18 thoughts on “Narcissistic Invalidation: Even Your Tastebuds Are Wrong!

  • March 2, 2018 at 5:12 pm

    Omg, Focus on the Family. That’s where my parents learned to parent, too. Ugh. When I was 8 or so they made salisbury steak. I didn’t like it of course, so I chose my usual punishment of no dessert and sitting at the dinner table all by myself until bedtime. The next day we had a five hour drive to my grandma’s surprise birthday party. They set my plate from the night before in my lap so I could eat it while we drove. That was to be my only food– breakfast, lunch, and dinner– until I finished it. I kept trying to make myself vomit on the plate so I could get out of eating it, but it didn’t work. My dad talked about all the yummy food that would be at this party– it was a huge catered event with at least 100 guests. He threatened to bring the plate to the party and make sure everyone was instructed not to let me eat anything but this piece of salisbury steak. Luckily I was saved by my moms friend, who’s house we stopped at on the way to the party. When my dad left the room she and my mom made me eat two more bites and then threw the rest away.

  • March 3, 2018 at 3:40 am

    In all your posts in which you reminisce on your personal experiences at the hand of the narcs in your life, you hit on so many which ring loud bells with my own memories of that dreadful fate. One’s taste in foods is only one of so many like that.

    I particularly like your posts in which you make fun of the narcs’ idiotic behaviours and attitudes. It has serious value.

  • March 3, 2018 at 12:54 pm

    Dear Lenora and Friends, these fundie WOLVES (scarfing down the donuts, while their families eat…ugh!) make me wanna vomit! Bright side is, i heard a preacher responding to one of these mangey luzers – who wouldn’t trouble himself to step up to the plate and provide for his wife and children (a.k.a. buy some REAL food and share it with them) – the preacher said something like this to some pee-wee: “the government, the president, aren’t the problem, YOU’RE the problem (gedda better job, you lazy arse)!”

  • March 3, 2018 at 4:50 pm

    The hopefully soon to be ex narc cooked (he got rid of our gas stove because he liked the antique wood stove better than paying for propane, it took hours to get the stove hot and keep it hot, resulting in undercooked meals, burned meals and other cooking mistakes on my end) well it started out with using red hot pepper flakes he’d use in every meal, he’d laugh at me if I started choking on the food instead of using less of the pepper he’d use more and laugh more, he invited people over to taste his delicious food and for them to see me struggling to get something in my empty belly.. There weren’t to many alternatives to his food, no food due no money, no vehicle (repossessed due no money) to get groceries, no power = no fridge = no fresh food if there was any food… needless to say that I was underweight and went to bed every night with a growling stomach. BTW all the money that I had to get from my parents in Germany in order to exist was, spend on his drugs!

    • March 3, 2018 at 8:07 pm

      Dear Connie, these pioneer-wannabees are truely nauseating. Hope you get free of that worthless sack of dung, and are able to enjoy real food.

  • March 4, 2018 at 1:46 am

    I grew up in a Christian family, fortunately my mom was a fairly decent cook. We were each allowed one food to hate and not have to eat. I stilllll hate canned beets to this day. Well, we often parent in the same style we were raised in. It wasn’t until after my kids were grown and gone (and years of confusion and hard research) when I finally figured out that Christian fundamentalism is all CRAP!!!!!! I am NOT a narcissist and I seriously regret reading those dammed Dr. James Dobson books!! Sooooo sorry, my darling babies… I did the best I could…

    • March 4, 2018 at 8:34 pm

      Dear dubdub, Dobson and the Pearls give me the willies. Actually, people like that running their salvation-by-works rubbish, are a main reason why people walk away from Christ. I probably mentioned this before in a previous comment, but doggoneit, people like that seem to be way more interested in publishing books and getting speaking engagements (and staying at the Holiday) than they are about the eternal destiny of their readers.

  • March 4, 2018 at 8:55 am

    I can identify with this taste bud shaming very well. My father came from Hungary and insisted that all foods be cooked with green peppers tomatoes and paprika. My two brothers and I could barely stomach any of the concoctions that my mother who was from Brooklyn and didn’t know what thing about cooking would throw together. Every meal was torture. And as punishment for making a complaint or not being able to eat the food, we were made to kneel in corners nearly every night of our childhood. Stealing into eating dog food was a survival mechanism. Each night we all offered to Kneel in the corner where the dog food bag set several feet away and just wait for our chance to steal a piece or two and roll it across the floor to the two who did not have access to the dog food. I will never forget when I was preschool age and being forced to eat an omelette with onions and peppers and whatever else was in it and saying I can’t eat it it’s making me sick and then lo and behold after I had finished the whole plate of goop I got up to go down the basement and play and I threw up all over the floor and of course had to clean it up before I could play.

  • March 5, 2018 at 2:53 am

    A resounding yes. Ox tongue with white (flour) sauce. Sitting at the table after they had gone to bed but too frightened to leave the table in case I was caught. Even forcing medicine down my throat – doctors confirmed I was allergic to it after 3 days.

  • March 5, 2018 at 10:09 pm

    I relate so much to this! I can’t believe this is yet another facet of their sickness. My mother would make this repulsive dish she called “Garlic Beef and Rice”. It was a box mix of beef flavored rice (gross already) and some chopped up flank steak she flavored with garlic powder. I hated it so much and she knew it. She’d even say “I know you hate this, but that’s what’s for dinner.” I would choke it down with the milk trick too. She also told me that was all Chinese food and since we never got takeout, I thought I hated Chinese food until I met my husband, who, like yours opened a whole world of food for me and appreciates all my cooking. My mother also tried to convince me I was a completely inept chef, even hosting a bridal shower for me with that theme. I received menus and demonstrations on boiling water.

