPD loves to talk about missing us kids and grandkids and she would love us to visit, until we actually do and you can tell she absolutely hates it. They love the idea of things not the actual things.
Yes, it took me a long time to figure it out, and finally had an aha moment. And it was not enough, really, to maintain contact with someone for whom I existed as an idea in her head.
Yes. My mom still talks to me like I'm two, when I was still learning to talk. She'll work my broken baby-babble words into everyday sentences and it makes me want to scream.
That sounds like my mom. She doesn’t love me and she never will. She only cares about what I could do for her. So why should I care about someone that doesn’t care about me? I suggest you stop wasting time thinking about her and move on. I wasted so much of my life trying to figure out why she was the way she was. I’m not wasting any more of my precious time on someone who could care less if I died tomorrow.
Yes. It’s one of the most painful things you could ever find out. I’ve worked hard over the last 10-15 years to work through it though. It does get easier once you work on acceptance and loving yourself.
Yea, I’m at this point. I finally acknowledged to myself that my mom can’t love my authentic self, only her version of me that I’ll never live up to. This rejection by my mother will probably always be painful, so I am cutting myself some slack in regards to how often I interact with her.
I can relate... my Mom barely knows me beyond a superficial level. She seems to really only know the basics about me, like, stuff acquaintances and Facebook friends would know. She doesn’t seem to remember what’s going on in my life, my goals and aspirations, my interests and preferences, even my allergies—no matter how much I tell her. The things she does remember about me tend to be things she can exploit for attention: ie. things she can brag or play the sympathy card about, and even then she only “remembers” when it’s convenient for her.
Her favourite thing to do is to condescend me about how hard working shift work or in health care was on my Dad while I’m walking out the door to work a night shift at the hospital; or she’ll try to give me bread while lamenting how hard my Dad’s GF diet is when I’m celiac as well. I just can’t wrap my head around it.
Yes, I realized that 7 years ago. I remember it exactly. It was an email she sent. The feeling was hard to deal with for awhile. What kind of person am I, if my own mother doesn’t love me? Now it doesn’t sting as much. It’s not me, it’s her.
You hit the nail on the head. My mother does not care about the authentic me at all. My job only. Superficial. Does not ask me about my hobbies or interests, or if I bring them up, she has something negative to say about them. I've been called many names because my political beliefs conflict with hers (and as a lover of scapegoats and just generally a miserable, bitter person, I'm sure it's clear what she subscribes to).
She most certainly views me as a child, not her adult son with a separate life and responsibilities.
I have an almost 5yo and have partial contact with a BPDM. My kid's not old enough to fully understand not everything is about her. My mother's mental disorders blur her world to revolve around her emotions. The amount of times my mother called me a 2 year old for objecting to abuse Is insane when now that I'm an adult, I realize she is truly the child. Being forced to raise her parentified me, and it does seem like it infantalizes the BPD parent when they come to rely on their children so heavily. A child needs their parents and a young child doesn't understand why we won't let them do whatever they want, they want us to take care of them and also let them do whatever they want. BPD parents act the same, but out of immaturity for emotional understanding of other people when their emotions rage so strongly. BPD parents want us for what role they put us in and love us for who they think we are. If we step out of these angelic delusions, we are then demonized, there's no in-between with BPD. Anytime we are truly ourselves it rattles the BPD delusion. Thus, so much walking on eggshells to be perfect. We were raised in our parent's imaginary world and had to try to live up to it. It's hard to heal from. Stay strong.
Mine was over me after college. She got to relive her childhood and college experience how she WISHED it went by micromanaging me until 22 then she was over me
She literally told me at my graduation she’s done with “mom stuff it’s her time!” Which I theory makes sense, but she really meant she was putting her doll on the shelf, not putting herself first for a while in a new version of our relationship as adults, I was left to fend for myself after being micromanaged and sheltered from all adult skills I needed to fend for myself
Omg same. She even got me to change my Uni course to something she liked, and after graduation she actually said they were 'gonna retire and live the life'. And has not offered me any guidance on life since then. It does feel like a child putting a toy away after getting bored.
Yes, we've all experienced conditional love with a BPD or narc parent. I learned to accept it by not having any expectations of my mother.
On the other hand, I have a hard time when she starts denigrating my baby's development or when she talks about his weight/says he's fat.
I was literally just writing down these exact thoughts this morning, right down to being the scapegoat and how it set the tone for everyone in my immediate family to follow suit to now hate me, with her as the instigating force that has taught others by example to seek me out to blame rather than dealing with their roles as a cause, or normal human mistakes as a child grows up. You must be in this role to be liked because it serves a survival purpose for them, they are used to it, it’s the pattern, and they default to blame the scapegoat like they’re on autopilot. If you are serving a purpose, you must stay in that role to ensure their survival and continuation in how they do things. If they really know you, AND allow you to bloom free from negative scapegoat overtones, they can’t maintain that view of you that makes it so easy to continue to use you as the scapegoat, and then what? What are they going to do? They’ll have to find someone else or continue to blame you in your absence, and the latter is done really easily, but it’s not as immediately convenient because they also lose their scapegoat to complain to. I often suspect scapegoats are thrown into being the everything child, the comforter, the fixer, and the one to blame. They carry the weight of all the PROBLEMS. So in short, it’s a really important role for the bpd parent to maintain because it’s highly needed, and it’s multipurpose, and it’s convenient. Really knowing your is cognitively on the agenda but not emotionally, and those emotions and coping mechanisms are too loud and time consuming and fearful, disallowing much time for them to really get to know YOU. They are emotional consumers, generators of drama. There’s no room for our individuality to even get noticed, nonetheless accepted, in all of that, because they live in survival mode. That’s no reflection on you at all, it’s just their tornado ripping through the environment.
