Tears – Part Two



Having ascertained that the commission of tears arising from physical and/or emotional hurt resulted in a sympathetic reaction from certain people, I committed this to memory. I have rarely encountered much physical pain, enjoying good health and my profession being one where one is at most at risk of a paper cut rather than an errant chainsaw, collapsing ceiling or chemical ingestion. The early conditioning that I have been subjected to, as I know understand, appears to have resulted in me being impervious to many emotional injuries that others suffer from. Even the horrendous sensations which arise from my wounding as a consequence of criticism does not cause the tears to fall. Instead, I must focus on repairing the wound through retreat or the instigation of fury in order to gather fuel. The attention this requires means that I do not suffer the immediate reaction of becoming upset. I must feign upset in order to attract the required sympathy and in doing so I use that issued sympathy in order to bring about the control I require over the subject.

My tuition in the art and use of crying later embraced a different catalyst and one which has served to drive me ever onwards and upwards. I have many gifts and of those the one that was cherished most by my father was my academic ability. As I have mentioned beforehand, he was a very intelligent man, well-read and with an interest in the world at large, something which be bestowed on all his offspring. This served him well in both his careers of commerce and then academia. His was the steady hand at the tiller of our academic progress and he sought to steer a path through the choppy waters of my mother’s ambitions for us, our own desires and what he felt would serve us best. The three, as might you expect, were not always compatible.

I excelled at school which naturally resulted in my progression to sixth form college and I was always destined for university. Naturally it was to the most prestigious that I was directed towards and I achieved admission whereupon in such a fertile environment I began to flex my tendrils as I embraced my dark art, but that is a tale for another time. Alongside this I flourished at my chosen discipline and eventually I graduated with a double first. It was this achievement which Dr E honed in on in one of our discussions.

“So a double first, quite the achievement,” he remarked. I nodded. He was not wrong.

“What did your parents think about it?” he asked.

“My friends once they had their results went racing away to telephone their parents to let them know the outcome. I didn’t.”


“It had already been arranged that I was meeting my parents for dinner that evening and I would tell them my degree result once we ordered.”

“What did you think of that arrangement? Weren’t you keen to tell your parents sooner of your success?”

“I suppose so but I knew there was little point. Even if I had tried to telephone them, nobody would have answered. My mother would have deliberately absented the house so I could not reach them so as to avoid spoiling the anticipation at dinner.”

“So this arrangement was at your mother’s behest?”

“Of course. Who else? If I achieved the expected outcome the evening would pass pleasantly, if I did not, I would be subjected to a lengthy cross-examination unable to avoid it by putting the telephone down.”

“I see. It was fortuitous then that you achieved such an excellent result.”

“Fortune had nothing to do with it. This dinner was placed in the diary as soon as my mother knew when the examination results would be posted. It was a further incentive for me to achieve what was expected of me.”

Dr E nodded and made a note.

“How did the meal progress then? How did they react to news of your achievement?”

“Once our orders had been placed and the waiter walked away, my mother turned to me and asked ‘Well?’ I responded with, ‘I obtained a double first’ and she answered by saying, ‘As expected. I will make the call,’ and she left the table to telephone the other family members to let them know, probably her brother first of all out of them all.”

“No mention of well done or congratulations?” asked Dr E.

I shook my head.

“And your father?” he asked.

“My father waited until my mother was out of earshot and he reached across and placed his hand on my arm and said, “Well done HG, very well done, that is a fantastic outcome. I know just how hard you have had to work for that result. It is a magnificent result, truly outstanding. I am so very proud of you son, very proud indeed,” and then as he said the word proud his voice cracked and I looked up into his eyes and I could see that he was crying. I had never seen my father cry before. Ever. I had seen him concerned, downcast, worried and so much more, but never the tears. His face was fixed with a huge smile and he tried to speak again but he was overcome with pride. Pride for me. Just me. I had not seen anything like it.”

“How did you feel about him showing such pride for you?”

“I was taken aback but then I felt this surge through me and it felt amazing. It was visceral and ever so powerful as I continued to look at him, the tears filling his eyes and he kept nodding. His hand patted my arm, I can still picture it now. He wasn’t able to speak but the look on his face and that nodding told me that somehow he felt that the job was done, the mission had been accomplished and he was proud of me for doing so. I have never forgotten that moment.”

“Why?” asked Dr E.

