Partners of Narcissists: You'll Never Regret Prioritizing Your Children

Pan Playing Flute by J. Jordaens

See that guy under the fig tree playing a flute? He can't grow up the way you think he will. In twenty years time, he'll be cheating on you with a goat. You'll wonder why you didn't notice his hooves. Maybe because you made him wear pants in the daylight? You're such a prude, he tells the goats.

Family stories make me feel better about my struggle to do the right thing. Partnering with a narcissist was hard. People don't understand what you've been through when they criticize you for staying, for having children, for being naive. Even your ex says how messed up you were because obviously, you stuck around. He says no one else in the whole galaxy woulda put up with you for so long. He says how well you were treated considering your deficiencies and ineptitude, your lack of gratitude. Always between a rock and a hard place, partners of narcissists make the best of limited choices, a perpetual tug-of-war between a narcissistic spouse and the children. What I have learned this past decade is that you will never regret prioritizing your children; which might include (depending on your physical safety) the decision to stay.

It's hard being married to a narcissist
It can be even harder admitting you were 

You'd gone about your life fairly normally, following rules, keeping commitments, expecting your marriage to work out in the end. No marriage was perfect, you told yourself. You can count at least three long-term marriages held together with scotch-tape and promises, becoming contented and loving in old age. Grateful they stayed together. Grateful families saw them through the tough times. Grateful they were spending holidays with their own grandchildren, not someone else's. You hang in there because this is what you've seen and that is what you believe your story will be, too.

When I started reading about narcissistic relationships, I wanted to believe everything an expert told me. I force-fit myself into pathological boxes. I defined myself as a complete mess since I felt like a complete mess. When you're reeling from infidelity and financial losses beyond recuperation, your sense of self will be blown to shit smithereens. If a psychologist says you fear abandonment, you'll believe it. If a book says you love too much, you'll believe it. You aren't sure who you are---or who you were because your ego has been shattered and your heart is on the ground. If an expert says codependency is why you married a puerile Pan, well----you have no filter of reason. An authority figure could say you were serial killer and you'd believe it. Okay maybe not but you'd fact-check the basement making sure you didn't do something you don't remember. 

Zelfportret als Faun by Johfra

It's been over a decade since being subjected to pop-psych explanations taking an additional chunk out of my self-esteem. Other partners of narcissists have written similar miserable narratives which means my experience is not unique. Partners of narcissists are perceived to be collusive and/or crazy. If we insist our partner is narcissistic because we're smart enough to read the DSM, people suggest we point our labeling fingers back at ourselves. They'd never be so naive as to marry a narcissist and godforbid they'd be arrogant enough to diagnose one! And then you see them in Costco being harangued by their spouse and you thank GOD you don't have to lie to yourself anymore.

The only thing casting me as a pathology suspect was my husband's behavior. People thought I was a goodly woman until my husband proved he was a badly man and then they looked at me skeptically. "Well," one guy said when he heard my husband was having an affair, "You seem like a nice lady but who knows what you're really like behind closed doors?"

I've come full circle back to myself which took much longer than expected, that's how traumatic sudden endings can be. At this point, I am able to see that my family-of-origin was a dress rehearsal for my marriage. As a child and adult, I soothed my family's feelings, off-set sadness and anxiety with light-heartedness, tried to make up for emotional deficits in fathers and husbands, worked doubly hard undoing the damage done. Those are character strengths, not deficits. Be cautious diagnosing yourself too soon in your recovery and don't pathologize behaviors that are cherished by healthy, loving people.

"You act like you're my mother!"

 he whines

A certain amount of crazy is normal to every family I suspected then and even now, the line between acceptable or not depending on the people involved. What one family considers to be normal, another considers bizarre. When a narcissist marries a woman who's not, there's sure to be crazy. There's sure to be bizarre. When a narcissist marries a woman who's not, she'll prioritize the children, not him. When a narcissist marries a woman who's not, he'll accuse her of acting like his mother. Not because she is acting like his mother, but because he sees himself as Peter Pan. She worries the marriage won't survive the most recent crisis (infidelity) and makes an appointment with a marriage counselor. Peter complains he's married to his Mom and what does the therapist say? "Stop acting like his mother and read this book about adventurous sex with M&M's." 

