Susan - A Closet Narcissist 

Susan is a 59 year old woman. She’s quietly spoken, with a gentle manner. Susan comes across as articulate and thoughtful, and she dresses her plumpish figure appropriately and smartly in good quality clothes. She gives to charity, puts £20 notes into the hands of homeless people, and donates her delicious cakes to the cake stall at the local fete.

You won’t find Susan out of doors without full, expertly applied makeup, even just for a trip to the supermarket, and her hair will be perfectly coiffed any time she leaves the house, without exception. She’s just a perfectly nice woman, who listens to Radio 4, reads romance novels and never misses her favourite soap opera. Even though she’s nearly sixty, she still talks with a bubbling up, childlike excitement about the things she enjoys, which in recent years has started to look a little incongruent. But still, she seems kind. Giving. The very image of a devoted mother, grandmother and wife.

Susan came from a normal working class background, but she knew that she was destined for greater things, and decided from an early age to lift herself into a better social class.

If you ask her parents they will tell you that, as a teenager, Susan lost all traces of her Yorkshire accent and began speaking the Queen’s English. In fact, so different was her accent to all those her around her, including her three siblings, that her nickname  became “The Lady”. She loved Royalty and took great interest in what the princesses of the day were doing and wearing. Her mother sensed that Susan felt that she had been born into the wrong family, and was ashamed of them, although Susan never actually said this. 

Susan left school at 16, with a few basic qualifications, but she wanted more for her life than just to stay in the town in which she grew up. She applied herself to diligently learning typing and secretarial skills and, a few years later, secured a job as a secretary in a small solicitor’s firm, in the South of England, miles away from her family.

Within weeks, Susan had become romantically involved with one of the married partners at the firm. Roger was 20 years older than Susan, and within a year he had left his wife and children to be with Susan. It was a whirlwind romance, and Susan had made sure she was to Robert everything his wife was not, throwing herself 100% into her role as the perfect partner for him. 

Susan believed she was the envy of her peers and family, especially as she had unlimited access to Robert's money. She made sure she only sampled the most expensive things on the menu in restaurants, and bought clothes from the best boutiques. She delighted in buying Wedgewood china for their home and made sure Robert’s wardrobe had all the accoutrements befitting of such a high status man. Designer silk ties, expensive cufflinks, handmade shoes - all the things his wife hadn’t deemed him important enough to have.

She didn’t object when Roger bought her a new top of the range car, but she would quietly tell other people that she was embarrassed about driving it as it felt like she was showing off. This became a pattern, Susan always managing to subtly find fault with things, albeit in her gentle, self-effacing, ‘I’m not good enough’ sort of way. He should have given the flowers he bought her to his mother as they were her favourite blooms; she’d feel too self conscious to wear the stunning diamond necklace he’d bought (although she’d casually drop it into conversation with others); the surprise pamper day at the spa was a lovely treat but not her sort of thing, and so on.

Susan quickly became the ‘hostess with the mostest’, initially winning favour with Robert’s friends, but she never seemed to make any meaningful friendships of her own. By way of explanation, she would tell Robert that his friends’ wives were jealous of her youth and of the fact that she had won him . Flattered, he accepted this.

After a year or so, Robert started try to encourage Susan to take up a hobby in order to make some friends, but Susan would resist, making up excuse after excuse. Unknown to him, Susan would moan to her family about how desperate she was to take an evening art class and join a book club, but how she felt that Robert would be upset with her if she went out. Susan was an expert at playing the victim, telling others how she was missing out under guise of putting someone else’s needs above her own. This was a pattern that continued throughout her life and interactions with others.

The reality was that it was Susan who didn’t like Roger going out in the evenings or weekends. Whilst initially she supported his interests, telling him how much she admired him for them, and cheering at the finish lines of his running and cycling races, once she felt secure in their relationship, she grew tired of them. She would go quiet when it was time for him to go out, and would barely speak to him for 24 hours afterwards, although she would tell him, monosyllabically that it was fine, and that nothing was wrong.

Roger, a sensitive soul, couldn’t stand these silent treatments, and slowly gave up his hobbies, including his longstanding poker night with pals. Susan was delighted, and rewarded him with wonderful romantic dinners and passionate nights on the evenings when he would have previously been out. Roger’s young partner had him hooked, and he ignored his gut instinct that something was off. He even found himself cutting himself off from any of his friends who tried to broach the subject of Susan’s isolating behaviour. In time, Roger became drawn into Susan's romantic notion that it was ‘the two of them against the world’, and they didn’t need anyone else in their lives.