“Because the way I felt when I saw my father cry tears of pride at my achievement made me want to see that again. The sense of power that he imbued in me, his praise, his pride, his adoration of my achievement was so edifying that he made me strive even harder. Oh, my mother thinks she is the driving force behind my success and it would be wrong to say she has not been. She has been a huge influence but from that point onwards, my postgraduate achievement, my securing employment and advancement through the hierarchy to where I am now and also in terms of what the future may bring has been driven by my father. I wanted to feel that power again and for that to happen I wanted to see those tears of pride again. So I worked damn hard. I never knew that pride would make someone cry. I never knew that someone’s proud tears would make me feel so powerful.”

“I see. Did you see those tears of pride again from your father?”

I felt the first flicker of the ignition of my fury at this question.

“No. Once again something special to me was taken from me.”

41 thoughts on “Tears – Part Two

  1. Joanne says:

    HG, what a tremendous achievement. I’m sorry your mother made everything about herself, and that your father seemingly was unable to defy her by celebrating your accomplishments in her presence. I’m sure he was overwhelmed with pride. But maybe there was something more behind those tears…

    As a mother — I just cannot even fathom herbehavior 🙁

  2. mommypino says:

    This is one of my favorite articles that you wrote. I have mixed emotions in this. I feel happy that your father told you that you made him proud and you were able to see and feel the intense sincerity behind it but somehow it gave me a feeling that it was late. My father was in a different country when I was growing up and I felt that with him striving to stay in my life through letters and financial support he has protected me emotionally from feeling unloved. It is tragic to me that your father has been with you always and still was unable to protect you or unable to make you feel protected because he was misguided and had a false belief that you didn’t need that. All children needs protection. I’m sure that he has always loved you and felt pride for your strengths that he had always seen from you which added to that false belief of you not needing the extra attention. Sometimes I tend to do the same thing to my oldest but I have read enough parenting books to make me make sure that I give both of my kids equal attention. Regardless of the sadness I still feel that this is definitely a special moment in your life and thank you for sharing it with us.

  3. Bubbles 🍾 says:

    Dear Mr Tudor,
    One would have to delve into your mother’s upbringing and past to see why she has become the person she is today
    There’s much much, much much more, to her behaviour

    It appears your father was intimidated and scared of her, as he could not praise you in front of her
    The whole scenario you’ve described is definitely not normal

    Mr Bubbles, myself and your siblings would’ve been waiting outside the uni with bells n whistles on and we would’ve dashed straight to the nearest pub and had celebratory bubbles THEN gone somewhere “you’d have picked” for dinner and given you surprise pressies!
    Who in hell says “well” , then leaves the table, to something sooooo important and exciting ?

    Were all of you siblings treated the same….or were you the only one that was selected for mummy’s special treatment ? I’ve heard, that quite often happens when you are both very much alike and particularly first borns are treated the hardest ..was that the case perhaps?
    I’m glad you had that special bond with your dad …… that will always be with you !
    Thank you for sharing your story Mr Tudor…. sheds a light on who you are and a tear 😢
    Luv Bubbles xx 😘

  4. SMH says:

    HG, Was your father an acdemic? Do you think your mother was jealous of attention he gave you and hence your father withdrew and left you to fend for yourself? Normally a mother would be competitive with a daughter but maybe your case is different. Maybe your mother felt threatened by your brilliance.

    Also, and this might sound weird, but do you think you would have been as successful without the abuse? I think this can be the price brilliant and creative people pay for fulfilling their potential. It’s kind of like narcissism itself. You have to have the innate ability but in order to reach your potential something has to happen in your upbringing to unleash achievement. For many of us, it is this unrelenting need to impress cold and distant parents.

    Would you trade in your life successes for a happier childhood? If you could have either a happy and healthy childhood or be brilliant and creative in adulthood with your potential fulfilled (but not both), which would you choose?

    1. HG Tudor says:

      1. He was largely, he had other interests, but academia was his primary role.
      2. Undoubtedly. She is after all a narcissist.
      3. Valid question – I am naturally talented, but my narcissism has clearly imbued in me a drive, hunger and manipulative ability which has supplemented and enhanced that which is already there.

      1. SMH says:

        Maybe in some ways your parents did you a favor? I tend to think that I would not have achieved nearly as much had I not had a need to impress my parents. But I also think my intimate relationships would be healthier had my parents been warmer and more empathic.

