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I’m just getting into this discussion late. Better late than never? I strongly believe my dad was a covert narc. When I was a teenager I remember wondering why my dad loved telling me that I “was nothing but a little Bit*h” each and every time he got mad? And I asked my friends once at a sleep over how many times their dad called them bad names? They looked at me with blank looks. He would follow up his emotional outbursts with “family” meetings where he would, in front of my mother and siblings, deny and minimize his outbursts and justify any of his misperceived as inappropriate behavior by him exaggerating mine. He was in his late 40s and I was either 13, 15, 17 etc.. but it was absolutely clear I was to be the bigger person. His favorite tactic to use to punish friends, family, me was the silent treatment. For some these lasted for years and “all they would have to do is apologise” to get back into his good graces again. You’d think these people did something really really horrible, but you’d be wrong. All manipulation. I can’t think of how many times my dad would use the fact that his dad died from a sudden heart attach while my dad was 13 and at school against my siblings and me. There were two times I didn’t do what my dad wanted me to do and he outright said, “actions speak louder than words and it’s obvious you (me) don’t want to be part of this family… You need to feel what it feels like to lose a father like I went through and maybe you’ll appreciate me and this family more.” One time he ghosted my for two weeks, the second time was due two months. What did I do that was so wrong, you may wonder? The first time I picked spending the holidays with my boyfriend’s family (who I ended up getting engaged to and marrying a few months after). The second time he frosted me out of his life with the same reasoning for two solid months. I had to cancel a lunch date with my dad due to needing to get to the bank because my checking account was hacked into and I had to file a police report. But somehow my cancelling emasculated him. No empathy for me was ever ever ever expressed even when I had to go to court. Fast forward to three years-ish before he died. He tried to install my husband as his scapegoat and I was to have none of it.. I didn’t yell at him, call him names. I just firmly held my ground and gave him concrete examples of why I disagreed. For disagreeing, my dad lied about my involvement to anyone and everyone who would listen; telling them I started yelling at him and calling him names out of the blue for no reason! In fact, this is what he told my husband when he confronted him! Then, he wrote me, my husband and his ONLY two grandchildren (my 3yo and 4 yo at the time) as dead for SIX MONTHS. Looking back, as painful as it was, I needed the six months away from him. At the end, I was in a much healthier, better place and had a clear picture of exactly how I wanted to proceed with him along with great support from my husband and therapist. It was SO SAD BUT VALIDATING to see my husband finally have the wrapping paper striped off my dad and see him for the manipulative lier that he was! After, one of the BEST tactics I employed with him at the suggestion of my therapist: if he asked how we were, how work was going, how the cars were running, etc., my reply to everything was “fine” and versions of fine. Never good, never bad, never any details for him to use against us or in his favor. My dad died suddenly about three years after that. That has been almost a year ago he died. I am 41. In the end, I truly respected, liked, admired my dad and found him funny. I did not ever trust him and found it was best for us all if I kept him at arm’s length. There’s times where I miss so much about him but then, the relief I feel from not having the biggest bully present in my life is profound. I wasn’t a perfect daughter and I couldn’t be because the bar he set was so impossibly high. I always failed him. It didn’t matter that I was vale dictorianI’m just getting into this diisscussion late. Better late than never? I strongly believe my dad was a covert narc. When I was a teenager I remember wondering why my dad loved telling me that I “was nothing but a little Bit*h” each and every time he got mad? And I asked my friends once at a sleep over how many times their dad called them bad names? They looked at me with blank looks. He would follow up his emotional outbursts with “family” meetings where he would, in front of my mother and siblings, deny and minimize his outbursts and justify any of his misperceived as inappropriate behavior by him exaggerating mine. He was in his late 40s and I was either 13, 15, 17 etc.. but it was absolutely clear I was to be the bigger person. His favorite tactic to use to punish friends, family, me was the silent treatment. For some these lasted for years and “all they would have to do is apologise” to get back into his good graces again. You’d think these people did something really really horrible, but you’d be wrong. All manipulation. I can’t think of how many times my dad would use the fact that his dad died from a sudden heart attach while my dad was 13 and at school against my siblings and me. There were two times I didn’t do what my dad wanted me to do and he outright said, “actions speak louder than words and it’s obvious you (me) don’t want to be part of this family… You need to feel what it feels like to lose a father like I went through and maybe you’ll appreciate me and this family more.” One time he ghosted my for two weeks, the second time was due two months. What did I do that was so wrong, you may wonder? The first time I picked spending the holidays with my boyfriend’s family (who I ended up getting engaged to and marrying a few months after). The second time he frosted me out of his life with the same reasoning for two solid months. I had to cancel a lunch date with my dad due to needing to get to the bank because my checking account was hacked into and I had to file a police report. But somehow my cancelling emasculated him. No empathy for me was ever ever ever expressed even when I had to go to court. Fast forward to three years-ish before he died. He tried to install my husband as his scapegoat and I was to have none of it.. I didn’t yell at him, call him names. I just firmly held my ground and gave him concrete examples of why I disagreed. For disagreeing, my dad lied about my involvement to anyone and everyone who would listen; telling them I started yelling at him and calling him names out of the blue for no reason! In fact, this is what he told my husband when he confronted him! Then, he wrote me, my husband and his ONLY two grandchildren (my 3yo and 4 yo at the time) as dead for SIX MONTHS. Looking back, as painful as it was, I needed the six months away from him. At the end, I was in a much healthier, better place and had a clear picture of exactly how I wanted to proceed with him along with great support from my husband and therapist. It was SO SAD BUT VALIDATING to see my husband finally have the wrapping paper striped off my dad and see him for the manipulative lier that he was! After, one of the BEST tactics I employed with him at the suggestion of my therapist: if he asked how we were, how work was going, how the cars were running, etc., my reply to everything was “fine” and versions of fine. Never good, never bad, never any details for him to use against us or in his favor. My dad died suddenly about three years after that. That has been almost a year ago he died. I am 41. In the end, I truly respected, liked, admired my dad and found him funny. I did not ever trust him and found it was best for us all if I kept him at arm’s length. There’s times where I miss so much about him but then, the relief I feel from not having the biggest bully present in my life is profound. I wasn’t a perfect daughter and I couldn’t be because the bar he set was so impossibly high. I always failed him. It didn’t matter that I was vale valedictorian, if I had a full ride scholarship, that I didn’t even date one of his friends sons or have a one-night stand. I cancelled lunch. Like I said, my relief is profound. My stomach doesn’t clench every time the phone rings, thinking it’s my dad calling. I’m in therapy so that his abuse stops here with me and doesn’t get passed onto my children.