Who’s The Daddy?
I remember when I first met you. It was on a dance-floor and of course I caught your eye, I wanted you to catch my eye. I always draw those needed admiring glances when I move through a crowd but whilst those were required and welcome, I was focussed on ensuring you noticed me.
I knew that you would.
It was just a question of time. It always is. I was stood near one of the bars.I always chose this bar as it was elevated allowing everyone to see me and allowing me to see everyone and it was from this vantage point that I observed you. I saw you enter the room, your tight as tight could be dress already turning heads and you smiled, winked and blew kisses as you walked down the steps onto the dance floor as if everybody in the club was there for you.
You were confident alright but you were over confident and I could see straight through that. I kept watching you as you flirted with the men nearby, irrespective of whether they were with another lady and you seemed oblivious to the hateful stares you received from the handful of girlfriends or wives whose other halfs you flirted with. I was interested in you already. If I had a Spidey sense it would have been tingling.
Your lithe frame entered the dancefloor and you felt that the coloured lights and throaty bass were all there for you as you began to dance. You caught the eye of several men and one by one they tried to dance with you .I could see you smiling to yourself as you turned your back on those you deemed beneath you.
Each of them was well-dressed and good-looking but you rejected them. You milled around the dance floor until you neared your target, a handsome chap but he was older than those you had rejected and he was your choice. You pulled the chosen one towards you and you began your dance with him.
I could see the way that you were grinding against this man on the dance floor was provocative and suggestive. You maintained eye contact with him, as if letting him out of your sight would cause him to disappear. Your eyes burned with wanton desire and your undulating and writhing was most definitely sexual in nature.
The sexual aggression flowed from you and this caught my interest. You appeared as a bright dot on my radar and I knew that I needed to learn more.
It was not long before this dance partner was cast aside and replaced by a tastier and more attractive prospect. Me. You draped your arms about my neck as we danced, ground your crotch into my thigh, turned and pushed your pert posterior into my crotch and it was clear you wanted to seduce me.
I played along, reciprocating the movements, letting my hands glide across your body as I eventually steered you across to the bar area and sat beside you on a couch as I ordered us both a drink.
This was the first time that I had seen you be still and it allowed me to appraise properly your appearance. Your hair, a dirty blonde colour was not cut but rather chopped short, sticking out in a variety of angles which gave the appearance of not caring but most likely had been carefully pulled and twisted into place before a generous layer of hair spray was applied. I reasoned that you wore your hair short because as a child you were denied the right to have it cut short.
You always had to have it long and golden, like the hair of a princess. I bet your father would read you stories about Sleeping Beauty, Snow White and Rapunzel as he stroked your hair, telling you how beautiful it was because it was long. I imagined that you wanted to cut it as you got older, the length being difficult to maintain but moreover too symbolic of the safe, suburban and middle-class upbringing you had received when you wanted to rebel.
I bet you fought to have that hair cut even just by a few inches but you were forbidden from doing so and now this punkish, chopped and almost butchered hair style was the two-fingered salute you had given to your past. It screamed its story to me since I recognised it from a mile.
Your lipstick was bright red, your eyes framed by black mascara, eye liner and a battleship grey eye shadow. You were thin. Stick-like and I recognised such a frame. You stared at me as you sucked on the straw sliding it in and out of those pursed lips as you tried, without subtlety, to suggest what I might have coming my way.
You were much younger than me. I would imagine at least fifteen years between us. Nowhere near illegality of course, that is not my penchant at all, but a sufficient age gap that was noticeable and of course something they would comment on, he would comment on, if they ever met me. If.
I saw the tattoos on your arms, great sleeves of floral designs and also similar on your thigh as your already short dress rode up as you sat on the sofa. I could see the design was intricate and extensive across your left thigh but it did not mask the line of scars completely. That neat and ordered row of incisions that had been made in your thigh, like notches on a bedpost.
They brought you relief, temporary and momentary, but they also shamed you and thus you sought the ink in an attempt to mask those wounds in the same way that I knew this overt confidence, flirtation and sexual aggression was just a mask as well. That light on my radar shone brighter and I could almost smell the fuel that I knew would flow from you freely and readily, just like the blood had flowed down your thigh.