        There seems to be a tradeoff. Perhaps with warmer parents you would have been steadier in love but not as high flying in your career?

        I do wonder about this because my professional life could not be better but my love life has been the pits! Ha.

        Part of it is probably a gender thing – a lot of men have problems with successful women. But I also think it is generalizable to some extent. For instance, my youngest brother is brilliant and successful in his work but he’s never had a relationship last more than a year (my track record is much better). He’s not a narc but his emotional problems were also evident early in life and were exacerbated by family dynamics.

        Just my two cents but I think at some point we all have to accept that we are who we are today because of those dynamics. We are lucky if we are successful in any part of our lives when so many people are not (but that is my optimistic, grateful, always seeing the bright side self speaking).

    2. kel says:

      What good is success, especially when it’s only superficial to impress others, if you have to sell your soul to the devil to achieve it? Narcissists are talented, that’s the shame of it. They might not feel upset or worried, but they can never be satisfied or at peace or adequately accomplished, they can’t rest. I believe you can give your soul freely to a higher power, not a lower, and exceed happily, not restlessly, and without harming others. I know that I can now that I’m free of the psychological goo from narcissists.

      1. SMH says:

        Kel, not sure what you mean by selling souls to the devil or higher/lower powers. I don’t believe in devils or higher/lower powers. Lots of exceptionally accomplished people have mental problems. Not necessarily narcissism but other issues. There can be very strong connections between mental illness and creativity. That’s all I was getting at – not that narcissism itself is the tradeoff but that creativity and accomplishments might be.

  5. Abw Flying says:

    It breaks my heart…

  6. santaann1964 says:

    I would be so incredibly appreciative if one day you share your experiences of abuse in which your mother had put upon you. Seems that she is the one that has caused you to have an emotional shield. I’m a mother and I would say you always did a great job. Wait until dinner was ordered.. That’s where you learned the control. You would have to been taught extreme discipline to hold back all of your goodness. That’s mean of your parents. You can share you achievements here and get instant gratification because that’s how it should be! You were indirectly taught this behavior. And I’m sure no one is accountable for this. Again stop the pattern of abuse. It can only start with you. Thank you for sharing Mr.H.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      It will be detailed in forthcoming books.

      1. santaann1964 says:

        Soooo Mr. H will you also go deep into what you subjected to by your mother, I’ve picked up on several interviews when asked you state strongly you won’t go there. I am hoping you do, that’s where you can feel the pain, break the cycle and feel! It’s a feeling of freedom. God bless!

  7. Presque Vu says:

    You said you felt powerful from your fathers tears of pride, a positive interaction and his emotion made you feel good. Maybe power equals a happiness of sorts?

    Did you notice you got the same feeling of power from a positive encounter as you do from a negative one? That’s very interesting to me.

  8. BurntKrispyKeen says:

    Your father reminds me of my father, HG. I am glad that you shared such a special moment with yours.

    And I know this sentiment comes late, but congratulations on your academic success.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Thank you.

  9. WhoCares says:


    “His was the steady hand at the tiller of our academic progress and he sought to steer a path through the choppy waters of my mother’s ambitions for us, our own desires and what he felt would serve us best.”

    It seems, in these words, that you respect your father for the particular type of guidance that he provided. Do you feel at all that, in his own way, he was protecting you the best way he knew how? Or perhaps by his guidance and encouragement he was helping you achieve the tools/skills you would later rely on to protect yourself?

    The first time that I read this was memorable for me. The second time is too, but for a different reason. But it is still, hands down, my favourite piece of writing by you.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      He protected the others, not me.

      1. BurntKrispyKeen says:

        I agree with you, WhoCare. This is a profound piece of writing for me, too.

        HG, I apologize that I’m not up to par on your family dynamics as much as other readers, but in response to WhoCares’ question… Why is that? Do you feel that your father was somewhat jealous of your interactions with your mother, or did he see a unique strength in you that he knew the other children lacked?

        1. HG Tudor says:

          As explained previously, he felt I could look after myself and his efforts were focused on my siblings instead.

          1. kel says:

            HG, your father cared very much for you, and you only wanted his tearful reactions. Do you think you might have felt superior to him early on in life when you were only interested in getting your own way? Your father stood up for your siblings, but let you alone possibly because you defied him? You went to your mother when you were hurt, not to your father. I only say this because my daughter did this to me with her grandmother. I fought with my mother over my daughter all through the years, but they were in each others grips- my mother wanting to control her, my daughter wanting her own way. I let them both have their way, but I stepped in to put my foot down whenever necessary. It’s not that your father didn’t look out for you, he was on the sidelines, and there when you needed him that day at lunch.

