The Emotionally Absent Mother in Times of Crisis

Many daughters never realize their mothers are emotionally absent until faced with a major crisis in their lives—a cancer diagnosis, a divorce, the death of a child—and their moms don't show up in any supportive way. It's this life-changing event that makes a woman stop and look at her mom in cold, hard truth. She's no longer able to overlook or explain away her mom's profound lack of emotion and empathy. While she's always suspected something was missing within her mom, she never knew for certain until that moment.

Many women have opened up to me through the years about when they finally determined their mother was emotionally absent. While many suspected for years (and even decades), it took a major crisis for them to finally see the reality. It's hard at first but eventually it leads to acceptance and understanding.

The crisis in my life that convinced me my mom was emotionally absent happened when my son got diagnosed with autism. Her reaction was one of anger, not sadness about her grandson's condition or compassion for the pain I was enduring. Her fury was unexpected and jarring and made me look back at her pattern of reacting with aggravation and avoidance at emotionally-charged situations. Whether it was my father's death, my sister's divorce, or my own teenage battles with depression, she had always gotten furious and frustrated. It became crystal clear to me that I had been expecting her to give something that she just didn't have. I wanted her to be that wise, loving, and empathetic maternal archetype I knew from TV and movies, but she didn't have it in her.

Unfortunately, many younger women have not reached the point of realizing and accepting their mom's emotional limitations. I was recently talking with my hairdresser, Kelsey, who had been in a terrible motorcycle accident the month prior. She was riding on the back of her boyfriend's bike when an SUV turned right in front of him. He crashed into the car and Kelsey went flying over it, landing on the street and skidding for 30 feet. She was left with a concussion, bruises up and down her body, a broken rib, and an achy back and shoulders.

As Kelsey detailed her mother's reaction (or lack of reaction) to the accident, it sounded all too familiar. I knew she was describing an emotionally absent mom. It was also obvious that Kelsey was far more hurt by her mom's lack of love and support during this time than any of her many injuries. Two weeks after the accident, her mother called Kelsey to ask why she wasn't at the apartment to help her move. Kelsey was taken aback and reminded her mom she was on bed rest ordered by the doctor. She wasn't supposed to drive and, most certainly, shouldn't be lifting heavy boxes. Her mom acted like this was all news to her even though Kelsey had already explained it. Then her mom told her how disappointed she was and abruptly hung up.

For Kelsey, this was the beginning point of understanding her mother's emotional shallowness. While extremely painful, it will eventually lead to acceptance and peace. Accepting that reality is inevitable and important and leads to a better life for us daughters of emotionally absent mothers.

Here's the book that began my healing:

The Emotionally Absent Mother and Narcissism

Many of our emotionally absent mother are narcissists to one degree or another. Current research shows that narcissism is not a black or white thing like we once believed but rather something that exists on a spectrum from mild to extreme and everything in between. I now clearly see that my mother falls somewhere in the middle of the continuum and this contributes greatly to her inability to connect with her kids and grand-kids. Here are three traits of a narcissist that my mom exhibits and your emotionally absent mother may as well.

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1. Craves Narcissistic Supply From Strangers, Not Family

Narcissistic supply is the term used to describe the approval, attention, and admiration that pump up a narcissist's ego. While some narcissists search for this adulation from those in their inner circle (spouse, children, parents, co-workers), others such as my mom seek it from complete strangers. Wanting the stamp of approval from people she doesn't know is something I've noticed about my mother since I was a little girl. But it was only when I reached adulthood that I understood it was part of her narcissism. As a kid, I internalized it. I thought I was boring and unworthy while others were far more interesting and deserving. This led to feelings of shame and self-loathing that I still struggle with today.

A good example of my mom craving narcissistic supply from strangers occurs when my family goes out to eat with her. Without fail, she'll immediately scan the restaurant looking for someone to interact with while ignoring the rest of us at the table. She'll catch someone's eye, smile at them, and continue to stare, eventually getting up and walking over to where they are and starting a conversation. She'll lay on the compliments: “You two make such a cute couple...Your children are so well-mannered...You're such a beautiful family.” She's beyond thrilled when the diners give her compliments in return, eating up every word like a dog gobbling up its kibble.

Her reaction to compliments from strangers is completely different from most of us who don't take them too seriously. If someone we don't know likes our outfit or lauds our ability to tell a joke, it makes us feel good for a minute or two but that's it. A narcissistic such as my mother, though, takes these throw-away comments to heart. She thinks about them for days to come, repeating them to family and friends and ruminating about their deep significance. She feels validated by the words of strangers as if they these people appreciate how truly amazing she is.