    I didn’t realize how dysfunctional my family was until I had children of my own and let my mother babysit. When I picked them up, she raved about how my children just looooove the Garlic Beef and Rice she made them.

    Food issues are just once element to this insanity. No contact is the only way to save myself, my amazing husband and my precious children.

  • March 7, 2018 at 7:03 am

    Brussel Sprouts – mushy boiled mini cabbages that 40 years later make me wretch at even the faintest smell of them. Love them if you fo but to me they were worse than anything in life I was forced to eat

  • March 21, 2018 at 3:10 am

    I thought for so long that I was a picky eater. Turns out she’s just a terrible cook. My two least favorites would have to be canned mushrooms or canned spinach with no real spice or flavor. Just that God awful slime…

  • March 26, 2018 at 8:22 am

    One of the neighbor’s told her that the shelf fungi growing on the tree trunks were good to eat. So she cut one off the tree, boiled it, skimmed off the worms, sliced it up, and put it into the spaghetti sauce. She neglected to tell us this until after we were all happily eating the spaghetti, at which point she told her whole story while laughing hilariously. We were all old enough by then to be seriously brainwashed and obedient robots so none of us wretched or left the table. But a lot of those shrooms got left on the plates after that.

  • March 26, 2018 at 9:42 pm

    It was milk for me. I did not like how it made so much mucus. But even worse was, my brother and I were home all summer together while mother worked. We would literally have spaghetti noodles and plain tomato sauce. That’s what we ate for lunches every day all summer. Sometimes we’d have Parmesan and maybe Italian spices but a lot of times we wouldn’t. Meanwhile, mother went to Nordstrom’s to buy herself nice clothes. I’d see many clothing items with tags still on them in her closet but we barely had food. Oh and she’d buy herself soda every week…

  • January 11, 2019 at 5:42 am

    Ok, I can’t believe somebody actually said it. The narc food control issue. When I was Three, 3, my mother gave me a plate with a whole fish on it and I mean eyes, tail, find etc, and expected me to eat it. I just looked at her like she had three heads. Finally she decided to expend the energy to pull out some edible flesh for me. But I was forever labelled a fussy eater. I hated fish my whole childhood because it was not the only time my Nm served fish with bones intact. I was terrified of choking on a fish bone. For a real good reason. I could fill a book with my mothers insane food behaviour but essentially meal times were hell. Every meal time every day. She hated cooking, fell into a vile mood whenever she was actually expected to cook and very quickly gave me the responsibility of cooking when she decided to go out and work full time because it was far more glamorous than staying at home and being there for her small children.

  • January 12, 2019 at 3:30 pm

    Yep; sitting at the dinner table for hours because I had to learn to eat and “love” what I disliked (or rather, what gagged and nauseated me) as a child, being told my young daughters were disgusting when they ate maple syrup on pancakes because they poured it wrong, made a mess and ate so sloppily. And I never taught them ” proper manners” for eating. Being pitted against my daughters when they were young because they enjoyed making cookies with their grandmother when I hadn’t. My mother prided herself on being the “absolute best cook and baker of anyone” she knew, expecting praise for every meal, and entering baking contests where if she didn’t get 1st prize it meant she had an “off day”. She forever bragged that her mother’s bread drew neighbours from miles around and that was the only thing she wasn’t good at. My mother’s cooking was bland, okay, and some stuff she made really well, some was awful enough it turned me off for life (like fish). I never wanted to learn cooking/baking from her because I would never ever meaure up to her standards of being “good”, but of course I didn’t have her “skills”. It took me many years and trusting comments from others that I learned I cooked and baked really well in fact! Even now, most of my baking is “from a box and add water” though, lol. One of my daughters, who does actually have incredible abilities with food, took her life passion to college and career excelling with this! My mother refuses to recognize, validate, praise anything that my daughter has done or is, and instead ignores, demeans, criticizes all of my daughter’s choices and accomplishments.
    This is all one very tiny aspect of my FOO, and is it any wonder why I am very low contact/no contact with them…

  • January 13, 2019 at 3:24 pm

    Insane food behaviour. Oh yeah , my mom liked to over cook everything. Whip leather steak and greasy vegetables. My cat loved her string beans because they were so greasy with pork fat ( cats are obligate carnivores) . Her reaction to me not liking her cooking was to tell me that I was fat ( ????) I was 20 pounds underweight and pretty much borderline anorexic for most of my childhood and teen years . Honestly I didn’t mind being skinny ( this was when Twiggy was a top model )but I was so underweight that I had trouble opening heavy doors . I finally got to 100lbs when I was about 15 and I’m a little taller than average. I love raw veggies and well done meat , well done not over cooked. The constant complaints about how much I ate were emotionally draining as I was fairly active , I loved dance and you can’t do that unless you’re adequately nourished. So I either wasn’t eating her tasteless boring food or she’d complain that I was eating too much if I cooked my own food. You can’t win .she was like this about colour too . The crayon colours I loved as a little kid were too loud . Red my fav at the time was the devils color, By my teens I was in blue brown and pastels . Which I hated . she REFUSED to let me buy my own clothes . My love for colour never stopped so I painted . She’d destroyed most of my paintings sometimes before they’d even finish drying or when I’d go to the bathroom to pee.


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