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The Hole Only Jesus Could Fill: A Journey Through the Pain of a Narcissistic Mother

By: Jennifer Gayle Sappington

They say that the relationship between a mother and daughter is one of the most precious bonds a person can experience. It’s supposed to be a source of warmth, comfort, and protection. But what happens when that relationship is instead filled with manipulation, cruelty, and betrayal? What if your mother is the one who leaves you doubting your worth, questioning your reality, and feeling utterly alone? This is the reality many daughters of narcissistic mothers face—and for a long time, it was mine.

From the outside, my mother seemed perfect. The kind of woman who could charm a room full of strangers, always polite, well-dressed, and poised. But behind closed doors, it was a different story. In private, she wore a mask of control and manipulation, always positioning herself as the victim while slowly chipping away at my sense of self. It’s a tough thing to accept when the person who’s supposed to nurture you is also the person who’s eroding your confidence and isolating you from everyone who might help.

Covert Narcissism and Emotional Unavailability

A covert narcissist mother is an expert at appearing like the “perfect” mother. Unlike the overt narcissist, who is obvious in their grandiosity and entitlement, a covert narcissist’s manipulation is subtle, often hidden behind a mask of fragility, neediness, or martyrdom. If you have one, you’ll know it’s a kind of emotional warfare that others don’t easily see. It’s like walking into a room full of people and knowing you’re the only one who sees the landmines.

In my experience, it was her constant need to portray herself as the victim that kept me feeling guilty and inadequate. Any boundary I tried to set, any time I tried to stand up for myself, was met with a silent yet piercing punishment. The withdrawal of affection, the stonewalling, the smear campaigns designed to make others believe I was the problem. And the worst part? The more I tried to explain my side, the crazier I seemed to everyone else. That’s how effective the covert narcissist’s tactics are. You’re left defending yourself from an invisible crime, while the real damage is happening behind the scenes.

And so, little by little, my world grew smaller. Friendships vanished, family members distanced themselves, and I was left isolated, not just from those around me, but from myself. It was a deep, gnawing loneliness, a hole in my heart that no amount of success, relationships, or self-help books could ever fill. I tried so hard to be the daughter she wanted, to gain her approval, to finally be “enough.” But nothing worked.

The Journey to Rock Bottom

After years of trying to make sense of the chaos, I hit rock bottom. The isolation was complete. My mother’s smear campaign had reached a point where even lifelong friends were no longer returning my calls. People I had once trusted turned their backs on me. At that point, she had taken everything—emotionally, financially, and spiritually. She had stripped me of my identity, leaving me to wonder if I’d ever truly existed outside of her manipulation.

I’m not going to sugarcoat it—those were dark days. Days filled with tears, confusion, and a desperation I can hardly put into words. It was like wandering through a fog, unable to find my way out, feeling utterly invisible. But in the depths of that despair, something incredible happened.

Finding Jesus in the Midst of the Storm

It was during one of those moments, at the lowest point, that I finally turned to the only source of comfort I hadn’t yet sought—Jesus. I had been raised with some knowledge of faith, but it always felt distant, abstract. But in the stillness of my brokenness, I felt His presence like never before. It was as if He had been waiting for me all along, gently calling out to me through the chaos, waiting for me to turn my heart toward Him.

It wasn’t an instant fix—let’s be clear. I didn’t suddenly wake up one morning and feel like everything was perfect. The pain was still there, the scars still ran deep. But something shifted. There was a new peace that settled into my soul. It was like the hole that had been growing inside me for all those years started to heal. Not because of anything I did, but because of what He did for me. Jesus showed me that my worth wasn’t dependent on my mother’s approval, or anyone else’s for that matter. My value comes from being a child of God.

In Christ, I found the unconditional love I had been searching for my entire life. He became the parent I never had, the protector I always needed. He didn’t just fill the hole in my heart—He made me whole again.

Grace in the Face of the Attack

Now, don’t get me wrong—my mother didn’t change. In fact, if anything, her attacks intensified once she realized that her old tactics no longer had the same effect on me. The smear campaigns continued, the lies spread further, and the isolation grew deeper. But something was different this time. I wasn’t battling her lies alone anymore. I had Jesus walking beside me, strengthening me, reminding me daily that my battle wasn’t against her, but against the darkness trying to pull me down.

And that’s where the true miracle happened. Despite the ongoing attacks, I felt blessed every single day. Not because life was easy, but because I was no longer fighting for my worth. Jesus had already secured that for me. He had shown me that no matter how much my mother tried to tear me down, I was unbreakable in Him.

Finding Community in Christ

Another beautiful part of this journey was finding a community of other motherless daughters who understood my pain. Through ministries like this one, I realized that I wasn’t alone in my experience. There are so many women out there who have faced similar struggles with their own mothers—women who have been gaslit, manipulated, and left feeling like they’re the problem. But in Christ, we’ve all found healing. We’ve found a new family, a family built not on manipulation or control, but on love, grace, and compassion.

I now have the privilege of walking alongside other women on their journeys, sharing the hope and healing I’ve found in Christ. And while the scars are still there, they are now a testament to His goodness, not a reminder of the pain.

Conclusion: A Journey of Healing

If you’re reading this and you’ve experienced the pain of a narcissistic mother, I want you to know that there is hope. I know how deep that hole can feel, how all-consuming the isolation can be. But there is One who can fill that emptiness, One who can heal even the most broken heart. His name is Jesus, and He’s waiting for you with open arms, just as He waited for me.

The journey isn’t easy, and the scars may remain, but in Him, you will find peace, purpose, and a love that no one can take away. You are not alone, and you are deeply, unconditionally loved.

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