Most of Kathleen Saxton’s clients only become aware of being raised by a narcissistic parent later in life. Saxton, a psychotherapist, mentions that the realization often comes during the start of a new relationship, meeting their partner’s family, and recognizing the differences from their own upbringing. “Or they may have families and think, ‘I would never treat my children that way.’ Sometimes it takes us until our 30s or 40s to understand that something was wrong.” Her oldest client is in their 70s and has “finally acknowledged having a narcissistic mother, who is still living, and how it impacted them throughout their lives.”
Saxton is optimistic that her latest book, My Parent the Peacock, will assist individuals in identifying and healing from a narcissistic parent. They might have been raised in a controlling environment where love was conditional, gaslighting was routine, and they faced frequent blame, belittlement, and criticism. The needs of their parents took precedence over their own, and their mother or father engaged in emotional exploitation. The repercussions of these experiences might extend into adulthood.
The term “narcissist” is frequently employed, especially on social media, as a broad insult or to describe selfish behavior, but this “diminishes the reality of someone with genuine narcissistic personality disorder [NPD],” explains Saxton. “The challenge is that those who genuinely require assistance in dealing with one likely don’t receive it, as people often roll their eyes when one states, ‘I suspect my partner, parent, boss, etc., is narcissistic.’”
Saxton practices in London and New York. She became a psychotherapist following a lengthy and prosperous career in corporate life, yet her fascination with narcissism stems from personal experiences: for several years, she was close to an individual she suspects had NPD (though they were never diagnosed). “I turned into a shadow of my former self,” she shares regarding the relationship’s influence, which took her two years to overcome. Over the past decade, Saxton has noticed an uptick in clients questioning whether their struggles could be attributed to growing up with a narcissistic parent.
Many people, if they take a moment to think, exhibit narcissistic qualities such as self-centeredness, embellishing their accomplishments, or showing a lack of empathy. What distinguishes a narcissist from, for lack of a better term, a jerk? Saxton chuckles. “I would hope that even those who might act like jerks possess some degree of conscience. They might realize that their actions are not ideal. Many individuals who act poorly or recognize that they’ve mistreated others gradually come to terms with the fact that it was cruel or exceedingly selfish. Narcissists do not reflect on their behavior.”
It’s challenging to determine how many individuals actually have NPD, as they rarely perceive anything wrong and thus do not seek a diagnosis, according to Saxton. “It would feel offensive to them. The diagnosis statistics we obtain typically arise from the criminal justice system or social services,” where individuals undergo psychiatric evaluations. In her book, Saxton estimates that 10-15% of the global population may exhibit moderate to high levels of narcissistic traits. On the lower end, this might include interrupting others, seeking praise, or redirecting conversations back to themselves. Higher levels might involve sabotaging or intentionally undermining others. Those with traits profound enough to qualify for a diagnosis of narcissistic personality disorder are estimated to encompass between 0.8% and 6.2% of the population. “That’s a significant gap,” Saxton remarks. She believes NPD might be present in approximately 2-3% of individuals in the UK. “However, that still amounts to a considerable number of individuals living with a disorder,” she adds. “And currently, we don’t think there’s a cure, which is deeply unsatisfactory, both as a therapist and as a fellow human.”
The DSM, an influential American psychiatric diagnostic guide, first included NPD in its third edition in 1980 and currently lists nine criteria, of which a minimum of five must be met for a diagnosis. (The latest International Classification of Diseases (ICD) manual from the World Health Organization, used globally including the UK, has a “dimensional” classification for personality disorders and does not section NPD as a specific diagnosis.) The DSM’s criteria comprise a sense of grandiosity or feeling “special”, entitlement, exploitative conduct, and a lack of empathy. “If you engage with someone who has narcissistic personality disorder, you would certainly recognize something is amiss,” states Saxton. A larger segment may not fulfill the criteria yet may be described as having a “narcissistic personality,” she explains. The grandiose narcissist – full of self-importance – is readily identifiable, but there are other forms that are more challenging to detect. Covert or vulnerable narcissists, Saxton notes, “might seem quite introverted and gentle, often portray themselves as victims or that they have sacrificed significantly – which can attract attention.” Malignant narcissists display grandiosity alongside aggression or antisocial behaviors. “You’re nearing a type of psychopathy with those individuals, who could inflict considerable harm without remorse.”
Previously, there was a belief that more men than women exhibit narcissistic traits, but Saxton posits this was due to men exhibiting more overt grandiose characteristics; women, she asserts, are more likely to embody covert traits. Has there been an increase in narcissism? Is social media, with its rewards for self-promotion, responsible? In Saxton’s view, should an increase exist, it’s likely more connected to heightened mental health awareness than to social media, although it has “made us far more self-aware than ever before.” Narcissism seems to be more common in developed nations, according to Saxton, though she surmises this is probably because of improved access to mental health support. “There’s greater cognizance of what individuals are facing, [whereas previously people] might have been misdiagnosed or undiagnosed. We now possess the language that wasn’t available before.”
Looking at contemporary world leaders, one might wonder if we are experiencing an epidemic of narcissism. In periods of uncertainty, according to Saxton, we often seek reassurance, and leaders exhibiting grandiosity traits may seem to provide clearer direction. “The challenge is we often confuse charisma with leadership,” she says. “And frequently narcissists are very charming, confident, and assured, and we fail to recognize that we’re being drawn toward that in some way, as they offer us a sense of assurance.”