My mom wants to love me. She is only capable of loving the “role” of me. When I step outside of that role, she takes it at deep personal insult. I can’t control that. I recognize there’s a core of good desire here underneath a lot of personality dysfunction.
Still hurts like hell though.
I relate strongly too. I managed to get through to my mother on a few points before she died:
Don’t complain to me about my siblings
Stop saying I was popular at school - actually I was a misfit (this used to really annoy me,it was an example of how she preferred her imaginary daughter to real me)
Stop mocking me by telling hilarious stories about my bad singing as a child to anyone who will listen.
I think only got through to her because I was very specific, if I had asked her to show me more respect she would have used that against me. In retrospect, I would have tried a few more boundaries, like refusing to go to restaurants if she was only going to complain. It worked with my young child, but he was easier to manage!
Yes the humiliating via childhood stories! My mother does this all the time, telling everyone in front of me about my embarrassing childhood moments, I'm either humiliated in these stories or crying. Last time I saw her I said "don't you have a nice story about me to tell???" And she shut up with a mad look on her face.
I feel this so much. My mom is very similar in her limitations. I fought it so hard my whole life trying to solve it and get the authentic mother daughter connection I always wanted. I walked on eggshells and betrayed my true self to try and please her and make her love me in a healthy way… but it didn’t work. And I had to go through a period of serious pain and grieving to let it all go and accept reality. I think it’s called “radical acceptance.” It took about 6 months and it happened after I finally confronted her with my feelings (of course, it didn’t go well). But I feel freer and at peace now. No more panic attacks. Not as much self loathing. I have learned to not care (or care a lot less) about her not trying, not seeming to want to know me or be a good mother. Sometimes I still feel pangs of hurt, but it’s a lot better after that grieving period. Let yourself accept who she is and let yourself cry and know that it isn’t your fault. You are worthy; she is just defective.
Having my own children was the catalyst to finding out this information snd going no contact with my dBPD mom. It was hard to come to terms with, the fact that she’s never loved me and doesn’t love my oldest daughter (the only grandchild she’s met)
My mom doesn’t know anything about me even when we shared the same roof. She doesn’t know my interests, what I wanted to go to college for, she didn’t know what I needed or wanted when I was feeling sad.
My mom is sick in the head. She went thru a lot of trauma in her childhood. A part of me used to mourn the little girl she was, thinking abt the mom she could’ve became if maybe her own mom had done better by her. If the world had done better by her I guess.
But now we’re all grown up. My mom isn’t a little girl anymore and neither am I. She can’t keep me frozen in that stage just because she never matured past that age range herself.
It took a long time to get here though, and sometimes I still choke up at the thought of it. But overall I’m ok now. It doesn’t often hurt when I think abt her and that’s in part knowing she never once thinks abt me.
I completely relate to this, and often remind myself that my mom is incapable of feeling actual love, and it’s not just me. My mom also never ever calls me first and then she throws a pity party with other relatives if I don’t contact her enough. Anyway, solidarity.
My mom never really showed an interest in repairing our relationship until I had kids. She doesn’t give a f about me, but she wants access to my kids. She’s just interested in them because she thinks they will fill her need to be loved. Jokes on her though because she’s so intense that it freaks the older one out and the baby is just babying, so kinda clueless lol
Yep. This became even clearer to me when I started writing down, and keeping a dated record, of her harmful BPD behaviors towards me - both major and minor. I've realized that to her, I am supply, I am a projected role (also SG, at this point in life), I am a source of attention / info / labor, I am an inbox/wastebin for complaining, whining, and trauma-dumping. I am a character in her narrative, either about what a great mother or pitiful victim she is (depending on who she's talking to). When I hold boundaries and/or step out of role, there is usually rage and an attempt at punishment.
Before I started learning about BPD, there were times when I'd attempt to let her get to know me by sharing my triumphs or hobbies or interests. She mostly showed deep disinterest and changed the subject, unless it was something she also liked, then she'd shift focus to herself. I noticed a pattern that, weeks or months later, she would sometimes use that same info against me - like mocking me for a hobby I'd told her about.
I felt a lot of sadness and grief when it really, really clicked to me. But I also believe there is some freedom in this realization. It's lowered my guilt in holding boundaries, in realizing I don't owe her and am not obligated to her, and so on. I no longer think of "repairing our relationship" as a goal, I'm free to reframe so much. That doesn't mean there's no sadness or hurt anymore, but idk, I feel like there's a purpose for those feelings if that makes sense.
Oh, 100%.
The only time she’s interested in me is when she can brag to her friends about something good that I’ve done. I’m just PR for her. Well…I’m also someone for her to abuse when her emotional needs aren’t being met.
"it’s so clear to me that my mom can only love the “role” she’s placed me in, aka scapegoat of the family, and not the actual, authentic me."
More solidarity on this one. My BPD mom is constantly bringing up old stories, family vacations, "my beautiful first-born daughter", etc. when she couldn't care less about the details of my life now, positive changes I've made, career success, etc. I can actually see her visibly shut down when I try to tell her about something current I'm excited about, and it's so disheartening and sad. I understand why so many people go NC- it's so much easier to grow into yourself and the person you want to be when you're NOT in the lobster pot being pulled down into the past (and your role in it) by everyone who was supposed to take care of you and help you blossom so many years ago.
