The Making of a Narcissist

Controlling and manipulative behaviors don't have to be intergenerational.

(Stephen Andrews / pexels.com)

As my readers know from past articles, I don’t like using the word narcissist. It’s so stereotyped that it has become clichéd in our culture, yet sometimes it truly is the only term that fits.

Someone who has a predominant narcissistic part of themselves is an individual who has allowed that self-focused part to become so blended it’s nearly always at the forefront of their personality. Their true, inmost selves become buried, replaced by an overbearing part. This often results in manipulative, abusive, and controlling behaviors.

Yet how does a person develop a narcissistic part that becomes so blended it takes over the entire self-system? There’s no clear-cut, simple answer to that question, and there are many theories. For example, childhood neglect (not just physical neglect, but emotional as well) can cause a person to develop covert narcissistic traits such reversing the roles and playing the victim, become passive-aggressive, and engaging in sly verbal abuse. Being put on a pedestal—the “Golden Child” of the family—can also cause narcissistic traits to develop, as can being a witness to abuse in the home, neurobiology, attachment issues, and a variety of other complex and intertwining factors.

Recently I had an interesting experience—I witnessed the potential creation of a future narcissist. I pray something will change in this child’s life so healing and awareness can occur, thereby halting and eventually eliminating the potential narcissistic part, but as it stands now, I’m seriously concerned for this child—and for any of his future relationship partners.

A few seats behind me on a recent flight sat a mother and her three-year-old son. The child was quite unhappy about having to be buckled in for safety, screaming at the top of his lungs, “No seatbelt! No seatbelt!” The more his mother tried to appease him with snacks and platitudes the louder he yelled—tantrum at full throttle. Rather than setting up firm boundaries, explaining about travel safety at a level he could understand, or insisting that tantrums aren’t the way to communicate, the mother attempted to bribe her son.

“If  you wear your seatbelt, you can have a bag of chips. Don’t you want chips?”

“NO SEATBELT, I said NO SEATBELT!!!!!”

“You don’t want chips? Ok. What about a cookie?”

“NO SEATBELT!!!!!!”

More screaming ensued for another minute until the mother gave in and took off her child’s seatbelt—right before takeoff (and no, the stewardess didn’t do anything about the situation). The boy then began standing on his seat, jumping up and down, pushing buttons, and otherwise acting in any way he wanted, without repercussion.

The mother tried to put the seatbelt back on her son a couple more times, with the same result—complete tantrum, until again the boy got his way and was released from the seatbelt. There was no discipline, and the boy learned only one lesson.

The louder he screamed, the more he could get his mother to do whatever he wanted.

What will this child be like in adulthood after having this lesson ingrained in his psyche? On the playground at age ten, will he yell at his schoolmates until they comply with his demands? When he reaches adolescence and adulthood, will he carry this behavior forward, realizing that in order to control and manipulate his partners into submission, all he needs to do is abusively shout at them until they cringe in fear and do whatever he wants? Will he learn to that eventually, he doesn’t even need to shout so much, because a mere look or hint at the bubbling rage beneath the surface will be all that’s needed to subdue his partners?

In this particular instance, at least to outward appearances, a child was being taught exactly how to control and manipulate everyone around him—not just his mother, but even the flight staff, who remained shockingly silent and allowed the boy to remain standing in his seat during the entire flight, including take-off and landing. The lessons this child learned were those of controlling others, using abusive behaviors to get his way, and how to manipulate people into doing his bidding—without consequences.

Abusive behaviors and attitudes are intergenerational. They get passed down from parent to child in a never-ending progression, unless one person in the chain faces these unhealthy parts and seeks professional, spiritual, and personal healing. It’s important to remember that no part of us is bad—but parts of us can behave badly. In the words of St. Paul, “ I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate” (Rom. 7:15).

Even individuals who have had an unhealthy upbringing, who have been taught that to get their way requires screaming, rages, and other toxic behaviors, can transform themselves—if they’re willing to do the work. Chapter nine of my book, Don’t Plant Your Seeds Among Thorns: A Catholic’s Guide to Recognizing and Recovering from Intimate Partner Abuse covers the topic of “Is He Capable or Willing to Change?” As I state in that chapter,

Can someone with abusive tendencies change their attitudes and behaviors? Can they alter their lives to be Christ-centered rather than self-centered, which will enable them to understand the true meaning of a sacramental marriage?

As surprising as it may seem—and contrary to what you’ll learn from many secular sources—the answer is a firm and definite yes. We’re all given free will as a gift and grace from God. The true question isn’t can someone change, but whether or not they’re willing to go through the hard work and self-reflection required for authentic transformation.

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I don’t know the story of this little boy’s mother. Was she raised in a family in which verbal abuse, rages and shouting were a part of her daily life, and she learned to cower and give in so as to survive? Does her husband rage and shout at her, and walking on eggshells has become a part of her life? Was it sheer embarrassment at her son’s behavior that caused her to give in to his every whim just so he wouldn’t “cause a scene”? Was she simply exhausted by the difficult task of parenting, or perhaps on her way to a funeral or other sad occasion and unable to cope?

Her circumstances are impossible to know and unfair to judge, of course. Yet what I can say is that if this woman is or has experienced abuse and coercive control in her past, and has learned to parent based on her experiences with others, then she, too, can heal. In doing so, she can learn how to interact with her child in a healthy, productive way that will teach him the skills he’ll need to develop and maintain healthy future relationships.  

Research is finding that ways of experiencing the world can be passed down from generation to generation until or unless that way of thinking and way of behaving is recognized and changed. The first line of defense is the recognition.

(Enod Gray, Neglect, the Silent Abuser: How to Recognize and Heal from Childhood Neglect)

Remember that although abusive behaviors and attitudes can be passed down from generation to generation, or can be learned by lack of discipline, childhood neglect, or by putting a child on an unrealistic pedestal, healing is also intergenerational. When you heal yourself from the wounds of domestic abuse, you heal your children—and your grandchildren, your great-grandchildren, your great-great grandchildren …