Is This Anxiety Even Mine?
Lately I’ve been asking myself a big question: What if the anxiety and self-doubt I’ve carried most of my life isn’t even mine? I’ve been reading about daughters of narcissistic mothers, and it was like holding up a mirror. A questionnaire listed 33 traits, and I could tick off more than 25 for my mum. For years I told myself maybe I was imagining it, maybe I was being too harsh, maybe it was my fault. But reading that book gave me permission to name the truth, I wasn’t making it up. I want to be clear, this isn’t about labelling my mum as a monster. She was raised by a deeply narcissistic mother herself. But the reality is, I was shaped by her unmet needs and her image, rather than being allowed to grow into my own identity. Some of my biggest wounds: - Being judged on my appearance, compared to her beauty, and even put on a diet at age 10. - Having my dreams and desires quietly undermined so I would stay in line with what she wanted. - Living through cycles of abuse with my alcoholic dad, brought back into our lives under the story that “kids need a father”, when really, she needed him. Naming this truth has been painful, but also incredibly freeing. I’ve reduced contact, and I’m discovering that without her influence, my nervous system is calmer, my anxiety is lighter, and I’m finally learning who I actually am. 💡 The takeaway? Healing isn’t about labelling others as “bad.” It’s about naming your reality so you can step into your own identity. And nervous system work has been the bridge for me, helping me feel anger, sadness, and even grief without dysregulating. ✨ Have you ever noticed that your anxiety might actually be absorbed from someone else? What happens when you allow yourself to ask, “Is this even mine?” I’d love to hear your reflections below.