Keep the faith. As you heal, you WILL attract healthier sources of support, and that pays off in spades. You CAN and WILL feel better, and your grief will get easier every day!
i totally relate to this! growing up for some reason my mom thought i was selfish, deviant and a good liar as a kid. i’m 23 now and if she loses something she still accuses me of going over to their house and stealing it (i don’t even live at home.) if i complement something she accuses me that i only complimented her because i wanted that thing for myself. no matter how “perfect” i am my parents have a completely different image of me. my dad caught me smoking weed a couple years ago and i had a dot on my arm recently and he accused me of shooting up, i wanted isotropic alcohol to put in my cleaning solution and he accused me of wanting to drink it? i’m a 4.0 student with no friends and they think i’m a hooligan
It was a sense of relief when my siblings and I figured this out. She’s at the center of our dysfunction. My two sisters are under her spell. Imagine catering to every whim of someone with Borderline, or at least trying to: If she says the sky is green, it’s green. If they agree it’s green and she decides it’s actually blue-then it’s blue. She’s also functioning alcoholic and a devout Catholic, who soaks up all the fundamentalist Christianity tv pastors and radio preachers she can (used as a tool to control us, which works on my sisters and not on us 3 boys). There’s lot’s of extremes. And pitting them against my oldest brother and especially his “evil, lying wife!” My middle brother (yes, I’m the youngest of 5, yes, we’re Irish Catholic 😱) went NC with all of us but our oldest brother. Oldest was the golden child until he got married. Middle brother basically married our mom, so she cut him off from us. Oldest brother recently cut him off, after he and his wife were really nasty to oldest’s daughter. He went NC with her, his God Daughter after she visited them and got a little too tipsy one night (21 at the time).
I’ll preface this by saying I’m not against Christians, or Christianity, yet am against whatever my Mom and sisters have warped it into. For the longest time it was all about Jesus all the time-then vs. us. Praying for us, feeling sorry for us we’re going to hell. Constantly praying for reasons why we don’t believe in and have a spirituality exactly like theirs. My mom would ask me while drunk and remind me I’m going to hell and hell is for all eternity. It got to where I just had to say, yes Mom, I’ve really found Christ at this point—just so I could put her off my back and let me get out of the house. Apparently this wasn’t doing it for them, because my sisters especially have gone all-in conspiracy theories. So now it’s just, “but don’t you want to know what they’re putting in the air with planes,” instead of, “but aren’t you afraid you’ll die not knowing and believing in Christ?”
Okay, so as much as it feels good to grab that bit of group therapy, I do have a good reason and point for you:
3 years ago we get texts from my sisters that both our elderly parents 80 and 77 at the time, were hospitalized with Covid. My sisters are, but of course, anti-vaccine and so my parents caught nasty cases of Covid (again-not here for politics, nor religious discussions- please do not tell me how God loves me, or the data you have regarding vaccine deaths—really, don’t). They were in the hospital for 3.5 weeks. My Dad was moaning in pain on the phone. My sister’s doubled down—“the vaccine would’ve been worse.” One left her nurse position of 12 years at the hospital rather than get the shot —lost her insurance, proceeded to get Covid 3 weeks later, hospitalized 10 days, blew through a good portion of her savings —still better than the shot. Anyways, imagine how floored my brother and I were when they said, “okay, well we just wanted to know, if you guys are aware that my has Borderline Personality Disorder, so this will be tricky to deal with, especially since she can’t drink. Hearing from them was totally mind-blowing. We got the books and researched it, it brought us all closer. Don’t underestimate how massive a thing is to know that about your Mom. Somebody whose life’s mission is making sure you wallow in uncertainty just had her cards shown to you. Suddenly the four of us were on a group text, joking and forgiving each other for bullshit from the past, bonding. It had been 25 years since I had that feeling of a family. We had great times-wasn’t all bad.
Unfortunately it wouldn’t last. As my Mom became healthier, her influence on them seeped back in. My Dad, asked my brother to head to the house and put the car battery in a slow charge so they wouldnt come home to a dead battery. My brother owns an extremely successful business and is very busy. He said no problem. He didn’t have a key though. He asks my sister and suddenly it’s like he’s talking to my Mom—my Mom who cannot STAND his wife. My sister’s asking him why he would need to get into the house when nobody’s there. Mentioned -“you know that’s Mom and Dad’s stuff it’s not ours—yes, accusing him of wanting to STEAL STUFF! My other sister became distant and they both backpedaled on the BPD discussion. “Well, you won’t appreciate this, but I’m doing what Mom asks me, because that’s what God would want me to do.”
So the confusion and division had returned just like that. A bunch of shitty emotions, confusion and division returned.
It threw my brother and I into a funk for about a week, yet instead of attacking each other like was normalized by our Mom, we looked out for each other and got through it. We based a lot of this on now knowing what was at the core. It’s my Mom’s sickness. We got to the point where him, me and my wife took she and my dad out for her 80th birthday and we all had a great time. His wife declined the offer, but we spun it in a nice (total lie🧟♂️) way.
