I have recently finished reading this book for the second time and will provide here a brief overview and review, including extracts and quotes that I particularly identified with.
The book has been described in glowing terms by many reviewers: "...it truly helps the reader to reflect on her pain, as well as relish the hope that she can end the legacy of narcissism..."
"... an amazing journey out of pain."
"The recovery section offers a rich variety of ideas and techniques to use in everyday life."
"...A guide to halting this insidious form of mental abuse and neglect." (The word 'insidious' is so applicable to the nature of narcissistic abuse that I have been tempted to use it in just about every one of my blog posts, and Karyl McBride uses it herself several times in the book (e.g. page 6, "...aspects of maternal narcissism tend to damage daughters in particularly insidious ways")
In the video below, Dr McBride is asked:"What is maternal narcissism?"
She replies: "In simple terms, it is a mother who is incapable of unconditional love and empathy."
If you are reading this blog and wondering whether or not you have a narcissistic mother, the answer will be revealed EVERY TIME you need love, compassion, respect, validation, recognition, moral or emotional support from her. A narcissist will FAIL to do this EACH AND EVERY TIME, even if you explicitly ask her for it, or will begrudgingly do so only on her own terms, with judgement and conditions as standard. For example, if your mother helps you and then later on uses this as a stick to beat you with ("I did this for you, therefore you owe me"), she might not have full-blown NPD but she sure as hell has some severely unpleasant narcissistic traits.
The above video introduction to Karyl McBride's best-selling book explains how narcissism exists on a spectrum, with extreme NPD/malignant narcissism at one end of the spectrum, and people with one or two (normal, healthy) narcissistic traits at the other end (where the majority of people reside). In between these two extremes exist many millions of mothers (and fathers, and others), all over the world, and naturally the further towards the 'extreme' end of the spectrum they are, the more damage they cause and the more suffering they inflict.
As Dr McBride goes on to describe, a narcissistic mother is one who "has her own deep wounds that create barriers so that she can't tune into the emotional world of her children, and it leaves the daughters with this... emptiness".
She then touches on a very important point: the sanctity of motherhood, and the taboo subject of the 'unloving mother':
"Good girls don't hate their mothers. Good girls don't talk bad about their mothers."
Indeed. But while acknowledging the absurdity of 'not being allowed' to feel NATURAL rage against an abusive woman who shows us nothing but hatred, disrespect and contempt, and the fact that this rage is disallowed (and thus repressed) just because that abusive woman happens to be the one who gave birth to us, Dr McBride then states: "This is not a book about anger, rage, resentment or blame." (This assertion is also made on page 6 of the book: "Healing comes from understanding and love, not blame.")
While I uphold the admirable virtuousness of the sentiment, I want to talk about this somewhat 'touchy-feely' aspect of the book before anything else, because it's my main problem with what was otherwise an extremely validating and intelligent read. In the acknowledgements section, Karyl McBride thanks her parents (note: the plural) "for teaching me about perseverance, good work ethic and fighting for what you believe in". All well and good. I could probably think of one or two things to thank my mother for too, apart from giving birth to me, although they would be incidental things, like 'resilience' (I HAD TO BE bloody resilient to survive my childhood), 'bloody-minded determination' (ditto) and 'the ability to enjoy my own company' (ditto). But then, in the introduction, Dr McBride speaks affectionately of her mother when she recounts telling her, with some trepidation, about writing her book: "My mother, bless her heart, said 'Why don't you write a book about fathers?' And of course, she was worried about being a bad mother, which would be expected."
I can only assume from this that Karyl McBride's mother is/was NOT a malignant narcissist. A malignant narcissist would categorically NOT GIVE A SHIT about "being a bad mother", and even faced with hard evidence would DENY to her dying breath having been a bad mother anyway; which is precisely why they manage to be the worst mothers on the planet.
