First Attempt = Failure

Because they feel impotent, Narcissists fear the power they imagine others to have. Narcissists credit to them an almost delirious and crazy sense, a malice that is really just a projection of their own malevolence.

I believe that quote is the center from which all of WWW’s feelings towards me stem. From the moment she met me, she immediately saw me as a threat. In her mind she must have believed I was actually going to use whatever power I had (or she thought I had) to manipulate her son against her. In reality, that was totally her projection. It is SHE that has been using whatever power she has to turn DH against ME. Projection. Whoever came up with that is brilliant. WWW has never liked me because of that paranoid delusion of hers. As much as DH has tried to believe that if I just tried a little harder to get along with his mother or if I just sat down with her and worked out "our" issues, it could be better. He has been of the opinion that this is some sort of two-way street and that our relationship failures can be blamed in equal measure. The reality is that there has never been anything I can say, never anything I can do, no particular way I can behave that will ever convince that bat shit crazy bitch that I am not out to steal HER SON from her.

It was only a couple weeks after my dad’s passing that DH’s mom flew in on her broom to “visit.” According to DH she had only ever visited him once before and he had lived in our state for 8 years at that point. How lucky was I to get the long awaited visit after only dating for about a month and a half? How ironic it was that her visit fell after an almost complete physical absence from his life for 8 years until I walked into it. I had no idea what awaited me. The only inkling I had that she was something I may need to be concerned about was when DH said vaguely, “well, my mom’s a little different.” He didn’t elaborate. He really couldn’t. She needed to be seen in order for one to understand.

The most shocking thing about WWW isn’t something anyone who doesn’t know her well would know, but stands out HUGE as far as indicating that this woman needs to come with a warning label. She’s been married five times. Yes, count them. One, two, three, four, five. Clearly, she doesn’t play well with others. DH would argue with me at this point and say, “Well, the last marriage was annulled, so it doesn’t count.” Whatever. The intent was the same regardless of how it ended up. I don’t recall who the men were. The first husband was DH’s dad with whom WWW had two children - DH and his sister. I’ll call DH’s sister “Crunchy” because she’s rather granola. One of WWW’s husband’s (#2 or #3) was a man who when this man was a toddler, played with DH. This means that one of her husbands was her own son’s childhood friend and the same age. How screwed up and disgusting is that? How that even came to pass I have no idea. The other two I have no stories that come to mind. The last husband borrowed money from her to buy WWW her own engagement ring. He then purchased a fake diamond and disappeared after the wedding with her money and whatever else he scammed off her. That marriage was annulled. She has remained single since.

WWW thinks she’s a hot mama. More than once I’ve seen her wearing leather pants. Her regular fashion MO is animal print tops, or those studded with sequins or glitter. She has a vast liking for jewelry, but changes it so often there doesn’t seem to be anything that is overly sentimental to her, but I could be wrong. She likes jewelry for the attention it gets her and how rich or important it makes her seem to others. She’s had a face lift and is very concerned about looking old. I think she’s somewhat retired now, but when I first met her she was very involved in marketing products with catalogs and QVC. She gave radio interviews and went on buying trips to Hong Kong, but this was all done within her own business. I firmly believe that she works this way because she absolutely cannot get along with others in any professional setting where there are more than three people in close quarters. Whatever the case, she made it work for her.

Her home at the time I met her was quite like her clothing choices. I have only been there twice, but when I first walked in my eyes bugged out of my head. Mind you, I may have come from a rather simple, Midwest family oriented situation so it could have just seemed over the top to me. You be the judge. Sitting In her front window was a huge carousel horse wrapped in Christmas lights. That was the first thing you saw. The rest of the house was filled with fancy crystal and shiny hoo-ha’s. You wanted to tip toe through and god forbid you touch anything. It was like a museum. The art work that covered the walls were silhouettes of female nudes or actual female nudes who appeared to be masturbating, or other female nudes in various array. It’s been so long since I’ve been there I can’t really even recall all the weirdness now.

WWW’s overall countenance is one of haughtiness and arrogance. She thinks she’s all that and a bag of chips. When you sit down at the dinner table she monopolizes the conversation and talks all about her work or whatever it is that interests her at the moment. And she goes on and on and on and fucking on. And you can just feel as she talks that she absolutely believes that everything she says is correct. Her ego precedes her like an ooze. She knows everything, about everything and if you contradict her, she’ll argue with you about it. Occasionally, she does ask others around her something superficial like "how are you?” or “how is work?” and those topics are discussed until they fall flat, which is rather quickly. I learned fast that WWW isn’t really interested in your answers anyway. Very early into meeting WWW, I learned how to zone out, yet appear like I was still listing to and absorbing the shit she was saying. After a while, it was second nature. Any conversations around her would find me glazing over. I do this to protect my sanity. The more I began to dislike her, the more these drone like impersonal discussions drove me to an internal frenzy. She’d walk into a room and all I wanted to do was get the fuck out. When she spoke, I heard nothing she said and I missed nothing she said because it related to me or my life not.at.all EVAR. Conversation with her does not involve give and take. During the 15 years I’ve known DH’s mom, not a single personal thing has ever come out of her mouth. She has never said anything about her life, her feelings, what she’s excited about, what she’s sad about, what she’s looking forward to. It’s like there’s no life in her. Nothing she says comes out in any way like something you can relate to, glom on to and weave a relationship with. I can’t describe it any better than that.

Worse than all this, was the apparent bizarre hold she has over DH. During her first visit after DH and I started dating, the minute she arrived she starting taking control of his life, his house and his things. She had him cleaning out his basement, reorganizing everything, throwing his stuff out and he just stood there like a robot and did everything she said, and did whatever she wanted for as long as she wanted. Although this seemed weird, I didn’t attribute anything sinister or diabolical in it. I didn’t really think about it much at all. I should have. I didn’t because I am the antithesis of WWW. Where WWW sees evil and bad in people, even when there is none, I see good and non-intent in people even when perhaps there is. Or at least that’s who I was THEN.

After his mom boarded the plane for home, you had better believe that my hair stood on end when DH told me what his mother said about me. DH said that one night when it was just he and his mom that she said to him “I think you need to break up with M.A. because she has too much emotional baggage. You need to let her go so that she has time to heal.” I knew I picked a nice man when his response to her was: “Yes, she has a lot sad things going on right now, but why does that mean she has to go through it alone?”

WWW would have liked that wouldn’t she? Her attempt failed.