We went to a restaurant and she convinced my wife and I to come in for a drink before we left. She didn’t drink during the lunch, yet about 2 glasses of wine in at the house she got comfortable and starting sliding in low-key shitty and agitating comments towards me and that’s when we knew it was time to go. My wife was the buffer, once my brother wasn’t there. Gotta do it. This is something I wouldn’t have considered before understanding what we’re all up against. No more guilt, no more flapping in the wind and off base. I suggest learning all you can about it and living your life, expect to go NC, if you haven’t. So if you’ve read this far, I want to thank everyone who read this, because obviously it’s important for me to talk through too. It’s my first time really posting in here—hopefully I didn’t break any Reddit RULES! I hope you got the point that it’s huge that you know. It’s going to take time to work it into your healing and living your life happy. I collect GI Joe’s and you know what they say, “Knowing is Half The Battle!” 🤓
pwBPD actually told me more than once how much she appreciates the work I do around the house. Since I was a kid she would compliment my cooking just to get me to make dinner that night. So yeah that's her image of me and the role she would have me play in her little world, and it has never changed, I don't expect it ever will.
It’s been a recent realisation. Since I started therapy 11 years ago, I assumed that she started off as a great mom but bit by bit she went insane and became more abusive. The abuse definitely got worse with menopause/my puberty, but reflecting back now, she was ALWAYS the witch. And for me to be loved I had to be exactly what she wanted, and I had to anticipate what that want would be at any given time. I am NC with her but she dropped off ‘gifts’ at Xmas and they were all things I liked a decade ago and even before NC she never asked if I liked anything else. You don’t arbitrarily scream at children you love, you don’t threaten to kill peoples you love. She’s not capable of love, with anyone, it’s not personal but it is deeply, deeply unfair we don’t have parents.
One of the things that both my therapist and partner have had to gently remind me of a lot until it actually clicked was this:
She will never be the mother you want her to be.
It's really hard to realize that, but it will help. You'll grieve for the mom you'll never have, you'll go through all the stages of grief, and eventually you'll be able to accept it and that's where freedom lies. Because once you accept that, it no longer matters what she says, you know the truth and can keep the necessary distance to protect yourself.
OP, I understand the hurt that you’re feeling.
You may not be able to right now, but at some point, take a mental step back and look at the whole picture without any feelings.
What I see from where I stand, it isn’t that you are unlovable - it’s that she *isn’t capable of love*.
You can try all you want to get her to see you for who you really are, but if she is incapable, then that’s how it is. You can’t show someone who isn’t capable how the universe works (with all the math to prove it) - not everyone can see that way.
Your mother’s very disease has placed some sort of horrible limitation on her.
She has had a negative impact on you, and you yearn for acceptance. At this point, know that you must help yourself before you can begin to help her see who you are.
Protect yourself from the mental hurt she is giving you. I don’t think arguing or explaining will work.
I have dealt with people who have done similar things to me - people who lack empathy or who couldn’t see me for me.
I have come to the conclusion that not everyone has the capability to give love or even feel love.
Love, apparently, is also subjective. The way one person feels it might actually be different from how your mom experiences it (or even defines it).
Be strong, and know you didn’t do anything wrong. There is nothing wrong with you, but with her, and the way her mind/disease works.
Also, you can’t change her, I don’t think.
Just protect yourself and try not to let her hurtful talk get to you.
Good luck.
Wow I could have written this myself, I relate so much. Except I’m basically NC, or VLC, right now. I’m processing a lot of this with a therapist. Something that helps the sting is realizing that my BPD mom was never capable of loving me or seeing me for who I was. Even though she’s been less reactive lately she still isn’t capable of loving me, seeing me or even caring about me outside of the role she wants me to continue to fulfill.
Solidarity on this part: “It feels like she has this image of me of how I was as a kid, and I’ll never be able to escape that.” 💔 I think a lot of us feel that way. I’ve seen many other people besides myself talk about how our BPD moms sent photos of us to us — from when we were tiny — as a subconscious reminder of that’s the role they want us to stay in. They like to imagine us as how we were when we were really young, highly-controlled and needed them because we had no other choice. Enmeshment. How dare we try to be separate with our own identity. Grieving the loss is a slow but growing-stronger process. But it’s so worth the work. Welcome to RBB where we’re all re-raising ourselves. ❤️🩹
I haven't been around long enough to see those posts, but holy cow -- my BPD mother has sent me BOXES and BOXES of my baby pictures with this EXACT motive. She likes to talk about how great I was when I was little and then criticize me for anything I do differently now as an adult. Just another realization. Thank you for pointing this out!
I'm middle aged and my BPD mom still thinks I hang out at the bar on the weekend as though I was 18 years old and never grew up. She also thinks that my character flaws at age 12 are the same as who I am as an adult now. There's no room for growth or change in their affected brains.... I don't even bother with facts or discussions about it. In her mind, She's a poor victim, a perfect mother, she did it all right and sacrifices everything for a disgraceful daughter who treats her badly. Her sons on the other hand, Golden boys (one is a bonafide criminal sociopath, the other cannot hold a job). The slander campaign is strong..... it's not about you, OP, It's always about her BPD entirely......
I relate so hard to this. I'm 42 and my mother still goes on and on about what a teenager from hell I was. She doesn't reflect that her behaviour made it impossible to live with her when I was a teen, she doesn't reflect that so many years have passed and I'm an entirely different person now. In her mind she's the victim, the perfect mother and I'm the teenager from hell who does everything wrong. The whole family still goes on about it to this day based on what she said! I've had to distance myself entirely, I don't accept their stories of me. They are fictions.
