Narcissistic teen daughter


family can be poison

I just had a major temper tantrum when I discovered my fifteen year old Chantelle being spiteful/emotionally abusive to her eleven year old brother, Jordan, yet again.

He saved up so hard and finally bought the Nintendo game of his dreams, while she was out at a friend’s, and when she got back he made it so clear that he’d love to show it to her and even share it with her.

I had a very strong hunch that it was a mistake to tell her what he wanted so badly from her, and  when I got up from my two hour Sunday afternoon nap, she hadn’t done him the little favour at all. On purpose. Not even for a minute.

I’d seen it coming so clearly.

I was overcome with fury!

I told her that I don’t know where I went wrong with her!

I yelled that she should go live with her grandmother, my narcissistic mother, because she’s spiteful just like her!

She immediately appeared at Jordan’s side where he was playing his new game, but it was too little, too late!!!

I threw the breadboard down in the kitchen and sent her to her room, telling her that until she can treat people with some love and respect she can just stay in her room, and I’ll knock when there’s food.

And I took her precious phone away, too, without knocking before entering anymore, either. Why the fuck should I be so good to her when she’s so fucking spiteful??

I don’t know what else I can do.

If she wants to run away, she can, but I’m not letting her abuse us anymore.

I always just calm down after I’ve laid out a punishment, and go back to being nice, hoping she’s learnt her lesson, but I simply can’t anymore:

she’s hurting my Jordan!


Clearly treating her with love and respect isn’t helping at all.

Maybe taking away all her privileges, including my kindness will help?

I don’t know!

A shrink wont help, this I know.

It’s a simple choice she has made: to be a covert abuser;

the fact that it’s covert, shows me that she knows exactly what she’s doing, so let her live with the consequences of her decision.

Maybe she’ll see the error of her ways?

I don’t know.

I will have to keep her off social media, as I’ve seen that she is emotionally abusive on there, and I will be keeping her interaction with us to the bare minimum;

I’m not sure until when.

They say there is no cure for narcissism, and I sure have decades of experience with narcs. I’m pretty sure that even if I take away all her privileges and social contact for a month, she’ll just be more careful not to be caught next time.

She’ll just get more and more covert.




Yesterday was my narc mother’s 71st birthday (we are No Contact with her, due to HER covert abuse).

Well, she might be getting Chantelle as her gift:

her dream come true.


I explained to Jordan why I’m so cross with Chantelle; that she hurts his feelings on purpose and that it’s not right, and that he deserves better.

Chantelle would bitchily imply I’m playing favourites, but I’m not:

it’s me protecting him because I have insight into the subtle abuse he’s being subjected to, as the same was done to me by MY narcissistic older sibling.

Why would she want to hurt such a lonely, sweet kid??

(I was a lonely, sweet kid, too)


I just texted  her boyfriend’s mom telling her to tell the boy that “I’ve confiscated her phone for the foreseeable future for covertly emotionally abusing her little brother”. I caught her hurting her boyfriend covertly just the other day, too! I wonder if he’ll understand what I’m talking about? She says his grandmother that they live with reminds her of her narc grandmother…

She’s hurt MY feelings on purpose, plenty of times, too, although with my near psychotic freak-outs, and subsequent stiff punishments, she did learn to be a lot more careful.

Like when she stayed silent and smirked at my pain when I told her how Jordan had told me my ex’s new girlfriend is so great, when she knew very well I was hinting strongly that I needed some comfort/reassurance;

and when she purposefully didn’t text me from her holiday away with with her friend in June, after I’d specifically asked her to…






















My heroine addict hooker friend

On Thursday my God-fearing heroine addict work-friend Cheryl told me that all her make-up and clothes were stolen in the abandoned building in town where she lives sectioned behind cardboard box walls, and was asking around if anyone had old clothes to spare.

I always dodge her pleas for money at the end of a quiet shift like everyone else does, because she’s a known addict, but my teen daughter happened to have relinquished some very nice outgrown clothes the day before, and Cheryl, being so petite (says she used to be huge)…I just knew I was meant to give them to her.

I filled a classy string handled shopping bag that my ex’s spoilt daughter’s fancy Superga sneakers had come in years ago with a lot of stuff I’d been hanging onto for one day when I’m slender again, as well as an old lipstick, and looked forward to giving it to her.

She was so happy! It was so wonderful to be able to do it!! She immediately went to the back and changed into some of it and looked great! And then made some decent money, too! I’ve never seen her look so good and so happy.

It really lifted my spirits.


Father and son in the brothel

Last night a gorgeous, well-hung twenty-two year old rich boy Justin Bieber type booked me for three hours.

