You ever feel like no matter what you do, it’s never enough? I mean really, deep down. Not just a bad grade or a work mistake, but that feeling that sneaks in when you were a kid, when your excitement or effort got… ignored. Or twisted.
If that hits you, maybe you grew up with a narcissistic parent. And I know that word feels heavy. I get it. It’s not about calling them a “bad parent.” Often, they didn’t know how to give love any other way. But yeah, it still leaves its mark.
So, think of this as a chat — not a manual. Just a conversation about what it’s like, what it leaves behind, and maybe how we start to heal.
Childhood in That House
Okay, picture this. You’re a kid. You spend hours on a drawing — colors everywhere, your own little world on paper. You run to show it. Your parent looks at it and goes, “Why didn’t you include me?” Or maybe, “It’s fine. But next time make it better.”
Small moments. But they hit deep. Joy feels… borrowed. Accomplishment? Not yours.
Or maybe you nail a test. High marks. You’re excited. And the first thing you hear is, “Good. But your cousin scored higher.”
Little messages. Day after day. And the lesson sinks in quietly:
- You’re loved only if you make someone else happy.
- Your feelings? Secondary.
- Approval is something you chase, never get freely.
I talked to Riya recently. She said, “Even now, compliments freak me out. I wait for the ‘but…’ that never comes.” Crazy, right? But it makes sense if you lived it.
Walking on Eggshells
Growing up there feels like walking on eggshells. Always. You learn to read moods like a secret code. Calm day? Smile. Stormy day? Stay invisible.
My friend Anil explained it perfectly: “If I laughed too loud or got excited, it was like stealing the spotlight. So I stayed quiet. Blended in. Survived.”
And it’s not always yelling. Sometimes it’s silence. Or a tiny glance of disappointment that sinks straight into your chest. Funny thing is, you don’t notice it shaping you until years later — like when someone says, “You’re amazing!” and you think, “Wait… am I?”
How It Shows Up as an Adult
Childhood doesn’t stay tucked away. It creeps in in the weirdest ways:
- Self-doubt, even when you’re killing it.
- People-pleasing, even when it’s exhausting.
- Trust issues, because love still feels risky.
- Hiding emotions, because showing them felt unsafe.
Meera told me once, “I can’t celebrate my victories. Compliments make me nervous. I’m still waiting for criticism.”
It’s exhausting, right? But here’s the thing — you’re not broken. You survived. Survival looks like chains sometimes, but it saved you then.
Spotting the Patterns
Not everyone has the same experience, but many of us notice:
- Feeling like emotions are “too much” or “not enough.”
- Constantly chasing approval.
- Avoiding conflict like the plague.
- Second-guessing yourself all the time.
Ever notice yourself doing the same thing your parent did and wonder why? That’s normal. Learned behavior. And guess what — you can unlearn it.
Tiny Steps Toward Healing
Healing is messy. It’s not a straight line. But it’s possible.
Step 1: Recognise the voice. That inner critic? “You’re not enough” — it’s not yours. Catch it. Name it. Say, “I’m learning. I’m enough.”
Step 2: Set boundaries. Yes, it feels scary. But it’s life-saving. That could mean:
- “I can’t talk right now” (without overexplaining).
- Limiting draining interactions.
- Choosing not to share personal victories if it invites criticism.
Step 3: Heal the inner child. Write a note to yourself at 7, 10, 12. “You didn’t deserve the blame. You were lovable. You are still lovable.” Read it aloud. It feels weird at first. Then a little… freeing.
Step 4: Find support. Friends, a therapist, support groups. Hearing someone say, “I believe you” — that’s gold.
Parenting Differently
If you’re a parent, you might panic: “What if I repeat their mistakes?”
Awareness is everything. Awareness alone changes the cycle.
Even small moves help:
- “I hear you. That’s hard.”
- “I see how much you tried. That’s amazing.”
- “I’m sorry I snapped. That wasn’t fair.”
Every act builds emotional safety — something we all craved as kids.
Gentle Reminders
- You’re not responsible for anyone else’s happiness.
- Saying “no” is okay.
- Your feelings are valid.
- Healing is slow. Tiny steps count.
Even a letter, a boundary, a reflection — wins.
Little Real-Life Snippets
- I met a young man who avoids sharing good news with his parents. He says, “It’s like I’m waiting for them to take it away.”
- A woman I spoke to hugs her toddler and whispers, “I see you. You matter.” She says it heals her inner child too.
- One person told me, “I still start sentences with ‘Sorry’ even when I haven’t done anything wrong.” That’s learned survival – and you can unlearn it.
See? These tiny moments add up. They show the patterns, and slowly, they can change.
Final Thoughts
You survived. That alone is remarkable. Your childhood doesn’t define you — it informs you, but it doesn’t control your story.
Take a breath. Name that old voice. Hug your inner child. Set your boundaries. Remember: You are enough, just as you are.
Healing is messy, slow, beautiful. One story, one step, one day at a time.