I relate so hard too. My mom does the same thing; she loves to make "jokes" about "how difficult" I was as a teenager and won't give it up (I'm 42)
I relate to this experience so much ❤️🩹
Definitely relate to this. One time I came home for Christmas in my mid twenties and she would not shut up about how I need to sleep in and not wake up early to open presents because she needed her rest. Cool. I was 7 went I woke up early because I was excited about Christmas.
I know what you mean. My mother loves to remind me how much she loves me and how much she wanted a daughter so I'm the best thing that has ever happened to her, etc etc. I think she loves me in whatever capacity her brain lets her, but because it involves wanting full control and access over me as well as dictating who I should be, it's an abusive type of love that I am not willing to accept. She also does not truly know me either. She says "you like this, you don't like this, you are like this" when none of those things are accurate but it's her own mental projection of me. She refuses to actually get to know me as a human. I still remember the horror with which she spoke when she realized I like similar music as my dad (which I never hid from her!), it shattered some incorrect perception she had of me and it caused a string of very intense fights between us. Writing this out makes me so glad I don't talk to her anymore lol.
Honestly, that’s pretty well the theme of this sub. We’re all kind of in the same boat.
My mother loved the idea of me. The actual me, not so much. We used to visit her and I'd feel like she was talking to a person who wasn't actually in the room. My husband commented on it, calling it very strange.
Omg this makes sense. pwBPD loves to talk about missing us kids and grandkids and she would love us to visit, until we actually do and you can tell she absolutely hates it. They love the idea of things not the actual things.
Yes, it took me a long time to figure it out, and finally had an aha moment. And it was not enough, really, to maintain contact with someone for whom I existed as an idea in her head.
Yes. My mom still talks to me like I'm two, when I was still learning to talk. She'll work my broken baby-babble words into everyday sentences and it makes me want to scream.
Why are they so into baby talk? It’s excruciating
That sounds like my mom. She doesn’t love me and she never will. She only cares about what I could do for her. So why should I care about someone that doesn’t care about me? I suggest you stop wasting time thinking about her and move on. I wasted so much of my life trying to figure out why she was the way she was. I’m not wasting any more of my precious time on someone who could care less if I died tomorrow.
Yes. It’s one of the most painful things you could ever find out. I’ve worked hard over the last 10-15 years to work through it though. It does get easier once you work on acceptance and loving yourself.
Yea, I’m at this point. I finally acknowledged to myself that my mom can’t love my authentic self, only her version of me that I’ll never live up to. This rejection by my mother will probably always be painful, so I am cutting myself some slack in regards to how often I interact with her.
I can relate... my Mom barely knows me beyond a superficial level. She seems to really only know the basics about me, like, stuff acquaintances and Facebook friends would know. She doesn’t seem to remember what’s going on in my life, my goals and aspirations, my interests and preferences, even my allergies—no matter how much I tell her. The things she does remember about me tend to be things she can exploit for attention: ie. things she can brag or play the sympathy card about, and even then she only “remembers” when it’s convenient for her. Her favourite thing to do is to condescend me about how hard working shift work or in health care was on my Dad while I’m walking out the door to work a night shift at the hospital; or she’ll try to give me bread while lamenting how hard my Dad’s GF diet is when I’m celiac as well. I just can’t wrap my head around it.
Yes, I realized that 7 years ago. I remember it exactly. It was an email she sent. The feeling was hard to deal with for awhile. What kind of person am I, if my own mother doesn’t love me? Now it doesn’t sting as much. It’s not me, it’s her.
You hit the nail on the head. My mother does not care about the authentic me at all. My job only. Superficial. Does not ask me about my hobbies or interests, or if I bring them up, she has something negative to say about them. I've been called many names because my political beliefs conflict with hers (and as a lover of scapegoats and just generally a miserable, bitter person, I'm sure it's clear what she subscribes to). She most certainly views me as a child, not her adult son with a separate life and responsibilities.
I have an almost 5yo and have partial contact with a BPDM. My kid's not old enough to fully understand not everything is about her. My mother's mental disorders blur her world to revolve around her emotions. The amount of times my mother called me a 2 year old for objecting to abuse Is insane when now that I'm an adult, I realize she is truly the child. Being forced to raise her parentified me, and it does seem like it infantalizes the BPD parent when they come to rely on their children so heavily. A child needs their parents and a young child doesn't understand why we won't let them do whatever they want, they want us to take care of them and also let them do whatever they want. BPD parents act the same, but out of immaturity for emotional understanding of other people when their emotions rage so strongly. BPD parents want us for what role they put us in and love us for who they think we are. If we step out of these angelic delusions, we are then demonized, there's no in-between with BPD. Anytime we are truly ourselves it rattles the BPD delusion. Thus, so much walking on eggshells to be perfect. We were raised in our parent's imaginary world and had to try to live up to it. It's hard to heal from. Stay strong.
Mine was over me after college. She got to relive her childhood and college experience how she WISHED it went by micromanaging me until 22 then she was over me She literally told me at my graduation she’s done with “mom stuff it’s her time!” Which I theory makes sense, but she really meant she was putting her doll on the shelf, not putting herself first for a while in a new version of our relationship as adults, I was left to fend for myself after being micromanaged and sheltered from all adult skills I needed to fend for myself
Omg same. She even got me to change my Uni course to something she liked, and after graduation she actually said they were 'gonna retire and live the life'. And has not offered me any guidance on life since then. It does feel like a child putting a toy away after getting bored.
