The Narcissist’s Understanding and Use of 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.”

13 thoughts on “The Narcissist’s Understanding and Use of Tears – Part Two

  1. Notme! says:

    I’ve been thinking about this piece today. I’ve decided to share with you why I think those tears of pride were so powerful. Pride is a complex emotion and in some situations considered a fault or even a sin. I don’t think pride is a fault but maybe an excess of it can cause us to behave in unhelpful ways. Here’s my take on what caused your Dad to shed those tears and why maybe they were so emotion filled.
    I’ve been proud of my son most days of his life. But last summer I got to watch him win at a sporting event that had been his goal for over 5 years. When it was all done and presentations were being made I started to cry. Not just a little tear, but steams of tears that would not stop. Of course I felt proud of him but I also felt:
    – Joy that he was happy and had gotten what he deserved
    – Relief that it had turned out right for him and all his work hadn’t been in vain
    – Love for him and the stength he’d shown as a person
    – Regret for the times I’d wished he’d pack it in and stop driving me mental over it
    – Pride at what he’d done, who he was, that he was mine and that I had supported him and had a part in it.

    But also I cried for all the times it was difficult, that it had not gone well, the times he’d yelled or cried or sulked or said ‘fuck this’ or been an arse to me because he was tired. I cried for his distress when bullied as a child for being so tall (which he now embraced) and even for the fact that I never expected to have him.

    I think your Dad shed his tears for more than your degree result, the job was done with your degree, but I suspect he was thinking about more than the years you spent at university.

    Do you feel pride ever?

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Yes I feel pride.

    2. Kristin says:

      Well written Notme!

  2. Kristin says:

    HG, I doubt that I am the only one who feels this way but when you share the trauma you experienced as a child and your conversations with the good docs, it is very cathartic for empaths, appeals to our need to know and helps us to understand narcissism and its roots.

  3. Dolores Haze says:

    Another beautiful piece, HG. And speaking of tears: as I was reading this, I realized that it’s been weeks and weeks since the last time I cried over the ex-Narc. I owe it to you, HG; the consultations have been extremely helpful (enter tears of pride). I still think about him often, but now it’s along the lines of “what an arsehole” and “what the hell was I thinking”. I’m looking forward to the new year and new consultations that will help me even further.

    Your father would be so proud of you, Mr. HG Tudor, for successfully helping empaths like him get rid of nasty narcs like your heartless mother.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      I am pleased to see the progress that you are making.

      1. Kim e says:

        HG. Where’s the red background? Missing it

        1. Dolores Haze says:

          OMG, my eyes were bleeding; I definitely don’t miss it 🥵

  4. FoolMe1Time says:

    This one always touches my heart because as I’m sure of your Father being extremely proud of you and loving, I’m sure there was also some sadness because he felt he was never there for you. How do I know that? Your father was an empath, most of us live with guilt of things we should have done better for our children.

  5. Kim e says:

    HG. I hate this every time I read it. So unfair to you and your father. Just because I understand why it happened doesn’t mean I have to like it

  6. 🌹Nicky🌹 says:

    Horrible. You must of earned for a hug, for a sincere moment of affection, of love from your Mother. This tears at my heart strings.😭 Nasty 😭

  7. mollyb5 says:

    This is one of my favorites. One because your father is an empath , or very real and sensitive and had to of loved you very much. Second …because it teaches people that being sensitive has power also …that showing our appreciation and deep feelings for our children can show them we care deeply, sometimes more than words. I’m glad you didn’t think your father weak , perhaps you never saw this again because he thought you might think he was weak, or less of a man, because he did show his true feelings. Or like I thought in the past that your mother would criticize him for showing you such true emotion. She may have thought he was trying to manipulate since she is a narc. I

  8. Pingback: The Narcissist’s Understanding and Use of Tears – Part Two ⋆ NarcTopia

Vent Your Spleen! (Please see the Rules in Formal Info)

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.