I held your gaze, those flinty eyes trying to burn into my mind but getting nowhere, a slight flicker of confusion and then they shifted into conveying that desire you oozed. You had no idea whose web you had flown into but I knew exactly what you were.
“What time is your daddy picking you up?” I asked my question near shouted to be heard over the music playing.
You coughed, the straw shooting from your mouth as you jerked your glass away.
“What? My dad? He’s not picking me up,” you protested.
Your expression was not one of mild amusement but rather disdain and irritation. Just as I thought it would be.
“Of course not. Why would he do that when you are coming home with me?” I added with a wide smile. Your eyes widened and you copied my smile.
“I do love daddy issues,” I said quietly.
“What?” you asked unable to hear.
“I said, I nearly missed you,” I replied in a louder tone, “I was about to go home.”
“Well, it is a good job you didn’t,” you answered as you moved closer to me, pressing that fragile and broken frame against me, seeking the warmth, shield and protection that I offered you.
You had found your new daddy.
I had found a potent new victim.
Continue the story with “Spanked”
41 thoughts on “Who’s The Daddy?”
Vent Your Spleen! (Please see the Rules in Formal Info)
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
You have quite the way of holding up the mirror to ones face. I was SO good at denial. Until I wasn’t. Still appreciate the brutal education.
LET
Only of you care to answer of course: Was religion as part of life assumed, discussed and encouraged in your home growing up as is common for many, or do you think it appealed to you and developed as a result and reaction to your environment? Are you the only one with a religious belief system in your family?
Hi NA, religion was used for the purposes of the facade in my family. There were no deep and meaningful beliefs held with regard to that. In fact, in many ways it was quite the opposite. Conversations in our home could be quite open at times as well as the thinking that went along with that. The lack of control environment probably did cause a reaction (as in I prayed for it to end!) but I had no real sense that anyone was coming to my rescue. My curiosity was only triggered again as an adult in the circumstances I described in the most recent Holy Narcissist thread.
Yes, I am the only one in my family with a religious belief system. My mother dropped that part of the facade once we became adults and it was no longer required. At least no one bothered to attend Church anymore and that was the end of that. As they are inclined to do, my siblings (a brother and sister) both followed obediently in my mother’s footsteps and have continued to do so until this day. I accept that is their choice, and does not have to be the same as mine.
No doubt me developing these beliefs has been a further reason to ostracize me. Or at least cement me in the position of being the odd one out. As that was the case already, it’s been easier for me to accept in some ways, though there are times I rail against it. But, developing my current beliefs was as much a surprise to me as it was to anyone else at the time. There is no rhyme or reason and it cannot be explained.
I have no problem with you asking, btw, NA.
LET
Thank you for your response. I had wondered if it was part of the family facade but then used against you later.
If memory serves me correctly, I believe HG confirmed that his involvement with her was not a one off either.
Your memory serves you correctly, NA.
HG great article. But my my. She is an innocent. Tut tut. To young to be corrupt and broken by you. You might get a load more fuel if you help her. You could try?
‘Who’s the Daddy?’
Why of course, Hg. It is you.
Am I assuming that this is about a Lesser as it does not seem to be someone who is an empath? Please do correct me if I am wrong HG.
You are wrong.
Would you share your insight on this person?
On who?
Obvs, I was not aware that you could not see the previous comment when you moderated comments 🙂 I just thought, is he going to ‘WTF is she on about now?’ hahaha.
Asp Emp, From memory, HG has confirmed on previous threads that this person is an empath and most closely fits with being a geyser. There were originally discussions around her likely being a borderline, HG has subsequently concluded that there is no such thing as a borderline and that those suspected of being one are either mid range Ns or empaths who have been subjected to abuse and are suffering from the trauma of it. I hope that helps clarify a little.
Ah, thank you for clarifying that to me. “empaths who have been subjected to abuse”, I would agree with you on that, I’ll say no more. Thank you x
I’m so interested in this as I don’t get the BPD diagnosis at all and the way it is lumped in with narcissism, sociopathy and psychopathy. It’s a gut reaction I have to the diagnosis and I’d like to think that empaths suffering from the trauma of abuse are diagnosed correctly. How would you determine the difference between severely wounded empath and MRN?
