Chapter 6 - The Facebook Drama
Narcissists, when stripped of their power, will always turn to playing the victim in public.
On Sunday morning, while Leo was watching cartoons on the couch, my phone started blowing up with screenshots from extended family members and old high school friends.
My mother had taken to Facebook.
She posted a long, multi-paragraph diatribe accompanied by a black-and-white photo of her and my father looking solemn.
> "It is with a broken heart that we are facing a terrible family tragedy this holiday season. Sometimes, the children you raise turn their backs on you when you need them most. We poured our blood, sweat, and tears into building a legacy, only to have it destroyed by a vindictive, ungrateful daughter who has chosen to keep our beloved grandson away from us over a simple misunderstanding. Please pray for our family during this devastating financial and emotional crisis."
The comments were a chorus of enablers. Oh honey, I'm so sorry. Kids today have no respect! Stay strong!
I stared at the screen, my blood boiling. It was the ultimate manipulation. She was controlling the narrative, painting me as the villain to preserve her social standing.
My thumb hovered over the keyboard. I could post the truth. I could tell everyone about the slap, about the secret loans, about the financial abuse.
But I looked up at Leo. He was laughing at something on the TV, his face bright and unburdened. Engaging in a public mudslinging contest wouldn't protect him; it would just drag us both into the dirt with them.
Instead of replying on Facebook, I forwarded the screenshot to Marcus.
May you like
Draft a cease and desist, I texted him. Include a defamation clause. If she posts about me or Leo again, we sue for libel and release the financial documents proving they committed bank fraud.
The post was deleted less than two hours later.