I, personally, would never be able to insert the incongruous endearment 'bless her heart' when recalling ANYTHING my own mother has said or done to me. Not because I am a less forgiving person than Dr McBride - I suspect I'm too forgiving for my own good, in fact. But I do not - yet - forgive my mother. I think I will, and I hope I will, but that is not actually my ultimate goal. My ultimate goal is not to even understand my mother - I will NEVER understand her. I do love her, and I could certainly never hate her, but that's beside the point when you're dealing with a malignant narcissist anyway. Yes, I want to recover and heal, all casualties of narcissistic abuse DESPERATELY want to recover and heal, but I don't like the assumption that anger will 'get in the way' of the recovery process. I disagree. Anger is a CRUCIAL part of the recovery process, and not just to "work through it" (i.e. get rid of it). I will always feel angry, and although the anger is diminishing by the day, it will NEVER diminish to nothing, and I do not WANT it to diminish to nothing. I embrace that anger. I have fucking EARNED that anger, every last blazing particle of it. That healthy, NORMAL and inextinguishable spark of anger means I will NEVER get fucked over by a narcissist again - oh, and that's something else to 'thank' my mother for, I guess.
Dr McBride says herself that "you cannot completely 'cure' the scars of a childhood trauma". You can only work through them, to make them more bearable.
She labours the point slightly that "no person is all good or bad" (page 201). "Whether your mother has narcissistic traits or full-blown NPD, she has some goodness in her. She likely passed along talents, passions, interests and knowledge to you. Remind yourself of the gifts she has given you."
This 'every cloud has a silver lining' mentality does jar with me slightly. I am not so seething with irrational resentment that I am unable to grasp the concept that even the most twisted and hard-hearted person is capable of doing good things, and of bestowing positive feelings. I do not even consider my mother to be a particularly twisted and hard-hearted person - I am perfectly capable of acknowledging her achievements and virtues. The problem is, I just have no way of knowing whether they are 'real' or not, because she is such a mental, monumental FAKE.
Early on, the book asserts that "the complexity of the mother-daughter connection" means it is often "rife with conflict and ambivalence" (even the best mother-daughter relationships have their ups and downs), and yet, echoing the thoughts of every daughter (or son) of a narcissistic mother, Dr McBride describes how she "felt something different - a void, a lack of empathy and interest, a lack of feeling loved."
This is the very essence of maternal narcissism. Also: "Like a good girl, I tried to make excuses and take all the blame." (There's that reference to 'good girls' again.)
The most enduring and helpful message I got from this book is that empathy, being the "cornerstone for love" is the one thing that unites ALL narcissistic mothers by its ABSENCE. I could probably easily have forgiven my mother for everything she has done to me IF she had only displayed some genuine empathy for me from time to time, just occasionally "felt what I was feeling". I would probably be no less damaged or pissed off, but at least I might be permitted the precious illusion that a small part of her does have some vestigial love in her heart for me.
Pages 145-6 look at the Stages of Grief, and I will examine this important topic in another blog post, because I think those stages that Karyl McBride mentions, as proposed by Dr Elisabeth KΓΌgler-Ross in her acclaimed 1969 book "On Death and Dying" (denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance), are really not applicable to the unique grief process we go through as daughters of narcissistic mothers.
Page 208 looks at 'accountability' (my emphases): "Being accountable for your own feelings and behaviour is vital to your mental health and peace of mind. As daughters of narcissistic mothers, what we saw most of the time was the 'blame game' in action. Mother was typically not accountable for her behaviour or feelings and projected them constantly onto others - and particularly onto us."
YES - a resounding YES to this. This seems to support the theory that there is a fine, blurred line between NPD and mental illness.
I didn't gain a huge amount of insight from the middle section of the book - some of the recovery tips are helpful and some of them are downright weird (e.g. 'doll therapy', p.151), but this book is clearly not intended for EVERY daughter of EVERY narcissistic mother. (Such a book is an impossibility.) It's pitched for slightly to severely damaged, hurt and confused daughters of mildly to moderately narcissistic mothers.
If you are profoundly traumatised in many ways - physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually - by a tyrannical malignant narcissist mother who terrorised you to the edge of insanity for most or all of your life, it will probably barely scratch the surface.
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