A habitual pattern of behaviour absent emotional empathy.
Thank you for that response, HG. The absence of emotional empathy would be a clear sign. and it may take some time to determine habitual patterns of behaviour. But it does seem the line would have to be clear cut at some point between the two.
That’s a good point lickem. I think that many of us who have been on here for a very long time would be able to tell the difference. If we were interacting with them in person that is. Because there would still be signs of empathy and rationale. They wouldn’t blame the entire world on their misfortune or if they did it would be temporary and not everyone for everything. I suspect it would be more difficult in the case of someone who has grown up with and been traumatised by Ns from childhood as it would be more deeply rooted but there would still be empathy there and they would, I imagine, be pretty wild, need a fair amount of attention, have a degree of codependency to them but not actually a codependent. Despite being wild they would still be there for their family and friends etc etc. I think they wouldn’t recycle exes in the same way as an N would. I imagine it would be fairly distinct for the trained eye. The fact is, as we well know, unless someone has been educated by HG they are highly unlikely (unless a greater) to have a trained eye. Psychiatrists do not understand narcissism to the same degree we do. Their knowledge is relatively superficial. It has to be. They misdiagnose all of the time. And just to be clear I have never seen a psychiatrist or a counsellor (except as a young child because my mum thought I was ‘difficult’ because I would never give up on something which was morally right, all the time my sister was getting away with murder£. But I know enough people who have. My guess would be an empath displaying signs of what is considered to be BPD in the long term would actually be extremely rare and it would be far more likely those diagnosed with BPD to be an N. And although from my perspective if an empath displays BPD signs etc because of what they were subjected to in their childhood, could that then be classed as BPD?
Fair observations, AS2016.
Ooh thank you very much HG. I appreciate that, very much so.
Hi Alexis, thanks for that feedback 🙂 It gives me more insight and I was glad to see HG feels BPD deserves greater scrutiny. I don’t know why I have a gut reaction to this diagnosis, but it seems to align with HGs thinking and perhaps they’ve lumped it in with narcissism, etc. because they are actually dealing with narcissist’s and not because it’s a spectrum disorder associated with NPD/ASPD. I guess I’m concerned because it’s always preferable for people to get correct diagnoses and treatment. It can make such a difference. At the same time, these labels carry such negative connotations and where those who are NPD, etc, may not be greatly affected by that due to their likely inability to accept the diagnosis or engage with treatment, a misdiagnosed empath could suffer greatly in the circumstances.
That’s an interesting story about your mother and sister, too. And how ‘difficult’ behaviour can be perceived. Doing the ‘right’ thing doesn’t always earn you the brownie points you deserve. And might even get you a visit to the Psych’s office! I’m guessing they realized there was nothing wrong with you 😉
It is influenced by gender bias.
HG, if I understand your comment correctly, you are saying that rather than diagnose women as narcissists they are being diagnosed with BPD? Which is the reason the percentage of female narcissists is not equivalent to men (which I believe it should be)?
Correct.
The term “narcissist” is stigmatic, “borderline” less so (although those who tangle with “borderlines” would disagree and that is because that particular individual was a narcissist.) The term narcissist is still (misunderstood) to use with regard to the alpha male, the haughty, eats what he kills, arrogant, strutting peacock when that is just one form of narcissism. Society wishes (despite noises of equality) to see women as empathic, caring, maternal and nurturing, labelling them as a narcissist is stigmatic and flies contrary to that societal constraint. Therefore borderline is used instead and as you right ly point out means there is a skewed percentage (from some observers, not me) with regard to the percentages of narcissists per gender. BPD covers victims who have PTSD or narcissists.It should not be a distinct category in itself.
Excellent explanation, HG. It makes so much sense as you describe it and there are lots of misconceptions about narcissists as well as women in general. I have to say I agree.
It is an interesting subject. And definitely something I’d like to learn more about – through HG though and not someone who is following a text book.