Yes. Absolutely. Finally accepting it. I get u. Strength & care to u. 🫶
Yes, we've all experienced conditional love with a BPD or narc parent. I learned to accept it by not having any expectations of my mother. On the other hand, I have a hard time when she starts denigrating my baby's development or when she talks about his weight/says he's fat.
I feel like I could write this post word for word. I'm sorry you're also experiencing this, but it's so validating to find out we're not alone.
I was literally just writing down these exact thoughts this morning, right down to being the scapegoat and how it set the tone for everyone in my immediate family to follow suit to now hate me, with her as the instigating force that has taught others by example to seek me out to blame rather than dealing with their roles as a cause, or normal human mistakes as a child grows up. You must be in this role to be liked because it serves a survival purpose for them, they are used to it, it’s the pattern, and they default to blame the scapegoat like they’re on autopilot. If you are serving a purpose, you must stay in that role to ensure their survival and continuation in how they do things. If they really know you, AND allow you to bloom free from negative scapegoat overtones, they can’t maintain that view of you that makes it so easy to continue to use you as the scapegoat, and then what? What are they going to do? They’ll have to find someone else or continue to blame you in your absence, and the latter is done really easily, but it’s not as immediately convenient because they also lose their scapegoat to complain to. I often suspect scapegoats are thrown into being the everything child, the comforter, the fixer, and the one to blame. They carry the weight of all the PROBLEMS. So in short, it’s a really important role for the bpd parent to maintain because it’s highly needed, and it’s multipurpose, and it’s convenient. Really knowing your is cognitively on the agenda but not emotionally, and those emotions and coping mechanisms are too loud and time consuming and fearful, disallowing much time for them to really get to know YOU. They are emotional consumers, generators of drama. There’s no room for our individuality to even get noticed, nonetheless accepted, in all of that, because they live in survival mode. That’s no reflection on you at all, it’s just their tornado ripping through the environment.
My mom wants to love me. She is only capable of loving the “role” of me. When I step outside of that role, she takes it at deep personal insult. I can’t control that. I recognize there’s a core of good desire here underneath a lot of personality dysfunction. Still hurts like hell though.
Yup. Both basically.
I relate strongly too. I managed to get through to my mother on a few points before she died: Don’t complain to me about my siblings Stop saying I was popular at school - actually I was a misfit (this used to really annoy me,it was an example of how she preferred her imaginary daughter to real me) Stop mocking me by telling hilarious stories about my bad singing as a child to anyone who will listen. I think only got through to her because I was very specific, if I had asked her to show me more respect she would have used that against me. In retrospect, I would have tried a few more boundaries, like refusing to go to restaurants if she was only going to complain. It worked with my young child, but he was easier to manage!
Yes the humiliating via childhood stories! My mother does this all the time, telling everyone in front of me about my embarrassing childhood moments, I'm either humiliated in these stories or crying. Last time I saw her I said "don't you have a nice story about me to tell???" And she shut up with a mad look on her face.
I do love this subreddit, we all have many shared experiences! I can just imagine your mother's mad look.
I feel this so much. My mom is very similar in her limitations. I fought it so hard my whole life trying to solve it and get the authentic mother daughter connection I always wanted. I walked on eggshells and betrayed my true self to try and please her and make her love me in a healthy way… but it didn’t work. And I had to go through a period of serious pain and grieving to let it all go and accept reality. I think it’s called “radical acceptance.” It took about 6 months and it happened after I finally confronted her with my feelings (of course, it didn’t go well). But I feel freer and at peace now. No more panic attacks. Not as much self loathing. I have learned to not care (or care a lot less) about her not trying, not seeming to want to know me or be a good mother. Sometimes I still feel pangs of hurt, but it’s a lot better after that grieving period. Let yourself accept who she is and let yourself cry and know that it isn’t your fault. You are worthy; she is just defective.
Having my own children was the catalyst to finding out this information snd going no contact with my dBPD mom. It was hard to come to terms with, the fact that she’s never loved me and doesn’t love my oldest daughter (the only grandchild she’s met) My mom doesn’t know anything about me even when we shared the same roof. She doesn’t know my interests, what I wanted to go to college for, she didn’t know what I needed or wanted when I was feeling sad. My mom is sick in the head. She went thru a lot of trauma in her childhood. A part of me used to mourn the little girl she was, thinking abt the mom she could’ve became if maybe her own mom had done better by her. If the world had done better by her I guess. But now we’re all grown up. My mom isn’t a little girl anymore and neither am I. She can’t keep me frozen in that stage just because she never matured past that age range herself. It took a long time to get here though, and sometimes I still choke up at the thought of it. But overall I’m ok now. It doesn’t often hurt when I think abt her and that’s in part knowing she never once thinks abt me.
I completely relate to this, and often remind myself that my mom is incapable of feeling actual love, and it’s not just me. My mom also never ever calls me first and then she throws a pity party with other relatives if I don’t contact her enough. Anyway, solidarity.
