We had an unexpected delay getting home. Weather in Dallas meant a two-day delay, so we’ve been playing catch-up. So for today, you get a three-for-one using Julie Ebersole’s set Shells and the coordinating dies.
I adore this set. Julie is a genius, and the sizes of these shells are perfect for clean and simple cards. The pink card uses a very subtle splatter of ink for the background, and is highlighted with dew drops. The teal card’s background uses a Tim Holtz 3D embossing folder and rhinestones for accents. The purple and taupe card uses a coral stamp from Hero Arts.
Do you have a favorite? I don’t.
It’s just so much fun to vary colors and designs with a single stamp set, and particularly enjoyable to mix and match sets as needed. Thank goodness for a healthy stash of supplies!
Mercy, grace, peace, and love,
Susan
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Personal stuff and life advice!
My father, a full-blown grandiose narcissist, disowned me when I was 19. The no-contact allowed me to get help and begin healing from a childhood of mental, emotional, and (early in life) physical abuse. I’m writing more about this experience in private ways right now (he died in February), but I do want to share a bit here so those of you who are fortunate enough to have two healthy parents might have better tools for helping friends who have experienced a narcissistic parent.
First, when a person tells you they have gone no-contact with a parent, do NOT trot out Bible verses about honoring your father and mother. Do NOT tell them they only get two parents and they need to take care of them. Do NOT blame the victim.
Instead, say something like, “This must be really hard for you. I’m here to listen if you need to talk.” Then, listen. Validate the person’s feelings (“I can understand how you would feel that way.”). Know that narcissistic abuse is like death by a thousand cuts…it’s constant, subtle, and relentlessly destructive to the victim.
And when that parent dies, the feelings an adult child has can be…complex. Again, listen. The feelings may go all over the place in a chaotic imitation of their childhood abuse. Or they may have reached a point in healing where they’ve processed and (mostly) healed. Or they may be somewhere in between.
Do NOT tell them they should attend the memorial service. Do NOT tell them they need to “pay respects” to their abuser. Do NOT expect them to help write an obituary.
Narcissistic abuse is insidious. Mostly, it’s invisible outside the home. I’ve listened my whole life to people tell me what a great man my father was, how generous he was, how kind, how supportive. That was not my experience…or my sister’s or mother’s experience either. We kept the secrets, we protected his image, and we suffered for his ego.
The morning after he was found dead in a hotel room (heart failure at age 83), I spoke to the coroner. He asked me, delicately, if I knew why my father had a bullet-proof vest and four guns in his hotel room. I replied, “I have no idea, but I’m not surprised. He was paranoid, a conspiracy theorist, and a gun nut.”
THAT sentence was the truth. And it felt amazing to utter it matter-of-factly. The truth DOES set you free. To then hear someone tell me a few weeks later that I needed to “pay my respects” to my abuser was upsetting to say the least, and then to have that same person bully me to help write the obituary was even more upsetting. I joked it off, saying he could put my name in it only if he worded “is survived by” as “Survivors are….” But seriously, dude. Your wife just told you not to mention the obituary to me, and you’re asking me to help you write it? WTF.
Don’t add to the suffering of an adult child of a narcissistic parent or spouse of a narcissist. If you can’t understand what they’ve been through, listen with an open heart and no judgment. Then thank God for your healthy parents and spouse.
Because it was hell, I assure you. And no one, absolutely no one, deserves that.
