Never Enough

“Maybe it says, ‘Thank you.’”

My therapist, Dave, shut his eyes and gently shook his head before giving me his full attention again. I was explaining to him how my narcissistic ex/co-parent had inquired about guests we recently hosted. And how I had initially responded vaguely — and succinctly — something I’ve learned to do over the years to avoid becoming entangled in messy, pointless “discussions.”

My first response wasn’t sufficient.

My ex emailed again, begging me to “put the past behind us” and provide more details. Wouldn’t that be convenient. As I shared this with Dave, I could feel my heart beat faster. My ex was asking me to quiet myself and — like I had many times before — attend to him. And you know what? I fucking did. I gave him a few details, hoping that would be sufficient.

It wasn’t. And I should’ve known it wouldn’t be. A few weeks ago, when talking about the immense anxiety I feel every time I get a notification that my ex has emailed, Dave said something powerful to me: “Nothing you say will satisfy him. So I want to free you of that responsibility.” I know it’s true, but I haven’t truly, deeply, fully pulled that message into my core just yet. And so, I believed that maybe my email sharing a few details would be enough, and that my ex’s response to that email would be, “Thank you.”

Dave was right. My ex’s response asked me to share even more details.

Feeling empowered after my therapy session, I was ready to make an attempt at extinguishing my ex’s continual demand for more details. I pointed out that while I understood his concerns, his behavior seemed at odds with the narrative he was feeding me — the narrative he was using to justify his demands for more details.

Never question a narcissist’s reality. What followed was a word salad filled with anger… and a heavy dose of gaslighting: “I admittedly feel offended, frustrated, and hurt by your outburst.” I responded with a two-sentence email. Predictably, I received another lengthy email telling me how irresponsible I am. I have not responded to it, nor do I intend to.

The worst part of this is that my older son will inevitably be put in the middle as a result of this. My refusal to share details means HE will now be the victim of his dad’s interrogation. Until recently, I would have blamed myself for not meeting my ex’s demands. And I would have — in vain — tried to appease my ex to an extent so that this, abuse really, might not happen.

It took me years to finally free myself of the false narrative my ex fed to me. One where I was a horrible mother, incapable of caring for her child. I actually believed that bullshit. Now I can see the many contradictions in his narrative. And that what it comes down to is you can never be enough for a narcissist.

It didn’t matter that for two years, I battled postpartum depression. And for most of that time I worked full time, wrote my dissertation after my infant son was in bed, and worked part time (to pay for day care). I woke up every day at 2am to drive my ex to the yoga studio where he taught so he could practice before teaching (because he didn’t want to practice at home and we had one car)… only to come home, and wake up again at 6am to take my son to daycare before my daily yoga practice and going to work. When this daily schedule became too much for me, my ex took the car himself, and I would take the bus with my son to daycare/yoga/work. I still remember the tantrum my ex had when I suggested he practice at home, or perhaps ride a bike to the yoga studio. The bus was often crowded in the mornings, which made commuting with a toddler challenging at times. It wasn’t enough that toward the end of this period, my father was in and out of the hospital, dying from cancer. It wasn’t enough that I also left my cancer research career so he could teach yoga.

I realized in session that all of this comes up whenever my ex emails me — especially when he’s asking me for something. Because I’ve never really allowed myself to feel the hurt and anger that resulted from that whole experience. I’ve conditioned myself to push those kinds of feelings away. So it is ESPECIALLY distressing when he asks me to “put the past behind us” and attend to his needs. To this day he is still asking me to put his needs first. And this single email string proves that even when I do that, it is still. Not. Enough.