Saxton notes that living with a narcissist can be one of the “most damaging and heart-wrenching personality types”. Why? “It’s extraordinarily isolating, as much of the most harmful behavior is exhibited in private,” she states. Unlike physical or sexual abuse, there are often no clear-cut instances of behavior, meaning individuals in such relationships frequently doubt their own perceptions.
Even among the same family, different children will have varied experiences, according to Saxton, complicating the process of understanding their childhood reality. Each might endure their own challenges: the “golden child,” selected by the parent as the favorite, may experience perfectionism and anxiety; the “scapegoat” could internalize the negative beliefs about them; the “lost child,” who has kept a low profile, might find interpersonal relationships difficult. Saxton leads support groups for those who have navigated life with narcissistic parents. “It’s validating, as the behavioral patterns tend to be quite similar,” she remarks.
Saxton has observed that individuals raised by a narcissistic parent often possess an unstable sense of identity. “They may struggle to understand who they truly are because, from a young age, they’ve had to fit a role in a scenario designed by the narcissistic parent: you’ve been assigned a position, and if you stray from it, I will punish you, correct you, or criticize you, or you’ll miss out on any affectionate attention unless you adhere to that role. Many have drifted significantly from their authentic selves, and that forms the crux of the therapeutic work I undertake with them, helping them rediscover their own voice.”
Although Saxton didn’t have a narcissistic parent, her upbringing was challenging in different aspects. She was raised in Kent, where her father, a pianist, operated a print business. At age 11, he declared bankruptcy, and upon returning from school, she found their home being repossessed. For several subsequent years, she and her brother lived with their mother in church-provided housing. Her mother faced difficulties, resulting in an unstable home life – when she was 15, her school offered to refer her to social services for care, which she declined. She spent approximately six months with a friend’s family before relocating to London.
She established a fruitful career, holding senior board roles at media firms and owning a headhunting enterprise for high-level corporate roles. While interviewing executives, she would delve beneath their polished facades by inquiring about their childhoods. One individual was reluctant to discuss it but later revealed that his father had shot his mother. “I managed it, I believe, with calmness and kindness. However, it prompted me to realize: if I intend to pose these questions responsibly, I require training in psychotherapy or counseling.” Therapy in her mid-20s aided her in “understanding what truly transpired within my family.” She pursued her studies while raising two children and operating her business, ultimately achieving qualification in psychotherapy. Currently, she maintains a clinical practice, serves as a corporate coach, and boasts a significant social media presence.
Following her breakup with her partner, Saxton encountered a man she suspects has NPD – but it took her two years to realize. The duration it took, even as a therapist, illustrates how deceitful relationships with individuals possessing narcissistic traits can be. Some indicators were odd and relatively minor – such as the silent treatment – which could be overlooked when isolated. It felt lonely. “If you truly want a relationship to succeed, you make excuses for it,” Saxton explains. “Maybe I’m behaving a certain way, or perhaps they’re facing struggles stemming from their previous relationships. You invent justifications for why you tolerate this. It was, she asserts, “the most demanding experience of my life. It dismantles everything about you quietly, and what you thought to be factual or normal ceases to be as you become ensnared in their fantasy realm, the world that must be sustained for their facade to endure. You find yourself conforming to this false ecosystem, and the cost of deviation is ridicule or dismantling.”
Once she understood her situation and began to explore the topic of narcissism, Saxton found limited resources available. There was Freud, who claimed children are inherently narcissistic, but issues arise when they fail to mature out of it, along with more contemporary works from psychologists like Sam Vaknin and Ramani Durvasula. Unfortunately, the therapists she consulted lacked insight into narcissism, which compounded her feeling of isolation, yet also ignited her resolve. “Having experienced it firsthand is what inspired me to study and specialize in it.” Saxton is currently working on her forthcoming book about surviving a narcissistic relationship (there is also a planned third installment addressing narcissistic supervisors).
Her research equipped her with the knowledge necessary to heal, although it required roughly two years. For nine months, she was unable to practice. “You start to lose your sense of self. It’s essential to reconnect with your true identity.” This is the focus of her work with clients now. “When contending with any personality disorder, the initial step is realization: recognizing that this is not just someone who’s a bit difficult; this is an entirely different level.” Subsequently, her clients begin to discover their true selves. “Who were you before everything changed for you? Can we traverse back and uncover that side of you? At some point, their anger and sorrow will emerge.” While recovering isn’t a complex journey, she emphasizes the need to find a therapist who knows their craft. “That’s my concern – there aren’t yet sufficient therapists specifically trained in this area.”
Regarding interactions with a narcissistic parent, do clients find confronting them beneficial? “It’s not always wise, depending on the type of narcissist involved, as it can be extremely harmful,” states Saxton. Furthermore, she notes: “You’re not going to receive an apology. No validation, no explanation will come your way.”
Numerous clients choose to cut ties with their narcissistic parent, but is maintaining a relationship feasible? “It’s entirely possible. If you are truly knowledgeable about what you’re engaging with, then you have the option.” Establishing clear boundaries is crucial. “What will you accept, and what won’t you?” The “grey rock” approach – avoiding the attention and drama the narcissist craves – can be effective. “Engaging in confrontation with a narcissist will yield no results. If you decide to maintain a connection with your parent, you must be acutely aware of your circumstances, as it’s a very fragile endeavor.”
You won’t change them, she emphasizes, but a childhood with a narcissistic parent doesn’t mean enduring lifelong damage. As her patient in their 70s confirms, it’s never too late to heal. “Whether the parent is alive or deceased, no matter your age, you can undoubtedly reclaim your life.”
