Never good enough.
My narcissistic, so-called sister came over Sunday night, and as usual, overstayed her welcome by several hours. She was at my house until after eleven o'clock PM, with me having to get up for work the next morning. This is not unusual. She'll come over to visit her narcissistic father for an ego-stroking fest and stay no less than six hours. With both being narcissists, you can imagine how that goes. It's all "You're so great" and "Oh you poor victim" on repeat. It's both nauseating and infuriating. The ego boost they both get has them both on "Look how awesome I am" and "Me, me, me..." for days.
As we all know, narcissists never see anything wrong with what they do, and they are always the greatest person in the room. As hard as I try to ignore my so-called sister, I somehow still wind up pleading for her approval. It's gross and I hate myself every time. I'm honestly looking forward to the day where I don't ever have to see her again. (Which will mean my mom is gone, so let's deal with the she-witch for a while longer, eh?)
Anyhow, her royal highness has one high horse that irritates me to no end: She thinks her taste in music is superior because "I listen to deep music". Florence And The Machine, Passenger... Anything that makes you feel like a victim, basically. Now, I'm not knocking these artists. I like them! But this narc feels she has the moral high ground because she doesn't know the lyrics to a single song played on regular radio. And, oh, the look she gives me for listening to All Time Low could tear down the strongest of Gray Rock people.
I've never been bullied out of liking what I like, and I'll be damned if I let her do it now. I feel like a pathetic little worm for letting her make me feel bad for liking what I do, though.
Mickey, bite me. I like ATL. I like One Direction. I like Hanson. I like some things played on the radio. I like what I like, and you have no right to tell me, in your narcissistic way, that I'm a lesser person for it. In fact, I'm stronger than you because I I don't tell you you're wrong for what MUSIC you listen to. What a pathetic life you live, stomping down people who aren't up to your standards. It's MUSIC, for crying out loud! Should I tell you you're not as good as I am because you drive a white car? It's that stupid.
Adding to this is her need to be the most knowledgeable person in the room. She's always right, you're always wrong, and if you don't take her advice, she gets this look... eyes closed, nose turned upward. The epitome of snob face. Add on top her tone of "you just killed my firstborn" and you feel the need to apologize and tell her she's right. I no longer follow these reactions with placating responses of adherence to her wisdom. That's one thing I've managed to conquer. I know what's best for me and my life, not her.
She and I have never been close. Well, we were... until she started kindergarten. I was two. Since then, I've never met her standards. She so desperately wanted me to be exactly like her, but would freak out and scream "I'M AN INDIVIDUAL" if I was even remotely like her. I couldn't like a song she liked, I couldn't wear her old clothes, I couldn't do anything to please her. Our mom even takes my side on this. Mom knows it's all older sister's fault that we don't get along. One hundred percent on her. I've tried. I finally gave up. I'm me, and I'm happy with myself.
Mickey, I hope that one day you get help with your narcissism and become a good sister. Until then, you're going to be frequently offended as I shoot down your every criticism of me and who I am.
