Toxic Parents (8 page)

All of us manipulate others to varying degrees. Few of us are confident enough to just ask for everything we want in this world, so we develop indirect ways of asking. We don’t ask our spouse for a glass
of wine, we ask if there’s any open; we don’t ask our guests to leave at the end of the evening, we yawn; we don’t ask an attractive stranger for a phone number, we engage in small talk. Children manipulate parents as much as parents do children. Spouses, friends, and relatives all manipulate one another. Salesmen make a living out of manipulating. There’s nothing inherently evil about it; in fact, it’s a normal mode of human communication.

But when it becomes a tool for consistent control, manipulation can be exceedingly destructive, especially in a parent-child relationship. Because manipulative parents are so adept at hiding their true motives, their children live in a world of confusion. They know they’re being had, but they can’t figure out how.

“W
HY
D
OES
S
HE
A
LWAYS
H
AVE TO
H
ELP
?”

One of the most common types of toxic manipulators is the “helper.” Instead of letting go, the helper creates situations to make him-or herself “needed” in the adult child’s life. This manipulation often comes packaged as well-meaning but unwanted assistance.

Lee, 32, is an outgoing, freckled-faced, former top-seeded amateur tennis player who has been doing very well as a tennis pro at a country club. Despite an active social life, professional recognition, and a good job, she was going into regular periods of deep depression. Her relationship with her mother quickly dominated our first session together:

I’ve worked very hard to get where I am, but my mother doesn’t think I can tie my own shoes. Her whole life is wrapped up in me, and it’s gotten much worse since my dad died. She just doesn’t let up. She’s always bringing food over to my apartment because she doesn’t think I eat well enough. Sometimes, I come back to my place and find that she’s come in and cleaned it “as a favor.” She’s even rearranged my clothes and furniture!

I asked Lee if she’d ever simply asked her mother to stop doing these things.

All the time. She just wells up with tears and cries, “What’s wrong with a mother who helps a daughter she loves?” Last month I was invited to play a tournament in San Francisco. My mother went on and on about how far it was and how I couldn’t possibly drive the whole way by myself. So she volunteered to come with me. When I told her she really didn’t have to, she acted like I was trying to trick her out of a free vacation. So I said okay. I had really been looking forward to the time alone, but what could I say?

As Lee and I worked together in therapy, she began to see how much her feelings of competence had been undermined by her mother. But whenever Lee tried to express her frustration, she was overwhelmed by guilt because her mother appeared to be so loving and caring. Lee became increasingly angry at her mother, and since she couldn’t let it out, she had to hold it in. Eventually, it found an outlet as depression.

Of course, her depression just fed the cycle. Her mother never missed an opportunity to say things such as, “Look how down in the mouth you look. Let me fix a little lunch, just to cheer you up.”

On those rare occasions when Lee did work up the courage to tell her mother how she felt, her mother would become the tearful martyr. Lee would invariably feel guilty and try to apologize, but her mother would cut her off with, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be all right.”

I suggested to Lee that if her mother had been more direct in asking for what she wanted, Lee wouldn’t have been so angry. Lee agreed.

You’re right. If she could only say, “I’m lonely, I miss you, I’d like you to spend more time with me,” at least I’d know what I was dealing with. I’d have some choices. The way it is now, it’s like she’s taken over my life.

When Lee bemoaned her lack of choices, she was echoing what many adult children of manipulative parents believe. Manipulation paints people into a corner: to fight it, they have to hurt someone who’s “just trying to be nice.” For most people it seems easier to give in.

T
IS THE
S
EASON TO
B
E
M
ELANCHOLY

Manipulative parents have a field day on holidays, spreading guilt as if it were Christmas cheer. Holidays tend to intensify whatever family conflicts already exist. Instead of anticipating holiday pleasure, many people find themselves dreading the rise of family tensions that holidays often bring.

One of my clients, Fred, a 27-year-old grocery clerk, and the youngest of four siblings, told me a story of classic manipulation by his mother:

My mother always made a big deal about all of us coming home for Christmas. Last year, I won a radio contest and got a free trip to Aspen over the holidays. I was really excited since I could never afford a trip like this myself. I love skiing, and it was an incredible chance for me to take my girlfriend someplace great. We’d both been working so hard, this vacation sounded like heaven. But when I broke the news to my mom, she looked like somebody just died. Her eyes glazed up and her lip started trembling, you know, like she was going to cry? Then she said, “It’s okay, honey. You have a good time. Maybe we just won’t have Christmas dinner this year,” which really made me feel like a real turd.

I asked Fred whether he had managed to go on the trip anyway.

Yeah, I went. But I had the worst time of my life. I was in such a horrible mood that I kept fighting with my girlfriend. I spent half the trip on the phone with my mother, and both my brothers, and my sister. . . . I was apologizing all over the place. It wasn’t worth the agony.

I was frankly surprised that Fred had gone on his trip at all. I’ve seen people go to far more extravagant lengths to avoid feeling guilty than canceling a trip. Manipulative parents are masters of guilt, and Fred’s mother was no exception.

Of course, they had Christmas dinner without me. But my mother was so miserable she burned the turkey for the first time in forty years. I got three phone calls from my sister telling me how I’d killed the family tradition. My oldest brother told me everybody was totally bummed out because I wasn’t there. And then my other brother really laid one on me. He said, “Us kids are all she’s got. How many more Christmases do you think Mom has left?” Like I’m abandoning her on her deathbed or something. Is that fair, Susan? She’s not even sixty, she’s in perfect health. I’m sure he got that line straight from my mother’s mouth. I’ll never miss Christmas again, I’ll tell you that.

