The first time anyone suggested to me that my father had been abusive to us, I was angry. I was about 26 or 27 when my youngest sister brought up the possibility that he hadn’t been the wonderful father I imagined. I was very angry with her and refused to even consider the idea.
It took me years to break through my denial about what our family had been like. It was difficult to give up my delusions about my father and look at the damage he had done to me.
The old cliche says that “hurt people hurt people.” By the time I realized what he had done to me, I was forced to face the fact that I was perilously close to becoming exactly what he was. Was I hurting people?
The narcissist who had spent my entire life shaping me taught me more than I realized. Could I turn into a malignant narcissist, too?

The Fourth Amendment? Hmmmm. No, we’ve never heard of that one
Little girl’s happy ending reminds us not to be defined by tragedy
My unconscious choices on love say much about women and me
Time and attention are flawless guides to what a person values
Is this what happens when you teach children there are no absolutes?
Love drives us mad, but madness rescues us from ‘horrible sanity’
Was Columbus a hero or a special kind of evil monster? Neither one
Does this look like a child abuser? Voters must not have thought so