Nymphs and Satyr by William Adolf Bouguereau

NOTE: I've never yet met a goodly woman who successfully competed with Tinkerbell so be kind to yourself. The problem is NOT you. The problem is Peter Pan and a sexist society valuing above all we declare to be holy and sacred about family: Peter's peter's happiness. 

Consider his insult to be a compliment. You Grew Up. You Took Responsibility. Your Priorities were in Order. You Were Willing to do the right thing and Displease Peter. And you knew and rightly so, that Chocolate Gods created M&Ms to melt in your mouth, not your...

About Right Action 

I never determined right action from a spread sheet, a pro-and-con list, a religious book; it was innate. Knowing the right thing to do made my children's lives easier and it was intuitive. That didn't mean doing the right thing made my life easier (!) but not having an egocentric focus drew and kept my children close. They trusted me to be there for them, to restore the peace, to listen. And to make donuts. Never underestimate the bonding power of donuts stacked two dozen-deep on a broom handle.

Making Light in Heavy Moments

We had decided as a family, to see a movie at our local theater. My children were about five and eight years old, as best I can remember. As the hour drew near, we reminded their Dad what time it was and asked him to stop what he was doing. We needed to leave or we'd be late. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. He had changed his mind. "I'd rather sit and think," he said.

The look on my children's faces...well...it crushed my heart seeing their disappointment because they instinctively realized their father preferred studying scriptures to being with his family. I couldn't stand it. I hated that he would disappoint them that way. My first instinct was not to cajole him into going with us. If he didn't want to go, okay then. Don't go. I didn't have any desire to yell at him either, or threaten him. Why engage in an argument when the movie started in ten minutes? If he and I were bickering, our kids would miss the film they'd looked forward to all week and then they'd witness what was sure to be a terrifying example of my insanity. Summing up the situation quickly, I decided to ease the tension and my children's disappointment by saying something silly. "Hey kids," I said. "Dad wants to sit n' stink!"

Italian School_Pan with Pipes

Sit n' Stink! The kids held their tummies laughing, oblivious to their father's glare searing burn holes in my flesh. They skipped to the car like happy wabbits and a good time was had by all. Whether the stinker had a good time or not, we didn't ask. Do we remember the name of the film we watched that day? No. But "Sit n' Stink" has become a family mantra. It serves as a reminder to pull our heads out of our asses and carry both body parts into our lives. It reminds us that heaven is already at our feet if we'll stop looking for a private invitation. 

Partners of narcissists work doubly hard undoing damage done by a narcissistic spouse. We can take pride in our efforts to make our children's lives better---often at the expense of our own personal satisfaction. People stay in difficult marriages for good and sane reasons and sometimes it's the "right thing to do" even in a wrong situation. I do not regret staying in my marriage and trying to make things work for three decades. Our marriage ended but not without me giving it everything I could and then some. Today, my children tell me how much they appreciate my ability to make them feel loved and safe, allowing us to live as long as we could as an intact family. I am sure other partners-of-narcissists have done an even better job than myself and certainly under more brutal conditions than my marriage ever was. The narcissistic marriage is lonely for the most part, usually traumatic at the end. The majority of the time, it's simply hard work.  It's may be the hardest thing you'll ever do. Appreciate yourself for the incredibly difficult thing you did and might still be doing. Stop focusing on your mistakes and failures looming pathological in hindsight. Time and distance will create a more realistic perspective than judging yourself too soon in the aftermath of trauma and abuse. 

Pay attention to the brilliant things you were able to do, such as "making light in heavy moments." It doesn't matter how trivial the intervention, your children will know you care; that they are treasured. They will know their fun is equally important to the fun adults might prefer. They'll also learn that family is an action, not a possession. That love is an action, not a feeling.

Funny how this incident predicted our future twenty years later, isn't it? We are still a family, even without him, which is why I can say to other partners of narcissists: You Will Never Regret Prioritizing Your Children. You will regret prioritizing Peter.

Hugs,

CZ