At parties and work-related social events, Susan would dance with other men, and Roger was driven to distraction by it. He felt that Susan was leading the men on, and jealousy tore at his heart. But Susan would be hurt and upset by his accusations, saying that she was just being friendly, and berating him for not trusting her.

Susan always made a point of being outraged by other people’s immoral behaviour, judging them harshly for anything that didn’t measure up to her high moral standards. Roger felt terrible about his ‘crazy,’ jealous behaviour, and would aways end up apologising, even though Susan was getting a reputation as a flirt amongst the wives of his work colleagues. They had also noticed her quietly superior attitude, and her inability to really connect with them in spite of her friendly exterior.

On the other hand, if Roger was to so much as be friendly to a waitress, Susan would wait until they got home and then play the injured party, accusing him of infidelity and of not loving her, with much quiet sobbing. She'd move into the spare room for days on these occasions, punishing Robert, under the guise of licking her wounds. Her double standards were never noticed by Roger, and Susan would tell him that as he had been unfaithful to his wife with her, he was the one that couldn’t be trusted. 

Although Susan had been wonderful with his young children for their brief visits, Roger had still not made an official commitment to her and was still not divorced. They had been together for 3 years, and Roger had started to question whether he was happy in his new world, which seemed a lot smaller than before. As soon as Susan realised this, she got pregnant, forcing Roger to do the ‘right thing’ and divorce his wife. However, he was still reticent about remarrying, even though he now had a newborn son.

The birth had been a long and traumatic affair, and Susan revelled in telling stories about it, although she still referred to it as the best day of her life. She carries the baby’s hospital wristband around with her in her handbag to this day, even though Sebastian is now grown up - a clear token of her commitment to her family and motherhood, to be shown to anyone she wants to impress with her perfect family values.

But regarding the lack of a marriage proposal from Roger, Susan felt utterly humiliated. One day, when the baby was having his nap, and Roger was due home, she wrote a suicide note, explaining this, and swallowed a non-fatal dose of paracetomol. A shocked Roger rushed her to the hospital, where she had her stomach pumped, and she was diagnosed with post natal depression.

In the months following this attempt, Susan had three very early miscarriages. Roger felt terrible, and gave her all the attention and support he could. She was already finding it difficult to look after baby Sebastian, but Roger stepped up, hiring a nanny in the daytime, and looking after Sebastian himself when he got home from work. With the benefit of hindsight, Roger wonders whether these miscarriages were real, or whether they were just another play for attention from Susan. It’s unlikely he will ever know the truth.

Just 16 months after Sebastian was born, Susan gave birth to another son, Henry, who was to become the apple of her eye. Susan cried and cried about the fact that Robert still didn’t want to marry her, wearing him down, and a few weeks after the birth, she gave him an ultimatum. Marriage or she would leave and make it difficult to see his children again.

Gutted and confused, but with no one left to confide in, Robert felt he had no choice. They married soon afterwards in a small legal ceremony with only Susan’s parents present. Robert felt that everybody thought badly of him for taking so long to marry Susan, causing her so much pain, and he was ridden with guilt and ambivalence about the marriage. Susan would capitalise on this for years, bringing it up whenever she didn’t get her way. She is beaming on the wedding photos, but Robert looks pained and drawn.

As soon as they were married, Susan started to make it difficult for Roger’s older children from his first marriage to visit. He was confused by this as Susan had once appeared to dote on them. If they ever did come to the house, she would perfectly play her role of caring, friendly stepmother, whilst digging for details of their home, holidays and lives. She was so convincing that Roger's children began to wonder whether it was their father who didn't want to see them.

Once they’d left Susan would quietly express her concerns and worries about how their mother was bringing them up and spoiling them to Roger, whilst making a big show of clearing up the house after them, scrubbing every surface excessively. She was  particularly aggrieved if they kept any of their belongings at her house, making little digs about the ‘inconvenience’ every now and then. The implication that everyone was taking advantage of her hospitality and generous nature hung thick and heavy in the air, although somehow Susan got away with never actually saying this.

