How did you first realize your parent was a narcissist? What signs made it click for you?

Hey everybody, I recently learned that my mom is a narcissist (a communal one). Let me tell you how I found this out and what happened over the past few days. (Sorry if I make mistakes, I’m not a fluent English speaker.)

It happened this Monday. I was texting a girl who was very attractive despite her clear narcissistic behavior. A month ago, I was reading a book by Robert Greene called The Laws of Human Nature, which talks about narcissistic behavior and other things like it. So I immediately recognized what she was doing. After that, my curiosity led me to search for "types of narcissists" online. That’s when I found the "communal narcissist"—the type of person who makes everything to appear altruistic, engaged in a cause, and very compassionate.

As I kept reading, my face started to change. Every signs seemed to point to the one person I know best: my mom. The passive-aggressive behavior, the display of her fervent Christian activities, the stories where she talks about how much she cares about her family. But most of all, the years of hearing things like, "I did everything for you, and this is how you repay me?" or "Look at yourself, you're 19 and don't have any friends." Or, "You traded gold for shit" (when I left religion) with tears on her face. Or, "Go out on the street; they’ll break your nose again."

Honestly, I had some doubts in the past, but now, after crying a lot these days, there’s no doubt anymore—she’s pathetic, selfish, and manipulative. I’m going through both headaches and emotional pain because no one in my family believes me. They’re already telling me I’m not worthy of her love.

Not only that, but when I tried to argue with her, she started recording me, just to tell others that I’ve gone crazy and become a conspiracy theorist. She even slapped me (even though she’s physically weaker than me). Later that day, she tried to calm me down with a sweet voice, but when she saw I wasn’t responding, she would go off and blame me for her miserable life.

In my mind, I’m constantly watching my subconscious play tricks on me—first thinking of all the good old memories, then facing the harsh reality that I haven’t been accepted for so long.

But hey, I’ve got to say, I feel a bit better now that I don’t have to live under this pressure anymore. I wish I could never see her or talk to her again.