 2. Enthralled With Her Own Life Story

When we're teenagers, most of us are self-focused. We think about our friends, dates, social lives, grades, and appearance. But, as we grow older and mature, we begin to look outward and realize that everyone has a unique life story that shapes who they are. We look at a homeless person on the street, for instance, and think: I wonder what events transpired in her life that made her end up here – alcoholism? depression? divorce? mental illness? If we're decent, compassionate individuals, we don't dismiss this person with a comment such as: ”What a loser! I'd never let that happen to me!”

Narcissists, however, often never evolve to the point where they appreciate that every individual has her own powerful life story. They're still stuck in an adolescent mindset with the world revolving around them. Their life story is the only one that matters. It's compelling beyond belief while everybody else has a mundane tale to tell.

My mom grew up with an alcoholic mother who abandoned her. Even though she's now in her late seventies, this story still defines every day of her life. When my siblings and I were kids, she never had compassion for our problems. In her mind, our lives were perfect because we had a mom at home. She thought that was sufficient, regardless of whether she was emotionally available to us or not.

Many Narcissists Are Enthralled With Their Own Life Story

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3. Lacks Empathy

A lack of empathy is one of the characteristics of a narcissist listed in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorder. How I wish someone had explained this to me when I was a kid! Instead, I wasted so much time and energy during my childhood (and early adulthood) trying to get my mom to care about my pain, but she never could. My suffering as a teenager – severe depression and social anxiety – didn't mean a thing to her. She found it mildly annoying because it made her look like a bad parent, but not enough to take me to a doctor for treatment.

At an early age, I played the role of therapist to my mother because it was the only way to get her attention. I listened and advised her about her marital problems with my father even though I was a kid and had no experience in that arena. When I became a parent myself and had a child with autism, I finally saw how cold and indifferent my mother was. She couldn't relate to my suffering mother-to-mother. If I expressed sadness about my son's condition, she'd get angry at me. I now understand that I was asking her to give me something – empathy – that wasn't inside of her. She got frustrated because she didn't know how to relate to me on an emotional level.

Now I understand my mom's limitations and never expect any close bond with her. Our relationship is superficial because that's all she can manage and I get it. If I want more than that, I turn to my husband, mother-in-law, and close friends. If a pond is shallow, I wouldn't dive into it. The same can be said for a narcissistic mother.

                    Feeling Invisible : How Emotionally Absent Mothers
                                Fail to Mirror Their Daughters

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Emotionally absent mothers don't see their daughters as they are. Daughters grow up feeling invisible, and misunderstood, and confused about their identities.

For most kids growing up, their mothers act as a mirror – reflecting who they are in a positive way that builds their self-esteem. If a child is a bookworm, her mother might say: “You're so calm and thoughtful. You enjoy reading a good novel and pondering its meaning.” If a youngster is on a swim team, her mom might comment: “You really put in the effort to perfect your strokes. You're not the fastest, but you always have great form and it serves you well.” It feels great to be seen for who you are. But for daughters of emotionally absent mothers, this mirroring often doesn't happen, leaving them feeling invisible within their families and confused about their identities.

Without that feedback from a loving, perceptive adult, many of us daughters grow up not knowing who we are. I, for example, never understood that I was an introvert. I just knew that I was different from my peers – not liking crowds, noisy places, and group activities. I felt like an outcast most of my life, thinking there was something seriously wrong with me. This became most pronounced during my high school where I lacked the social skills to make friends and become part of a social group.

My mother, preoccupied with herself and not in tune with me, never saw that I was struggling. She only saw me as she wanted me to be – bubbly, chatty, and vivaciousness (the exact opposite of who I was). Throughout high school, I suffered from severe anxiety and depression. No one saw my pain and no one reached out to help. Because of that experience, I still have trouble even today trusting people and believing that they want the best for me.

Not understanding who I was created problems well into adulthood. I chose a career – teaching – that was ill-suited for me as an introvert and made my life miserable. Going to work every day - literally surrounded by kids - was draining and unsatisfying. I didn't like teaching and didn't think I was good at it. That made my self-loathing get even deeper.

Fortunately, as an adult, I chose well when it came to a life partner. I picked a man who sees me. My husband understands my introversion. He not only accepts it but loves me for it. He doesn't want me to be anyone different than I am. He doesn't deny the parts of me that are less than perfect. His love and acceptance has gone a long way to helping me love and accept myself. But, because of the lack of mirroring during childhood, I will probably always struggle with liking myself.