Susan was sure from the day that both Sebastian and Henry were born that they were destined for great things, and would one day follow in their father’s footsteps as a great lawyer. Even as babies, she would dress them up in little suits. But when Sebastian had been at school for a few years, it became clear to his teachers that he was behind on his reading, and they asked Susan and Roger if they would consider having little Sebastian tested for dyslexia. Susan was disgusted at the suggestion, and felt that the school were victimising Sebastian. She had both children moved to a fee-paying school, on the understanding that dyslexia was never brought up again by the teachers. Susan seemed to be the expert on these things, having taken over the bulk of the parenting, so Roger just went along with it, as he now often found himself doing.

The boys were to have all the opportunities that Susan herself never had, and they were rushed between extracurricular activities in their spare time. Violin lessons, rugby, swimming, tennis, golf, sailing - anything and everything that she considered to be the preserve of the upper-middle classes. They were expected to be in the best teams for all sports, and to try out for national teams where possible. Robert was initially concerned by her pushiness, but genuinely believed her when she explained that she only had their best interests at heart. The children never paused for breath, and were so busy that they never questioned Susan’s motives until the rebellion of their late teens.

Susan was to be disappointed at every turn by Sebastian’s academic difficulties, but she insisted that if he worked harder he would still be able to become a lawyer. Henry was an able boy with no reading difficulties, however, and it became clear to Sebastian that Henry was her ‘golden child’. Sebastian grew up resenting his mother more and more and, aged 16, begged her to allow him to have a test for dyslexia. She refused, saying that it was unnecessary.

It became clear to Sebastian over time that his mother could not accept him as being anything less than perfect, as it reflected badly on her. He never did achieve academically, and left school to start an apprenticeship as a builder, much to Susan’s disdain and embarrassment, especially as Roger’s children from his previous marriage had gone on to have high flying careers. Sebastian felt like his ‘failures’ were seen as a deliberate and personal affront to his mother, and he will tell you that his self esteem and confidence were non-existent for years.   

When the boys grew up and had their own partners and children, Susan would beg them to allow her to babysit, and would send numerous lonely sounding text messages saying how much she missed them. But when the day came for her to babysit her grandchildren, she would always complain to the other son about how put upon, used and unappreciated she felt.

She would make comments about her daughter-in-laws' child-rearing methods to Roger and to her sons, always under the guise of concern, and she took great delight in ‘worrying’ about the grandchildren’s diet and her daughter-in-law’s post-baby weight. She would be perturbed about the size of their houses, and would constantly be asking when they would be moving, to give the grandchildren more space.

It seemed to Susan that she had the weight of the world on her shoulders with all her worry. If you talk to her now, she will sigh and tell you how difficult her life is, having to look after her ailing elderly parents (who lives many miles away, and are actually being taken care of by her sisters), her babysitting duties regarding her grandchildren (who she only actually now sees once a month, and never to babysit) and looking after Roger (who although he is now nearly 80, is very physically fit).

Susan complains that Roger doesn’t like to drive as much as he used to, and is resentful of the fact that she is now married to an old man. This causes a great deal of tension between them as Susan says she doesn’t like to drive in the dark or on unfamiliar roads. She even plans all her drives so that she doesn’t have make any right turns. She insists that Roger continues to do most of the driving, even though his eyesight is failing, but she seems perfectly able to drive under these circumstances when motivated.

Roger has been miserable for years, but realises that he is too old to leave Susan. She continues to go silent when hurt, to play the victim, and to make snide comments. When her children do visit, she will always start an argument at the dinner table, by moaning about how unfair Roger is being to her, knowing that Henry, her favourite son, will leap to her defence and verbally attack his father. Her mission to cause drama complete, she then leaves the table to go to bed, whilst a heated argument ensues. Nothing to do with her, of course.

Of course, Susan is a closet  narcissist.

Softly spoken, but passive aggressive, controlling and manipulative. Superficially self-effacing. Flawlessly acting her role as the endlessly giving victim. Playing one person off another, and being quietly judgemental, veiling this as concern for others. Striving for perfection in her children, who she sees as merely an extension of herself, and creating drama and tension stealthily. Offering only conditional love.  Behind closed doors, the long-suffering daughter, mother, grandmother and wife, who puts the best interests of others above all else. Believing in the fantasy of perfect romantic love, and being painfully wounded when Robert fails to deliver this. Projecting an image of the perfect happy family to the outside world, and believing that others are jealous of everything that she has.  Secretly believing she is morally and intellectually superior to others, although with no real evidence. Associating only with people she considers to be successful, in order to elevate her own status. And all the while, presenting a quietly charming exterior to the world, contradicted by the fact that she has no real friendships at all.