My Narcissistic Mother Hits On All Of My Boyfriends As She Thinks I Don’t Deserve Them

“Marcus is going to love hearing about this. When do we start?”

We met for coffee the next weekend to plan everything out. Alex was even more attractive than he’d been in college, and he had this confident energy that I knew would drive my mother crazy.

“So what’s the goal here?”

he asked.

“Are we trying to make her back off, or are we going full revenge mode?”

“I just want her to leave my actual relationships alone,”

I said.

“If she’s focused on you, maybe she’ll stop sabotaging my real dating life.”

“Got it. So I need to be charming enough to get her attention but unavailable enough to frustrate her.”

The Performance and the Breaking Point

Exactly. We worked out our backstory: we’d been reconnected through mutual friends, had been dating for two months, and things were getting serious.

Alex would be attentive but not overly affectionate, successful but not flashy, and interested in her opinion but not seeking her approval.

“The key,”

Alex said,

“is to make her feel like she’s in competition with you. Like I might choose her if she plays her cards right.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“It is terrible, but it’s also exactly how her brain works, right? She can’t stand the idea that you have something she can’t have.”

Two weeks later, I brought Alex home for dinner. My mother answered the door in a dress I’d never seen before, her hair and makeup absolutely perfect.

She took one look at Alex and I could practically see her pupils dilate.

“You must be Alex,”

she said, extending her hand like she expected him to kiss it.

“Emma has told me so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope,”

Alex said, giving her that million-dollar smile.

“And you must be Patricia. Emma definitely didn’t mention how beautiful her mother is.”,

I watched my mother practically melt. She giggled like a teenager and ushered us into the living room, immediately launching into hostess mode.

Over dinner, Alex was absolutely masterful. He asked my mother about her modeling career, complimented her cooking, and listened intently to her stories about the fascinating people she’d met over the years.

But he also kept one hand on my knee under the table and made sure to include me in every conversation.

“Emma’s so lucky to have such an interesting mother,”

he said.

“I can see where she gets her confidence from.”

My mother was practically glowing.

“Oh, Emma’s always been so shy. I keep telling her she needs to put herself out there more.”

“I think Emma’s perfect exactly as she is,”

Alex said, squeezing my hand.

“But I’d love to hear more about your modeling days. That must have been such an adventure.”

For the next hour, my mother regaled us with stories I’d heard a thousand times. Alex laughed at all the right moments, asked follow-up questions, and made her feel like the most interesting person in the world.,

After dinner, while I was loading the dishwasher, I could hear them talking in the living room. Alex was asking about her workout routine and skincare regimen, telling her she looked at least 10 years younger than her age.

“Emma is so lucky to have someone who appreciates quality,”

my mother said.

“I definitely appreciate quality,”

Alex replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

When we left that night, my mother hugged Alex goodbye and told him he was welcome anytime.

“She likes you,”

I said as we drove away.

“Oh, she more than likes me. Did you see her face when I complimented her dress? She’s already planning our affair.”

“That’s disgusting. That’s your mother.”

Over the next few weeks, Alex’s plan worked perfectly. My mother started texting him within days of that first dinner.

There were innocent messages at first, asking how work was going and sharing articles she thought he might find interesting. Alex showed me every message and carefully crafted his responses to keep her interested but not quite satisfied.,

He was friendly but not flirty, appreciative but not pursuing. Meanwhile, my mother started treating me differently.

She was nicer to me when Alex was around, almost like she was trying to prove what a wonderful mother she was. She stopped making little digs about my appearance or my job, and she actually seemed to listen when I talked.

“She’s performing for him,”

Alex explained.

“She wants him to see her as this amazing, supportive mother so he’ll think she’s relationship material.”

It was working so well that I almost forgot the whole thing was fake. Then, my mother escalated.

She started finding excuses to drop by my apartment when she knew Alex would be there. She’d bring groceries I hadn’t asked for or claim she was in the neighborhood and wanted to say hi.

Always dressed to the nines. Always with some small gift or treat for Alex.

“Your mother brought me homemade cookies,”

Alex told me after one of her surprise visits.,

“She stayed for two hours talking about how worried she is that you’re not eating enough.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her I’m making sure you’re well taken care of. That seemed to frustrate her.”

The breaking point came six weeks into our fake relationship. My mother called me on a Tuesday afternoon, crying.

“Emma, I need to tell you something,”

she sobbed into the phone.

“I think I’m falling in love with Alex.”

My stomach dropped.

“Mom, what are you talking about?”

“I know it’s wrong. I know he’s your boyfriend, but I can’t help how I feel. He’s just so wonderful, and he really understands me in a way that most men don’t.”

“Mom, you’ve known him for six weeks.”

“Sometimes that’s all it takes. Look, I don’t want to hurt you, but I think Alex might have feelings for me too. The way he looks at me, the things he says… I think he’s just staying with you because he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

I was quiet for so long that she asked if I was still there.

“I’m here,”

I said finally.

“Maybe we should all sit down and talk about this like adults,”

she continued.

“I think if we’re honest about our feelings, we can figure out what’s best for everyone.”

That night, I called Alex and told him what had happened.

“She wants to have a conversation about feelings,”

he said.

“Oh, this is perfect. Perfect.”

“Alex, this is nightmare territory. She’s completely lost her mind.”

“No, this is exactly what we wanted. She’s so obsessed with the idea of stealing your boyfriend that she’s willing to blow up your relationship to get him. Now we can show her exactly how it feels.”

“What do you mean?”

“Trust me. Set up that conversation this weekend at your place. Tell her we’ll all discuss the situation honestly.”

I didn’t like the look in Alex’s eyes, but I was too deep into this mess to back out now. Saturday evening, my mother arrived at my apartment dressed like she was going to a red carpet event.

She wore a tight black dress, full makeup, and her hair was styled in perfect waves. She brought a bottle of expensive wine and a nervous energy that filled the entire room.

Alex had arrived an hour earlier and we’d spent the time going over his plan. I still wasn’t sure about it, but I trusted him to handle the situation.

“Patricia,”

Alex said, standing to give her a hug when she walked in.

“You look absolutely stunning.”

My mother practically purred.

“Thank you, Alex. You look pretty handsome yourself.”

We sat in the living room, the three of us forming an awkward triangle on my couch and chairs. My mother kept glancing between Alex and me like she was trying to read the room.

“So,”

she said finally.

“I think we all know why we’re here.”

“We do,”

Alex agreed.

“And I want you to know how much I appreciate your honesty, Patricia. It takes courage to admit your feelings.”

My mother’s face lit up.