          2. HG Tudor says:

            Not felt superior, I was (was since he is dead) . He did not protect me as he deemed I was able to do so myself.

          3. kel says:

            I forgot to add that I protected my second born daughter from my mother.

          4. BurntKrispyKeen says:

            He wasn’t wrong there, HG. You did look after yourself. Your father just didn’t realize that all of his children needed more. When additional siblings are involved, it is difficult to equally spread the guidance. (Do any of us ever meet our childrens’ needs equally?)

            Your father reminds me of Dad in the way that he was strong, stoic, yet sensitive beneath. My cousin often told me that my father was the toughest man he knew, saying that you could drop my father in the middle of nowhere with just a pocket knife, and he’d survive. I always took that as a compliment since my cousin’s own father (my dad’s brother) served in the US Navy during WWII and in the US Army during the Korean War. Dad was just a kid during WWII, so he’d often tease my uncle for getting “shot in the ass,” saying that was the best target they could find to hit.

            Since I believe that you and I are the around the same age, HG, that’s just how the men of that generation were. They always expected more of their sons. (Although Dad did his best to toughen up my sister and me, too!) But when my brother would not succeed at something, my Dad would say, “It’s as if he isn’t from my loin.” (Jeez – Dad, we girls didn’t want to hear THAT!) Dad was very sensitive but cocky. He’d never start a fight, but he would never back down from one either. He was, in many was, more caring than my mother. Mama could be nurturing but was more cold like your mum. Neither of my parents were/are narcissist, but they were tough to deal with at times. (Dad has passed; Mama is still kicking.) Neither of them cared to pop my ass if I stepped out of line. Sometimes I still find myself ducking if anybody moves an arm quickly.

            It’s fascinating to me how much control parents have over our young lives. I’m looking forward to learning more, as I agree with Kel… your father was sooo proud of you that day, HG. Mum, too, even if it was mostly for her own gain… she didn’t know how to show it any other way. They were BOTH proud of your accomplishments. ❤ Understandably so.

      2. WhoCares says:

        Yes, I understand. I’m sorry for your experience.

        The first time reading this was memorable for me because I had not yet read anything about how you feel about your father.

        This time round I read it with further insight into how I view my own father. And that lead to my question.

        Thank-you for sharing.

      3. windstorm says:

        You said that your father protected your siblings but not you. I understand that and have seen it happen in other families. Empathic people will often comfort and protect the weaker, more emotional children, but not the children who don’t cry and show fear. They excuse this lack of attention and protection by saying things like, “He didn’t need any help” or “ He was strong and could handle it on his own.”

        I’ve heard my MIL say that about Pretzel. “He was the oldest and the smartest. He always took care of himself and never let anything bother him.” That was clearly ludicrous with the benefit of hindsight and knowing what all had been expected of him, but she always did believe it.

        I think it’s a flaw in many empathic people to instinctively go by the emotions expressed by a child to determine if they are ok or not. Children who for whatever reason don’t express the full range of emotions, often lose out this way on getting the understanding and parental attention they need.

        1. SMH says:

          Windstorm, Good points but I think narcs do it too to be dismissive and maybe more. My narc mother certainly did – “oh, I don’t worry about you” by way of disinterest. MRN would also say that he only worried about one of his kids because she was very bright but also had social problems (the one most like him, I guess). He also once described one of his kids as “nothing special.” To give him the benefit of the doubt, I think he was trying to say “she’s just a regular kid,” but it sure came out in a way that I noticed.

          1. windstorm says:

            True. Certainly narc parents dismiss their children’s needs.

            I was just talking about empathic parents, like HGs dad and why they often dismiss their narc or otherwise less emotionally demonstrative children’s needs.

        2. BurntKrispyKeen says:

          That is so true, Windstorm; we are naturally drawn to the weak. Empathic people want to protect those who need it most. But in doing so, we often overlook that everybody has needs.

