I am the eighth of ten children, and, as you can imagine, there are many personalities, temperaments and challenges within such a large family. My eldest sibling has been estranged from me and my youngest sister for the last 7 years. Unfortunately, my eldest sibling has always been a consummate gaslighting narcissist. Our relationships completely deteriorated immediately after my father passed away. My eldest sibling did some incredibly damaging things to my youngest sister and I. She used manipulation and triangulation to alienate us and subject us to emotional abuse. My youngest sister and I were pretty much relegated to black-sheep status. I won’t go into the types of abuse – other than to say it was difficult – especially given that we had just held our father as he passed, and needed to support our mother through her profound loss and grief. Never had I thought things would escalate so quickly and so dramatically. Anyway, things continued to escalate, and we became estranged. Life went on, and I did my best to be a mother, daughter, sister, friend, colleague, etc. Life as a special needs parent, caring for a child with a disability, requires time, energy, compassion, strength and focus. So, knowing that I wasn’t being gaslit, or dangled on the end of an emotionally abusive yo-yo, gave me some solace.
Anyway, fast forward to last Saturday, when my youngest sister and I finally succumbed to my mum’s emotional request to organise a family/siblings get-together. We wanted to honour our mum, give her what she truly needed, especially given that she is getting older and who knows how many years she has left. She cried when we told her we would organise a family get-together, especially given that it had been more than 7 years since I had spoken to or seen my eldest sister. That is not to say that I hadn’t been subjected to her attempts at messages, calls, and insults. Or even those of her children that she had roped in.
Anyway, this Saturday, we finally met up. It was pretty surreal. My youngest sister and I (we were the organisers) showed up at the restaurant we’d booked, only to be told that the others (my eldest sibling) didn’t want that one and had chosen another on the day. So, not a great start. We chose that restaurant because it could cater for everyone’s dietary needs and was accessible for my mum. So, finally we got there, somewhat annoyed – but still swore to each other to smile, mask and make sure mum had a great night. We wanted mum to feel at peace. I even dressed that part, as I wore a yellow cardigan and bright, calming colours to help create a positive energy and vibe.
I was actually in a good mood, I felt confident and strong. I am a reserved ambivert, or introvert, so I am the opposite of the loud extrovert. I live in Sydney and had to travel up the coast for lunch, so I chose public transport because I didn’t want to drive. The trains had been replaced by buses due to trackwork. I stepped up into the 90% full bus, and shamefully tripped over (properly falling at the beginning of the Isle for everyone to see) instead of being incredibly shamed, I picked myself up, brushed myself off and said to the whole bus, “Now that’s how you make an entrance! Good morning, everyone!” I smiled, then slunk into a seat, laughing to myself, thinking, “Wow, I can’t believe I just did and said that.” I realised that I actually felt ok, I felt strong and capable – ready to endure the next few hours with a smile (of sorts)
Anyway, as you can see, I had an interesting experience on the way up to my family, so I felt mentally prepared for the next few hours. Plus, I had my youngest sister there backing me up, and the focus was on making sure mum was having a good time. Conversations were disjointed, superficial and challenging. My eldest sibling had invited a close friend to attend, and basically, that friend acted as an advocate all night. It was pretty comical. After dinner (my eldest sibling and I had not exchanged a single word), I kept my distance but remained calm and tried to vibe in a relaxed manner. There was no chance I was going to hug, especially given that she has not once apologised for the trauma she had caused after our father’s death. There has been no accountability for her actions, and my mum always made excuses for her actions, “your sister is hormonal, stressed, etc”
I had actually told my mother beforehand that I could not, or would not, hug my eldest sister, given the work that needed to be done to address the abuse and dozens of incidents since my Dad’s passing. Not just directed at me, but also at my youngest sister and other family members. Ok, shockingly, my sister completely disregards my choices. Lunges in for a hug – I say emphatically “Please DO NOT!” – she doesn’t listen, so I say it again “Please do not, I do not want this!” – She looks at me – smug, smirks and says “Well, too bad because I wanted it – and it made me feel better!”. I walk away in disbelief—reminded yet again of her need to dominate, to control the narrative. When I was younger (up until my early 20s), she was also physically abusive, but her greatest gift is in mind games. My youngest sister and mum were also disgusted by my eldest sibling’s complete disregard for my personal and emotional autonomy and for disrespecting my personal boundaries. Seriously, it was a choice not to stop. Thankfully, I had some sage on my person to help dispel some of her energy.
So, describing my sibling, she is a malignant narcissist. She has the ability to manipulate, charm and love-bomb. She has the potential to control the narrative, making it fit her needs and desires. She isn’t loyal, she isn’t compassionate. She stands in complete contrast to the qualities of my mum, Dad, and younger sister. She doesn’t understand the importance of keeping a secret or protecting younger siblings from hurt. Imperative things. She lies and manipulates. It leaves me asking, “How can family members have the same blood coursing through our bodies, yet be so diametrically opposed to each other?” “How can some family members be loving, compassionate and generous – loyal to a tee, yet others fail to care for others apart from themselves?” “What is the difference between nature and nurture?” and so on.
Some of you reading this may think, “Why couldn’t you just hug her back?” and I say: because 7 years have passed —7 years of growth, healing, self-love, and self-compassion. I have changed, grown and become a better version of myself. I healed from the trauma of narcissistic abuse. I became a fully functioning adult, no longer trying to live on the end of the yo-yo. By cutting out that abusive connection, I learned to heal and redirect that energy towards my family and self. If my sibling genuinely wanted to respect and reconnect with me, she should have asked, “Is it ok if I hug you?” or, conversely, given me the grace and space to make the first move. That way, the choice would have been mine, not hers to violate. It’s so much more than just a hug. She is 10 years older than I am and played a significant role in my childhood and in my understanding of myself, life, and expectations. I loved her dearly, until I finally realised the extent of her abuse and denial.
Selectively Juggling 
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