I do feel massively for the empaths who are misdiagnosed and it is only through having the level of understanding HG has afforded us that I see many things very clearly now. Still much to learn of course. Misdiagnosis is all too common and I hope one day that HG will re-write the DSM and British equivalent so that there is clear, consistent information out there. Of course, with many psychs being NPD themselves they’ll diagnose what they want to diagnose regardless. It does make me feel sad that when genuine people seek therapy and they will likely either being treated by an N or an E who really wants to help them but lacks the correct knowledge. I have noted though from some of my friends that there are some counsellors who do have some degree of knowledge on NPD now and how it may affect them and they seem to have at least a reasonable grasp and recognise that the best thing is to GOSO. Others still think the N can change.
I complied with my visits to psych/counsellors as a young child. But refused point blank to engage as a teen, either by failing to attend appointments or refusing to speak when I was there. I recognised they were of no help to me, it was pointless. Although I did not understand why.
As for re my mother/sister, when I was a child, it must have been difficult for my mother and I do see that now. My sister was so easy to get along with and my mum never saw the sneaky things she got up to. She was very amenable and ‘loving’ towards my mother as she wanted to be the center of everyone’s world. She would do/say bad things which only I would know. I would react, I would be punished either for my reaction or telling tales and she would not. I recall many occasions when this would happen and my mother would refuse to take us out for the day unless I admitted my wrong doings. We were usually going to be going somewhere very exciting and I really wanted to go. But there was absolutely no fucking way on this earth I was going to apologise/admit something I had not done. Not a chance and not at any cost – I’d rather miss out altogether. it had to be right. Where as my sister would say/do anything at all to ensure she got what she wanted and complied with whatever my mother’s wishes were. She would quite simply sell herself to make sure she was always number 1. It took me a very long time to recognise just how much time and effort my sister invested as a child and adult in ensuring she was the absolute favourite. Even little things like, e.g. on my mum’s mobile she saved her name with several **** in front of it because my name comes before hers in the alphabet and she wanted to come first ffs! (I don’t know that, just read into it and would not have been my mother’s style to have saved my sister’s name in that way, but she would have accepted it being done. It’s all these little subtle things I see so clearly now. My sister is not sadistic but would screw you over if she could to make sure she is the winner. Even winning little things that noone else would care about, you’d not know this had happened and she’d be smiling and holding your hand all the way. And allow you to beleive you were the winner, even though you were not. I fairly certain she is UMR but have often wondered re her being a greater but she just cuts it short on many things. But I think perhaps there is some degree of blurred lines in that respect.
Let it go Alexis, let it go. ahhahahah sorry. total digress there Lickem! felt good though. Thank you.
Absolutely agree with you on HG and a rewrite of the DSM, and I hadn’t quite factored in the fact that a lot of the people treating (or at least a few) may well be on the spectrum themselves. Not sure how else they could be as unattached as they need to be to deal with what must come their way sometimes. That’s another way of looking at it, I guess.
Wow, your sister sounds like a piece of work and very manipulative. So, I’d say you’ve got that right about her being a narc and where she sits as far as HGs categories go … love the **** in front of her name on your mum’s phone 😛 Only a narc would think of that! FFS is right. And I absolutely love the stance you took, even as a child, to stand your ground when you knew you were in the right. That shows a really strong character and it’s a hands down bet your mum didn’t know how to deal with that. She probably wanted a quiet life and your sister was giving it to her, and you weren’t. And your sister was obviously very underhand in her dealings, so she was able to go under the wire as well. Don’t blame you for refusing to play the game and continue with appointments which were ultimately of no use to you. Something told you it wasn’t you. Narcs have a habit of being the ones who put us into treatment instead of the other way round!
It sounds somewhat traumatic to have missed those special outings 🙁 Once again, goes to show the strength of your character 🙂 So glad you feel better getting that out there, Alexis.
One time our mother lined us all up and interrogated us about a missing tampon! We were all under 10 (this includes me, my sister and brother) and I had no idea what a tampon was or what it was used for 😛 But, one was missing and no one was moving until one of us confessed. I did not understand until many years later that the missing tampon meant another woman had possibly been in our house. Rather than believe that my mother confronted us in order to force a confession she could be comfortable with – that one of us had taken a tampon. Not sure how long we stood there now, but it was traumatic. We had no idea why she’d lost her sh*t that day. As an adult, it’s much easier to understand. And none of us took her tampon.