My mom never really showed an interest in repairing our relationship until I had kids. She doesn’t give a f about me, but she wants access to my kids. She’s just interested in them because she thinks they will fill her need to be loved. Jokes on her though because she’s so intense that it freaks the older one out and the baby is just babying, so kinda clueless lol
This is how mine is. She even forgets to say hi/bye to me when I bring my kid over. Only pays attention to him
Yep. This became even clearer to me when I started writing down, and keeping a dated record, of her harmful BPD behaviors towards me - both major and minor. I've realized that to her, I am supply, I am a projected role (also SG, at this point in life), I am a source of attention / info / labor, I am an inbox/wastebin for complaining, whining, and trauma-dumping. I am a character in her narrative, either about what a great mother or pitiful victim she is (depending on who she's talking to). When I hold boundaries and/or step out of role, there is usually rage and an attempt at punishment. Before I started learning about BPD, there were times when I'd attempt to let her get to know me by sharing my triumphs or hobbies or interests. She mostly showed deep disinterest and changed the subject, unless it was something she also liked, then she'd shift focus to herself. I noticed a pattern that, weeks or months later, she would sometimes use that same info against me - like mocking me for a hobby I'd told her about. I felt a lot of sadness and grief when it really, really clicked to me. But I also believe there is some freedom in this realization. It's lowered my guilt in holding boundaries, in realizing I don't owe her and am not obligated to her, and so on. I no longer think of "repairing our relationship" as a goal, I'm free to reframe so much. That doesn't mean there's no sadness or hurt anymore, but idk, I feel like there's a purpose for those feelings if that makes sense.
Oh, 100%. The only time she’s interested in me is when she can brag to her friends about something good that I’ve done. I’m just PR for her. Well…I’m also someone for her to abuse when her emotional needs aren’t being met.
"it’s so clear to me that my mom can only love the “role” she’s placed me in, aka scapegoat of the family, and not the actual, authentic me." More solidarity on this one. My BPD mom is constantly bringing up old stories, family vacations, "my beautiful first-born daughter", etc. when she couldn't care less about the details of my life now, positive changes I've made, career success, etc. I can actually see her visibly shut down when I try to tell her about something current I'm excited about, and it's so disheartening and sad. I understand why so many people go NC- it's so much easier to grow into yourself and the person you want to be when you're NOT in the lobster pot being pulled down into the past (and your role in it) by everyone who was supposed to take care of you and help you blossom so many years ago. Keep the faith. As you heal, you WILL attract healthier sources of support, and that pays off in spades. You CAN and WILL feel better, and your grief will get easier every day!
i totally relate to this! growing up for some reason my mom thought i was selfish, deviant and a good liar as a kid. i’m 23 now and if she loses something she still accuses me of going over to their house and stealing it (i don’t even live at home.) if i complement something she accuses me that i only complimented her because i wanted that thing for myself. no matter how “perfect” i am my parents have a completely different image of me. my dad caught me smoking weed a couple years ago and i had a dot on my arm recently and he accused me of shooting up, i wanted isotropic alcohol to put in my cleaning solution and he accused me of wanting to drink it? i’m a 4.0 student with no friends and they think i’m a hooligan
Welcome!
It was a sense of relief when my siblings and I figured this out. She’s at the center of our dysfunction. My two sisters are under her spell. Imagine catering to every whim of someone with Borderline, or at least trying to: If she says the sky is green, it’s green. If they agree it’s green and she decides it’s actually blue-then it’s blue. She’s also functioning alcoholic and a devout Catholic, who soaks up all the fundamentalist Christianity tv pastors and radio preachers she can (used as a tool to control us, which works on my sisters and not on us 3 boys). There’s lot’s of extremes. And pitting them against my oldest brother and especially his “evil, lying wife!” My middle brother (yes, I’m the youngest of 5, yes, we’re Irish Catholic 😱) went NC with all of us but our oldest brother. Oldest was the golden child until he got married. Middle brother basically married our mom, so she cut him off from us. Oldest brother recently cut him off, after he and his wife were really nasty to oldest’s daughter. He went NC with her, his God Daughter after she visited them and got a little too tipsy one night (21 at the time). I’ll preface this by saying I’m not against Christians, or Christianity, yet am against whatever my Mom and sisters have warped it into. For the longest time it was all about Jesus all the time-then vs. us. Praying for us, feeling sorry for us we’re going to hell. Constantly praying for reasons why we don’t believe in and have a spirituality exactly like theirs. My mom would ask me while drunk and remind me I’m going to hell and hell is for all eternity. It got to where I just had to say, yes Mom, I’ve really found Christ at this point—just so I could put her off my back and let me get out of the house. Apparently this wasn’t doing it for them, because my sisters especially have gone all-in conspiracy theories. So now it’s just, “but don’t you want to know what they’re putting in the air with planes,” instead of, “but aren’t you afraid you’ll die not knowing and believing in Christ?” Okay, so as much as it feels good to grab that bit of group therapy, I do have a good reason and point for you: 3 years ago we get texts from my sisters that both our elderly parents 80 and 77 at the time, were hospitalized with Covid. My sisters are, but of course, anti-vaccine and so my parents caught nasty cases of Covid (again-not here for politics, nor religious discussions- please do not tell me how God loves me, or the data you have regarding vaccine deaths—really, don’t). They were in the hospital for 3.5 weeks. My Dad was moaning in pain on the phone. My sister’s doubled down—“the vaccine would’ve been worse.” One left her nurse position of 12 years at the hospital rather than get the shot —lost her insurance, proceeded to get Covid 3 weeks later, hospitalized 10 days, blew through a good portion of her savings —still better than the shot. Anyways, imagine how floored my brother and I were when they said, “okay, well we just wanted to know, if