Adult Child of Narcissist (ACoN): what it really means, what it doesn’t, and why the term is about understanding trauma—not blame or immaturity.
I’ve been thinking a lot about Chester Bennington lately—not because of how his story ended, but because of how much of his living story feels familiar. Not the fame.Not the stage.Not the screaming crowds. The inside. Chester spent his life translating something unspeakable into sound. Rage, grief, abandonment, self-blame, shame—wrapped…
To the woman who called herself my mother, You spent a lifetime convincing me you were the victim. You wore that mask so tightly you almost convinced me, too. For years I believed your pain was my fault — that if I just loved harder, explained better, or tried one…
What childhood silence teaches the nervous system For a long time, I thought my relationship with anger was broken. When I finally spoke up, it didn’t come out measured or tidy.It came out cataclysmic — a scorched-earth eruption that left people stunned and me wondering how things escalated so fast.…
Let’s get something straight. If your life has been shaped by lies, emotional whiplash, shifting rules, and the constant requirement to adapt just to survive… “Fuck it, I give up” is not a failure.It’s a rational response. Because at some point, continuing to try becomes self-harm. You Can’t Win a…
There’s a moment from when I was about fifteen years old that I didn’t talk about for decades. During the chaos surrounding my mother and step-father’s divorce, my mother once threatened to put my sister and me into the car and drive us all off a bridge. That wasn’t the…
I’m not making resolutions this year. Not because I don’t believe in growth.Not because I’ve “given up.”But because resolutions assume the problem is insufficient effort. And that’s not what this past year taught me. 2025 wasn’t a year of self-improvement.It was a year of self-extraction. From lies.From roles that were…
I’ve been joking lately that hitting 50 made me feel a little like Walter White — just without the urge to build a meth empire. But the more I sit with that comparison, the more I realize it’s actually… not a joke at all. There’s something real — something psychological,…
For most of my life, Christmas came with a low-grade dread I didn’t have language for. On the surface, it looked like a normal holiday — lights, food, family photos. Underneath, my nervous system knew better. Holidays weren’t about joy or connection. They were tests. Performances. Emotional obstacle courses where…
For most of my life, I thought addiction was the problem. The shame.The struggle.The guilt.The constant attempts to “fix myself.”The belief that if I could just stop that, everything else would finally fall into place. But the truth — the truth I didn’t discover until the Mom-pocalypse resulted in the…