          There have been many studies on the prevalence of birth order, and I find it fascinating… and disturbing since I am the middle child. 🥴 I know that my older sister feels somewhat robbed of her childhood for having to look after my younger brother and me. But when she gets to complaining, I want to ask her, “What all do you think you did for us?” But I don’t, because I’m too afraid she’ll have a long list of tasks that will make me feel guilty. (I just wish I could remember. Surely she’s referring more to our little brother!? But when I think of him, I think of how difficult it can be to become a man within our modern world.)

          Often, it is the strongest who gets neglected. As a mother of two boys, I saw this happen within our society. Understandably and necessarily so, we have fought and pushed to bring equal opportunity for girls, to empower women. I truly believe that to empower a woman is to empower everyone, and in doing so, the benefits for society will be great. But I often wonder if some of our progress wasn’t at the expense of our boys?

          Many times, I saw how boys got pushed to the side because they were viewed as more rowdy or considered to already be at an advantage. (My view might be unpopular, but I am not for an entirely gender-neutral world as I believe that there are some profound differences between men and women. I see us as equal but different, and I rather like those differences. And I’m not talking about equal pay as I am definitely a feminist there! I just wish that we could find a way to embrace our differences but still make everyone feel valued, on an equal level.)

          It reminds me of a person of wealth. Just because she can afford to always pay… to buy whatever she wants, it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t appreciate the gesture when someone brings her a small token of a gift. A wealthy woman usually still wants to feel that pleasure, even if she rejects the offer. Everyone wants to feel special.

          In dealing with many children, I can only imagine how difficult it is to to meet all of their needs. My two children are far apart in age. I always said it was because God knew that I could only handle one at a time. 😔 So I feel judgemental in saying this, but I do hope we parents can learn to do a better job in promoting everyone. Because as I have learned at Narcsite… to neglect a “strong” child can be just as damaging as leaving a weaker one to fend for himself.

          1. windstorm says:

            I just got back from KS where my daughter just had baby #5. Her oldest is only 6. I can shoot you plenty of examples I’ve heard directed to the 3, 4 and 6 yr olds that I bet your sister could identify with:
            Where’s the baby? Get her out of there. Keep her happy. Share yours with her. Are you watching her? Find her shoes. Don’t let her get dirty. Take that away from her. Put this diaper in the trash. Run get more diapers. Find her pacifier… I could go on and on – and I bet your sister could too!

          2. BurntKrispyKeen says:

            Congratulations, Windstorm… I am glad to hear that the newest addition has arrived and that all is well. I can only imagine how overwhelmed your daughter is feeling… blessed but stressed, I’m sure. 😳 (No doubt, your daughter appreciated a visit from her mama. 🤲)

            Your examples made me laugh out loud and cringe at the same time. I just sent up a few prayers for that growing family, especially for a certain little six-year-old big sibling. 🤗

            I usually take my sister out of town to a concert for her birthday. This month, I have plans to take her somewhere each week. We have already had an excellent seafood meal at the first of the month and saw Greenbook this past weekend. This Friday, I’m taking her to a place called Farmer and Frenchman. It’s located on a small Kentucky vineyard. The lady farmer married a French fellow, hence the name.
            When I see my big sister on Friday, I am now going to be EXTRA nice to her!

            Again, congratulationson your newest blessing!

          3. windstorm says:

            Thank you! I worry about my daughter too. She sure has her hands full! The newest addition is a little sweetheart and I enjoyed getting to hold n rock her. Sad they live so far away, but at least so far I’m up to the 12 hr drive to visit them. I will miss seeing them, but it’s sure nice to be back home!

        3. NarcAngel says:

          I agree with you and experienced what Pretzel did. Never any consideration because it was deemed that I could handle myself. When I was older my mother was going on about one of my younger siblings having such a hard time breaking up with someone. I told her I was surprised at her reaction since she gave not one comforting word when I was going through divorce. Her answer was: Well you seemed fine. You always could handle things. Even recently when my siblings were going on about their treatment and the effects, when I expressed that we all grew up in the same house, the sarcastic response was that I seem to being doing just fine.

          1. windstorm says:

            It’s like that old saying, “It’s the squeaky wheel that gets the grease.” I’ve been there too and know how it feels. It’s a rough feeling- not only were your needs not met and ignored, but even when it’s brought up later, your suffering was trivialized like it never existed. The opposite of being understood.

          2. BurntKrispyKeen says:

            That had to feel horrible, Narc Angel. You offered a perfect real-life example of what we were saying… even empathic people tend to forget that the strongest has needs, too. (And if a parent is a narcissist… well, they rather enjoy in playing favorites, which is cruel to say the least.)