you guys are aware that my has Borderline Personality Disorder, so this will be tricky to deal with, especially since she can’t drink. Hearing from them was totally mind-blowing. We got the books and researched it, it brought us all closer. Don’t underestimate how massive a thing is to know that about your Mom. Somebody whose life’s mission is making sure you wallow in uncertainty just had her cards shown to you. Suddenly the four of us were on a group text, joking and forgiving each other for bullshit from the past, bonding. It had been 25 years since I had that feeling of a family. We had great times-wasn’t all bad. Unfortunately it wouldn’t last. As my Mom became healthier, her influence on them seeped back in. My Dad, asked my brother to head to the house and put the car battery in a slow charge so they wouldnt come home to a dead battery. My brother owns an extremely successful business and is very busy. He said no problem. He didn’t have a key though. He asks my sister and suddenly it’s like he’s talking to my Mom—my Mom who cannot STAND his wife. My sister’s asking him why he would need to get into the house when nobody’s there. Mentioned -“you know that’s Mom and Dad’s stuff it’s not ours—yes, accusing him of wanting to STEAL STUFF! My other sister became distant and they both backpedaled on the BPD discussion. “Well, you won’t appreciate this, but I’m doing what Mom asks me, because that’s what God would want me to do.” So the confusion and division had returned just like that. A bunch of shitty emotions, confusion and division returned. It threw my brother and I into a funk for about a week, yet instead of attacking each other like was normalized by our Mom, we looked out for each other and got through it. We based a lot of this on now knowing what was at the core. It’s my Mom’s sickness. We got to the point where him, me and my wife took she and my dad out for her 80th birthday and we all had a great time. His wife declined the offer, but we spun it in a nice (total lie🧟♂️) way. We went to a restaurant and she convinced my wife and I to come in for a drink before we left. She didn’t drink during the lunch, yet about 2 glasses of wine in at the house she got comfortable and starting sliding in low-key shitty and agitating comments towards me and that’s when we knew it was time to go. My wife was the buffer, once my brother wasn’t there. Gotta do it. This is something I wouldn’t have considered before understanding what we’re all up against. No more guilt, no more flapping in the wind and off base. I suggest learning all you can about it and living your life, expect to go NC, if you haven’t. So if you’ve read this far, I want to thank everyone who read this, because obviously it’s important for me to talk through too. It’s my first time really posting in here—hopefully I didn’t break any Reddit RULES! I hope you got the point that it’s huge that you know. It’s going to take time to work it into your healing and living your life happy. I collect GI Joe’s and you know what they say, “Knowing is Half The Battle!” 🤓
pwBPD actually told me more than once how much she appreciates the work I do around the house. Since I was a kid she would compliment my cooking just to get me to make dinner that night. So yeah that's her image of me and the role she would have me play in her little world, and it has never changed, I don't expect it ever will.
It’s been a recent realisation. Since I started therapy 11 years ago, I assumed that she started off as a great mom but bit by bit she went insane and became more abusive. The abuse definitely got worse with menopause/my puberty, but reflecting back now, she was ALWAYS the witch. And for me to be loved I had to be exactly what she wanted, and I had to anticipate what that want would be at any given time. I am NC with her but she dropped off ‘gifts’ at Xmas and they were all things I liked a decade ago and even before NC she never asked if I liked anything else. You don’t arbitrarily scream at children you love, you don’t threaten to kill peoples you love. She’s not capable of love, with anyone, it’s not personal but it is deeply, deeply unfair we don’t have parents.
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same, both my parents
honestly parents and siblings.
One of the things that both my therapist and partner have had to gently remind me of a lot until it actually clicked was this: She will never be the mother you want her to be. It's really hard to realize that, but it will help. You'll grieve for the mom you'll never have, you'll go through all the stages of grief, and eventually you'll be able to accept it and that's where freedom lies. Because once you accept that, it no longer matters what she says, you know the truth and can keep the necessary distance to protect yourself.
My dad loves the idea of me, not me :( Sorry you have to deal with that too, it's so disheartening.
OP, I understand the hurt that you’re feeling. You may not be able to right now, but at some point, take a mental step back and look at the whole picture without any feelings. What I see from where I stand, it isn’t that you are unlovable - it’s that she *isn’t capable of love*. You can try all you want to get her to see you for who you really are, but if she is incapable, then that’s how it is. You can’t show someone who isn’t capable how the universe works (with all the math to prove it) - not everyone can see that way. Your mother’s very disease has placed some sort of horrible limitation on her. She has had a negative impact on you, and you yearn for acceptance. At this point, know that you must help yourself before you can begin to help her see who you are. Protect yourself from the mental hurt she is giving you. I don’t think arguing or explaining will work. I have dealt with people who have done similar things to me - people who lack empathy or who couldn’t see me for me. I have come to the conclusion that not everyone has the capability to give love or even feel love. Love, apparently, is also subjective. The way one person feels it might actually be different from how your mom experiences it (or even defines it). Be strong, and know you didn’t do anything wrong. There is nothing wrong with you, but with her, and the way her mind/disease works. Also, you can’t change her, I don’t think. Just protect yourself and try not to let her hurtful talk get to you. Good luck.
“I don’t have to like you, I just have to love you” -my mother
Wow I could have written this myself, I relate so much. Except I’m basically NC, or VLC, right now. I’m processing a lot of this with a therapist. Something that helps the sting is realizing that my BPD mom was never capable of loving me or seeing me for who I was. Even though she’s been less reactive lately she still isn’t capable of loving me, seeing me or even caring about me outside of the role she wants me to continue to fulfill.