I have to admit it. I didn't want to. At upsi's blog, Jasmine pointed it out in her comment, but it seemed excessive at the time. Now I have to acknowledge it.
When he promised me money if I didn't cry at the dentist's when I was little, he was in fact prostituting me.
He was so proud of the fact that his little girl was so brave when getting injections, vaccines, and dental work. It got him positive attention from doctors and nurses. So he started insisting on it.
I remember the time I was getting a vaccine at age 5 and there was a sweet-looking nurse there. I realize now she was also pretty attractive, a young blonde. Well, as if I wasn't nervous enough, he told me not to cry, whatever I did! Then I heard him brag to her about how brave I was and how I never cried when I got shots. Naturally, the pressure was too much and I cried.
I remember the nurse was sweet and I remember wishing I was alone with her and I remember thinking I wouldn't have cried then.
He was broody and quiet towards me for a while after that. After all, I made him look ridiculous in front of the pretty nurse.
At the dentist's that time, I also failed him. The sheer pressure of it was the culprit again. He promised me 0.50$ if I didn't cry. I cried. I was devastated about disappointing him. I thought he was the most forgiving, the most magnanimous, the most wonderful father in the world when he coldly, frowningly, grudgingly took out 0.20$ and gave it to me later. I told him I didn't deserve it. He agreed, but gave it to me anyway, out of the pure generosity of his spirit.
Having kids of my own now, I can't imagine seeing anyone's reaction to what they do or say as more important than their actual feelings and thoughts at the time. I feel like I'm betraying them even if a nice, sweet doctor takes a look at their throat or ear, and it's not very pleasant, and I'm holding them to make the examination possible. Now I see his behavior for what it is: prostituting his daughter. Using her body for his ulterior motives. His narcissistic supply.
When he promised me money if I didn't cry at the dentist's when I was little, he was in fact prostituting me.
He was so proud of the fact that his little girl was so brave when getting injections, vaccines, and dental work. It got him positive attention from doctors and nurses. So he started insisting on it.
I remember the time I was getting a vaccine at age 5 and there was a sweet-looking nurse there. I realize now she was also pretty attractive, a young blonde. Well, as if I wasn't nervous enough, he told me not to cry, whatever I did! Then I heard him brag to her about how brave I was and how I never cried when I got shots. Naturally, the pressure was too much and I cried.
I remember the nurse was sweet and I remember wishing I was alone with her and I remember thinking I wouldn't have cried then.
He was broody and quiet towards me for a while after that. After all, I made him look ridiculous in front of the pretty nurse.
At the dentist's that time, I also failed him. The sheer pressure of it was the culprit again. He promised me 0.50$ if I didn't cry. I cried. I was devastated about disappointing him. I thought he was the most forgiving, the most magnanimous, the most wonderful father in the world when he coldly, frowningly, grudgingly took out 0.20$ and gave it to me later. I told him I didn't deserve it. He agreed, but gave it to me anyway, out of the pure generosity of his spirit.
Having kids of my own now, I can't imagine seeing anyone's reaction to what they do or say as more important than their actual feelings and thoughts at the time. I feel like I'm betraying them even if a nice, sweet doctor takes a look at their throat or ear, and it's not very pleasant, and I'm holding them to make the examination possible. Now I see his behavior for what it is: prostituting his daughter. Using her body for his ulterior motives. His narcissistic supply.
I'm sorry all this awful stuff happened to you. Your NF should be locked up and forgotten.
ReplyDeleteWhen my NF preached in church, three times a week for years, I always felt so angry and miserable. One of his favorite ways to keep us under his thumb was to tell embarrassing stories about what we three kids did sometime in the past...to a rapt audience of a hundred or so people we hardly knew, usually seated behind us!
I felt violated in the worst way, like every time I *voluntarily* walked to church, I was saying, in essence...I'm nothing, shame me (aka bending over and taking it, ugh). I hate him and my mother for helping him do this to me and my brothers.
Experiencing this form of abuse over and over again, is how I knew what your NF was actually doing to you years ago. Isn't it just pathetic how unique all these Ns think they are, when they're all just rusty old cookie cutter versions of each other...YAWN:D
On a happy note, my heart is glad for you and your children:) Doesn't it feel good to show your kids how much you love them?
No words can ever describe how wonderful I feel listening to, hugging and helping my son. I'm so relieved to be nothing like my self-centered parents (ok yes, I do have a couple N fleas:). Keep blogging away:D
I'll admit it. Your headline, when I saw it, shocked me. As an SA survivor, who felt like "a whore" in the more traditional sense, I was even slightly offended.
ReplyDeleteBut yes, what you describe would meet that definition. I'm sorry you were made to feel humiliated, your own bodily autonomy was taken away, and N Dad bribed you. I am sorry that you were subjected to his terrible behavior, and happy that you are aware, and are breaking free.
Thanks for writing. Your blog is inspiring and liberating to read. I second Jasmine – keep at it!
WAB, I had no intention of offending legitimate survivors of SA. My headline was based on having to agree with Jasmine's qualification of what took place. The "whore" part signifies my voluntary participation in his use of me as an object, which I have to confront. I'd never characterize it as "rape", for instance, because I willingly played my part, against my true feelings, and got paid, usually not with money, but with his attention and "love". It has more to do with my voluntary surrender of my integrity as a person - the ownership of my body and its reaction is just a part of it. This is predominantly in my mind when I think "whore". That's why I used it. If it is offensive,I'll change it.
ReplyDeleteYes, it's offensive - but in a way that is thought-provoking and probably very effectively describes how you felt. The question – was your participation voluntary? As a child of a Narc?
ReplyDeleteAnother blogger (can't remember which one) talked about her N Mom bragging to a friend of hers about a summer exchange program her daughter went on in Italy, and said daughter was present. The program was totally made up. When asked about it by the friend, daughter did not say, "No, I never went there", but just smiled and nodded. Was that voluntary participation in a lie? Hardly.
There is always a rudimentary residue of choice involved, however difficult it may be for us to realize it and then make a choice that will lose us the "love" of our N parents and unleash their rage. Those of us who did make some choices like these are the ones who didn't turn into Ns ourselves, I like to believe. I guess I have to acknowledge my need to both feel strong and proud over the choices that separated me from the world of my N father AND feel bad over the choices where I "sold" my integrity to him.
ReplyDeleteI give us credit as children of Ns - we CAN make choices. And could as children. We weren't guilty as such, but it doesn't hurt to assume responsibility for the choices we made. Some people raised in Hitler's Germany grew up NOT to be good Nazi soldiers.
Yes, we do have some amount of choice. As in many situations, the choices that are available to children with (a) narc parent(s) are very limited, and every choice carries significant disadvantages. Not turning into a Narc ourselves is a choice we made every day, and continue to, as I am slowly coming to realize.
ReplyDeleteReflecting on those times you "sold" your integrity to him, as you put it, must be healing in some sense? With reflection comes realization why you did it, and also knowing that there is no longer a need to be a slave to N Dad. I have strongly felt that, on my own journey, understanding is key. Understanding means I can fight my own N urges (Yes, often I think I have some, and it makes me sick), and it means making peace with the manner in which I deal with the N in my life.
Very insightful points and questions, WAB. I think they deserve another post. See you there? :)
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