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

“I mean, according to her story, she was just being friendly to your boyfriend and you got jealous and decided to humiliate her. But if Alex is gay and you knew that, why would she have any reason to feel embarrassed about being friendly to him?”

I could hear the wheels turning in Rachel’s head.

“The only way her story makes sense,”

Rachel continued,

“is if she was doing something inappropriate that made the revelation embarrassing. Otherwise, finding out your daughter’s boyfriend is gay would just be funny, not humiliating.”

Other family members started asking the same questions. The more people thought about my mother’s version of events, the less sense it made.,

Why would I go through such an elaborate plan just to embarrass her if she’d done nothing wrong? Why would she be so upset about being tricked if her interactions with Alex had been completely innocent?

Why was she staying with Linda instead of just laughing off a harmless prank? Within a week, the family narrative started shifting.

People began asking my mother directly what she’d said and done that made Alex’s revelation so embarrassing. She couldn’t explain it without admitting to inappropriate behavior.

A New Life and Final Lessons

Meanwhile, I started dating again. His name was James and he was a lawyer I’d met through a friend at work.

I was completely honest with him about my family situation from the beginning and, to my surprise, he found the whole story more amusing than concerning.

“So your mother has been sabotaging your relationships and you got a gay actor to pretend to be your boyfriend to teach her a lesson?”

he said, over our third dinner date.

“That’s either the most brilliant thing I’ve ever heard or the most insane.”,

“Probably both.”

“I like it. It shows creativity and problem-solving skills.”

James was different from the guys I’d dated before. He was more confident, more established in his life, and less likely to be intimidated by family drama.

When I finally introduced him to my mother six months later, the dynamic was completely different. She tried her usual routine, but James shut it down immediately.

“Patricia, it’s so nice to meet Emma’s mother,”

he said, when she gave him one of her lingering hugs.

“Emma talks about you all the time.”

But when she started asking personal questions about his job and his family, James redirected every conversation back to me.

“Emma didn’t tell me she was interested in art history,”

he’d say, when my mother mentioned my college major.

“Tell me more about what drew you to that field, Emma.”

When my mother tried to monopolize his attention, James politely but firmly included me in every exchange.

“That’s such an interesting perspective, Patricia. Emma, what do you think about that?”

By the end of the evening, my mother looked frustrated and confused. Her usual tactics weren’t working, and James was making it clear that he was there to see me, not to be charmed by her.

After that dinner, she barely tried to interfere in our relationship. She’d still make the occasional comment about how James was fine or how she hoped I wasn’t getting too serious too quickly, but the aggressive flirting and inappropriate texting never materialized.

James and I got engaged two years later. When we announced it to my family, my mother’s response was telling.

“Well, I suppose he’s acceptable,”

she said.

“Though I still think you’re both very young to be making such a big decision.”

We were 27 and 31. But here’s the thing that still amazes me about this whole situation: my mother never actually acknowledged what she’d been doing to my previous relationships.

Even after everything that happened with Alex, even after the family confronted her about her inappropriate behavior, she never admitted that she’d been sabotaging my dating life.

In her mind, she’d been the victim of a cruel prank, not the perpetrator of years of emotional manipulation. And in a weird way, that was actually the perfect outcome.

Because my mother’s inability to see herself clearly was also what made Alex’s plan so effective. She was so focused on maintaining her victim narrative that she couldn’t risk behaving the same way with James.

If she started flirting with another one of my boyfriends, it would undermine her story about being the wronged party in the Alex situation. Her own narcissism had trapped her into better behavior.

The wedding planning was its own adventure. My mother tried to take over several aspects of the event, suggesting we needed a bigger venue, a more expensive photographer, and flowers that would be more photogenic.

But James had opinions about everything, and he wasn’t shy about expressing them.

“Patricia, I appreciate your input, but Emma and I have already decided on the menu,”

he’d say when she suggested changing the catering.,

“Or, that’s an interesting idea, but we’re happy with our photographer.”