Instead of expressing her feelings directly to Fred, Fred’s mother enlisted her other children to do it for her. This is an extremely effective tactic for many manipulative parents. Remember, their primary goal is to avoid direct confrontation. Instead of accusing Fred herself, his mother played the role of martyr at Christmas dinner. She couldn’t have made a more forceful condemnation of Fred if she’d taken an ad out in the paper.

I explained to Fred that his mother and siblings had made their own choices to have a miserable Christmas. Fred was not responsible. Nothing but their own choice had stopped them from toasting Fred in his absence and having a fun-filled evening.

As long as Fred continued to believe that he was a bad person because he dared to do something for himself, his mother would continue to control him through guilt. Fred eventually came to understand this and is now much more effective in dealing with his mother. Though she sees her son’s new assertiveness as some form of “punishment,” Fred has tipped the balance of power to the point where any concessions he makes are concessions of choice, not capitulation.

“W
HY
C
AN’T
Y
OU
B
E
M
ORE
L
IKE
Y
OUR
S
ISTER
?”

Many toxic parents compare one sibling unfavorably with another to make the target child feel that he’s not doing enough to gain parental affection. This motivates the child to do whatever the parents want in order to regain their favor. This divide-and-conquer technique is often unleashed against children who become a little too independent, threatening the balance of the family system.

Whether consciously or unconsciously, these parents manipulate an otherwise normal sibling rivalry into a cruel competition that inhibits the growth of healthy sibling bonds. The effects are far-reaching. In addition to the obvious damage to the child’s self-image, negative comparisons create resentments and jealousies between siblings that can color their relationship for a lifetime.

Rebel with a Cause

When toxic parents control us in intense, intimidating, guilt-producing, or emotionally crippling ways, we usually react in one of two ways: we capitulate or we rebel. Both of these reactions inhibit psychological separation, even though rebellion would seem to do just the opposite. The truth is, if we rebel in reaction to our parents, we are being controlled just as surely as if we submit.

Jonathan, 55, is a nice-looking, athletic bachelor who owns a
large computer software company. In our first session together, he almost apologized for his intense feelings of panic and loneliness:

Now, don’t start feeling sorry for me. I’ve got a beautiful house. I collect cars. I’ve got all kinds of possessions. I really lead an okay life. But there are times when I get very, very lonely. I have so much, and I can’t share it with anyone. Sometimes I get this terrible feeling of loss for what I might have had in terms of a loving, intimate relationship. I’m terrified that I’m going to end up dying alone.

I asked Jonathan if he had any idea why he was having such a difficult time with relationships.

Every time I’ve gotten close to a woman . . . or even thought about marrying someone, I’ve panicked and run. I don’t know why . . . I wish I did. My mother never lets me hear the end of it.

I asked Jonathan how he felt about this pressure from his mother.

She’s obsessed with my getting married. She’s eighty-one, she’s in good health, and she has plenty of her own friends, but I feel like she spends her whole day worrying about my love life. I really love her, but I can’t stand being around her because of this. She lives for my happiness. She smothers me with her concern. It’s like I can’t peel this woman off of me. She’s constantly trying to tell me how to live my life . . . always has. I mean, she would breathe for me if she could.

Jonathan’s last statement was a wonderfully graphic description of “fusion.” His mother was so enmeshed with him that she forgot where she ended and he began. She “fused” her life to his. Jonathan became an extension of her, as if his life were her life. Jonathan
needed to free himself from her suffocating control, so he rebelled. He rejected whatever she wanted for him, including things he might otherwise desire, such as marriage.

I suggested to Jonathan that he may have been so intent on rebelling against his controlling mother that he was ignoring his own true desires. It had become so important to him not to give in to his mother’s wishes that he deprived himself of the kind of relationship with a woman he claimed to want. By doing this, he created for himself an illusion that he was “his own man,” but in reality his need to rebel overpowered his free will.

I call this “self-defeating rebellion.” It is the flip side of capitulation. Healthy rebellion is an active exercise of free choice. It enhances personal growth and individuality. Self-defeating rebellion is a reaction against a controlling parent, an exercise in which the means attempt to justify an unsatisfactory end. This is rarely in our best interests.

Control from the Grave

One of my group members once said, “My parents are both dead, so they don’t have any power over me.” Another member spoke out: “They may be dead, honey, but they’re still living in your head!” Both self-defeating rebellion and capitulation can persist long after a parent’s death.

Many people believe that once the controlling parent dies they will be free, but the psychological umbilical cord reaches not only across continents but out of the grave. I’ve seen hundreds of adults who were unflinchingly loyal to their parents’ demands and negative messages long after their parents were gone.

Eli, 60, a very successful businessman with an extraordinary intellect and a wry wit, made an unusually sophisticated assessment of his situation: “I’m a supporting player in my own life.”

When I first met Eli, despite being a millionaire many times over,
he was living in a one-room apartment, driving an old clunker, and living the lifestyle of a man who could barely make ends meet. He was extremely generous with his two adult daughters but an obsessive penny-pincher with himself.

I remember one day when he came to see me after work. I asked him how his day had been and he laughingly told me that he’d almost blown an $18 million deal because he’d been late for a meeting. Though usually punctual, Eli had circled the block for twenty minutes looking for a parking place on the street to avoid the cost of the building’s lot. He had jeopardized $18 million for the sake of a $5 parking fee!