Jesus, the tampon story sounds very traumatic for you all. That’s nuts to be going so crazy over a tampon at all let alone to such young children. Are either of your siblings narcs at all? what about your dad?
I’m pretty sure now my dad was a narc as well, so I guess that added to the explosive element existing in our home. I’m only getting a handle on his possible narcissism after arriving here. It was my mother who had the biggest impact on me and while she singled me out as the scapegoat, he made me his ‘caretaker’. Or that’s what I became due to my empathic nature which he took advantage of in the circumstances. I may have more to add about him at some stage and HGs article “Trapped: The Car” brings up some traumatic memories for me. So I won’t go there right now.
As to my siblings, I honestly couldn’t tell you if they are narcs or not. I can tell you they are not empaths. I think they are normals and maybe bordering on the narcissistic due to my mother’s influence. She holds the cards in our family and always has when it comes to my relationships with my brother and sister. She has effectively put a wedge between us and engineered triangulations a plenty which is probably why I’m so reactive to them. Everything is underhand with her – much like your sister – and that makes it impossible to combat her manipulations. They remain hidden from ordinary sight. My brother and sister being normals either don’t see it or aren’t empathic enough to respond in my favour. It’s my problem. Or maybe like your situation, Alexis, I’m the problem. Mother is on a pedestal and can do no wrong. Even as adults she had them convinced.
.
Funny, I hadn’t thought of the tampon story since I was child until it came up with the narc in a conversation a few months ago. He was sharing about family infidelity and I inadvertently added to his armoury!
Your mother sounds awful lickem! And your father too but in a different way I guess. It’s really sad when siblings esp if non narcs are unable to be close with each other due to the manipulation of their parents. Honestly so very sad. I would be very interested to hear more as and when you’re ready. I don’t really feel any trauma or upset any more. I did for very many years but having found his site and now digested and learned from all his articles I feel completely and utterly healed. No hurt or confusion because it is all explainable. This is my wish for all empaths everywhere xx
Yes, the explainable part is a blessed relief, Alexis. Otherwise it’s so hard to understand and we keep taking it back to ourselves. I’ve been doing that for a lifetime and living in confusion and pain. Getting a handle on an element of “it’s not personal”, even though that feels very much the case, is a good place to start cutting those emotional ties. We share the same wish <3 xox
“HG has subsequently concluded that there is no such thing as a borderline”
On what basis?
Hey Emma, well I suspect that this is because they’re behaviour is incredibly similar to that of a Mid-Range narc.
Alexis wrote
“HG has subsequently concluded that there is no such thing as a borderline and that those suspected of being one are either mid range Ns or empaths who have been subjected to abuse and are suffering from the trauma of it.”
Dare I express this, I have no medical exam, but I have sometimes wondered this same line of thought, but of ADHD and ADD. I have wondered whether it can evolve in children who are neither narcissists themselves, nor empaths grown up being subject to narcissistic abuse.
That’s interesting AC and not something I’d thought of. I’d guess at genetics being hugely influential in ADD. I have it and so does one of my sons. No H though, well unless I’ve drunk too much coffee. Do you?
Alexis Smith wrote
“I have it and so does one of my sons. No H though, well unless I’ve drunk too much coffee. Do you?”
ADD? Well as a shy girl growing up (Type B Mid mother, father was an empath) maybe I could have had a diagnose like that at some point. Not unthinkable. But later my art creativity and musical stuffs sort of made me grow out of some shyness. An odd transformation, probably thanks to moving away from my parents.
I guess sometimes the “growing out of ADD/ADHD” really is an empath having moved out of the narcissist’s house?
What do you think AlexisSmith? Did your experience of ADD change as you got away from parents?
Ah no. It’s something I’ve had since o can remember, ADD thst is. I’d say it gets worse the older I get and I’ve been away from trauma for some time x so perhaps there is an environmental element for some people such as yourself. I’d like to learn more
Its HG approaching the victim in a bar and takes her home . He is of course a greater and seems to always get what he wants.