She couldn’t flirt her way into getting what she wanted, and she couldn’t manipulate James the way she’d manipulated my previous boyfriends. For the first time in my adult life, I had a partner who was completely immune to my mother’s tactics.

The wedding itself was beautiful. My mother behaved appropriately, though she did manage to wear a dress that was arguably too attention-grabbing for a mother of the bride.

James’ family loved me. My friends were happy to finally meet the guy I’d been raving about, and even my extended family seemed relieved to see me with someone who clearly adored me.

During the reception, my mother gave a speech that was actually sweet and appropriate. She talked about how proud she was of me, how happy she was to see me with someone who appreciated me, and how she looked forward to welcoming James into the family.

For a moment, I thought maybe she’d finally changed. Then, during the bouquet toss, she positioned herself right in the middle of all the single women and caught my flowers.,

“Looks like I’m next!”

she announced to the crowd, winking at James’ unmarried brother.

Some things never change. But here’s what I learned from this whole experience: you can’t fix a narcissistic parent by confronting them directly.

They’ll just rewrite the story to make themselves the victim. You can’t change them by being a better daughter or by finding the right words to make them understand how their behavior affects you.

What you can do is protect yourself by choosing partners who won’t fall for their manipulation and by creating boundaries that keep their dysfunction from destroying your happiness.

Alex’s fake boyfriend plan didn’t cure my mother of her narcissism, but it did show her that her usual tactics wouldn’t work on everyone, and it forced her to modify her behavior just enough for me to have a normal relationship.

That’s probably the best outcome I could have hoped for. James and I have been married for three years now.,

We have a one-year-old daughter named Sophie, and my mother is absolutely obsessed with being a grandmother. She babysits twice a week, buys Sophie more clothes than any baby could possibly need, and posts constant photos of them together on social media.

Sometimes I catch her looking at James like she’s still calculating whether she could steal his attention if she really tried. But then Sophie will do something cute and my mother will be completely distracted by the opportunity to be the center of a baby’s world.

I think grandchildren might be the perfect solution for narcissistic mothers. They get unconditional adoration from someone who’s too young to see through their manipulation, and they get to feel important and needed without having to compete with their adult children.

As for Alex, he and Marcus got married last year. I was a bridesmaid in their wedding, and my mother was invited as my guest.

She spent the entire reception trying to set up Alex’s single friends with women she knew, apparently having completely forgotten that the reason we’d met was because he was gay.,

“Emma, you should introduce that nice tall one to your cousin Jennifer,”

she whispered during the cocktail hour.

“He seems like he’d be perfect for her.”

“Mom, they’re all gay. It’s a gay wedding.”

“Well, you never know. Sometimes people experiment.”

I just laughed. After everything we’d been through, my mother was still my mother.

Still beautiful, still charming, still completely unable to see the world from anyone’s perspective but her own. But she was also no longer able to destroy my relationships.

And that was enough. The most important thing I learned from this whole experience is that you don’t have to fix your family to be happy.

You just have to figure out how to protect yourself from their worst impulses while still maintaining whatever relationship is possible. My mother will probably always be a narcissist.

She’ll probably always need to be the center of attention and always struggle with the idea that other people have needs and feelings that matter as much as hers do.,

But she’ll also probably always be my mother. And despite everything, I do love her.

I just love myself enough now to not let her destroy my happiness in the process. And sometimes that’s the most you can ask for from a complicated family relationship.

The fake boyfriend plan worked not because it changed my mother, but because it changed me. It taught me that I could take control of situations that felt hopeless.

That I could protect myself without completely cutting ties, and that sometimes the best revenge is simply refusing to be a victim.

My mother still doesn’t think she did anything wrong with my previous boyfriends. She still believes her version of the Alex story, where she was the innocent victim of a cruel daughter’s jealousy.

But she also knows that her usual tactics don’t work on James, and she’s seen what happens when she pushes too far. That’s probably as close to a happy ending as our relationship is ever going to get, and honestly, I’m okay with that.,