            Everybody needs support from time-to-time. Everyone wants to feel loved. I am sorry that your family saw your strength in such a way that they weren’t there for you during an incredibly difficult time. I agree with Windstorm on the whole squeaky wheel phenomenon. The stoic, quiet ones often get overlooked.

            Whenever my sister and I start to discuss our childhoods, it’s as though we feel the other was “the favorite.” We each have examples to support our theories. Sometimes, I think Mom and Dad played us against one another in that they’d brag about one of us to the other, perhaps to spark a drive. But oftentimes, the accolade would be something they’d never compliment to our own face. Just the other day, my son told me of a very flattering comment that my mother said about me. Hmmm. Grandma will tell him but not say it to me! (I can recall insults but never a compliment like the one she recently said about me to my youngest son. Why?)

            I don’t get it.❓I’m amazed at how much power parents have over us… to really fuck us up.
            (Now, if my adult son is on another blog bashing me, please let me know! 😮)

      4. santaann1964 says:

        I hear so much of your experience in my narc, like your experiences with your parents, he is certainly not as successful as you. Always pushed aside. After listening to you and having a visit from his parents, I can clearly see why this self has been created by my narcissist. It’s sad

  10. Christopher Jackson says:

    Damn cant wait for pt 3 hg…sounds like ur mum is a narc herself….sounds like the siblings aren’t narcs well done hg on the double first.

    1. BurntKrispyKeen says:

      Hi, Christopher … I don’t know nearly as much as I would like about HG’s childhood as this area completely fascinates me. Childhood is such an important, sacred time for us all, that I hate to speculate too much, but I know from HG’s writings that he does view his mother as a narcissist. He often refers to her as MatriNarc. I’m not sure if he coined that term, but it is quite clever.

      1. Christopher Jackson says:

        Cool yea he has these recent writing a quartet as he called them about “tears” and how he had found his way to manipulate them out of people…and he is letting us in to his childhood a bit

        1. BurntKrispyKeen says:

          Yep, tears are powerful Christopher. Tears heal and reveal. Tears flow fairly easily from my eyes but never without a genuine emotion to prompt them. As emotional as I can sometimes be, I am simply unable to “call one up.” Mostly, I find myself trying hard to suppress them… but there has to be a heartfelt reason for my tears to emerge.

          So I was a bit suspicious of HG’s two tears during therapy. I naturally want to believe that his tears were more sincere than feigned, especially since he made himself recall “the hurt” in order to allow those few droplets to surface. So I read his words as he actually felt something in that moment. Naturally, once a tear appears, a narc is gonna shift gears to immediately think, “Hey, I feel a little moist droplet here; I shall work this to its fullest advantage.” 😪)
          Jeez! But I guess I have to admire their ability to not waste…
          Reduce – Reuse – Recycle 🚮
          I think if HG could ever find himself comfortable enough to explore on a deeper level, he could allow more emotions to surface. Of course nobody really wants to relive that pain. But to cry for ourselves, when we’ve been raised to think it’s wrong… I think doing such is very cathartic. And when dealing with a narcissist, tears are necessary to be able to heal and move on. More people, especially men, should allow themselves to cry. (I know – there’s no cure for NPD, but I simply cannot give them a free pass on some of their behaviors. I have to believe that they can at least improve.)

          I understand that narcissists cry for themselves… but to practice cognitive empathy might be to someday actually *feel* it. ❔ My narcissist could cry, if I hit a certain spot. Tears for himself, sure, but there were also the rare tears for others. I simply do not think that he was that good of an actor to be able to just pop out a tear whenever he’d recall certain events. (Although he did consider himself to be quite the talented thespian. 😝 😶) Still, there was the occassional genuine emotion there.
          I found this four part series most interesting too, Christopher. It does show the many ways that the narcissist utilizes tears for manipulation. My narcissist would drink up my tears up as if he had been stranded on a desert, yet at other times, try to belittle me for crying. Was your narcissist fairly free of tearful emotions or was he/she a crier?

  11. G.B. says:

    This one made me tear up too, but with happiness that you experienced your father’s tremendous pride and joy over your brilliant achievement. You deserved this. You also deserved to receive countless other times where you were loved, appreciated and supported and I so wish you had had those too.

    1. BurntKrispyKeen says:

      Hi, G.B. … I felt the same way as you when I read this.

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