I’d been tipsy and in retrospect his eyes gleamed as he’d helped me get tipsy at the bar, especially to take advantage of me later.

He admitted to a number of sneaky behaviours throughout our time together:

said he NEVER uses a condom, and even when the girl insists, he “accidentally” lets it come off…

He invited me to visit him at his place on Sunday night

Says he’ll cook, provide premium weed, play me a great comedy movie…but this morning I threw his card away, remembering how he’d cum in me without even telling me and then told me hours later after I’d tried so fucking hard to help him cum!

I’m pretty sure he was on Viagra or something and he was huge, and even when I said I was to sore to go on, he put it in even more,  and enjoyed the fact that I just couldn’t seem to say no to more penetration; that I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint him, even though it was so sore

well, it was pleasurable AND sore. very confusing.

as I’m sure he knew.

He’d said I was “sweet”…I’m quite sure he meant he’d identified me as a people-pleaser.

He’d confessed to being lonely in life and having low self-esteem when sober, then when I said he was nice or honest, or both, he’d said he was very glad to have convinced me!

He even bit me right at the end; joked that he was biting me to keep me there with him and he wouldn’t release his bite even when I asked repeatedly as nicely as I could. He did when I elbowed him in the face though, but still I didn’t elbow him hard, at all, because he’d made it into a joke.

He did it to over-step my boundaries.

He’d told me how his father gave him cocaine at 14 and started taking him to brothels at 16…

His father was in the next room, for hours, and paid for the son to have me for three hours

I’m curious to see who the father is

the boy made it clear that the father is quite crazy

says his father called him one night to help him deal with ghosts that he could only see behind him when looking into his phone’s selfie camera!

mentioned his step-dad’s gay brother/son convincing him to let him suck him off!

joked about “roofy-ing” me

what a crazy drug-addled family! yet he maintains his job (working for his mother, though) and both parents (divorced since he was a boy) have successful businesses, selling AV equipment.


Hot guy, smelly cock

After being frighteningly broke again, I was rather happy to go back to the club for another swing, last night. I was feeling very sexy (after slimming for a few days and having done a sunbed session at the pharmacy on the corner) in my cream coloured hot-pants and wedge heels, with my forty-year old body looking so nicely toned.
I chatted up a GORGEOUS guy for a few drinks, quite early on, and as we sat, I surprised and entertained him with my wit and wisdom about sociopathic men and pointed out hot (younger) girls for him, as I was pretty sure he was out of my league. Well, after about an hour, I was quite surprised when he got up and said “Lets book” 🙂

In the room I’d kissed him as if I loved him (I miss having a man to love!) until I got to his (pierced!) cock which smelt like vrot pee, like I remember my older boyfriend’s smelling when I was eighteen. He used to beg me to suck it but I just couldn’t, no matter how much he washed it (and didn’t I eventually discover that he was sexually verrry dodgy…) Similar with this guy but not nearly as bad. I could suck it. But I didn’t love it. But I gave it a pretty good go, people-pleaser that I am. I looked forward to penetration because he was quite nice and thick but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him to come! It might’ve been the female condom, but he said it’s not unusual and not to worry. Still I felt bad, but he really didn’t seem to care as we had another drink (he drank only clean Tab the whole eve, WTF?)

That turned out to be my only booking (that’s what we call a trip to the rooms), but I was happy to at least have made a few hundred to go on with. My main concern is keeping my kids comfortable, which I’ve managed to do all through this tough time since leaving Nick. It all reminds me very much of the time toddler Chantelle and I lived in a wendy house in 2006 (which happens to have been the previous time Jupiter was in Scorpio , I can’t ignore the coincidence)

So R440 was my cut of the R770 he paid (10% extra for being on a card), but R200 of my weekly levy was deducted, as it always is from my first booking of the week. And I’d paid my first beer myself, to unwind: R24 (incl tip), and my Ubers cost me R44 , so I got home with only R172 for a night in the brothel-cum-bar (haha cum, get it?), yet I’m grateful for it.

God’s making me grateful again.
My current situation simply must be God’s doing.
I’m living from meal-to-meal again, yet I’m managing to keep things going.

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Three guys call me over…

Last night was a Monday night and I chose to go to work. We choose when we want to do a shift, which is what makes it a pretty cool job, in my opinion.

I didn’t expect to earn much much more than my week’s levy  and my night’s transport, as Monday’s are almost always quite dead at the bar/ brothel, but the thought of having a few drinks and seeing some other adults seemed nice. God knows I’m lonely.

I caught an Uber there (it’s not far) and when I arrived, went straight to the bathroom as I usually do to remove my Uber clothes and put a more feminine, more revealing outfit on, and then went and took a seat at the bar, as I usually do.

There were three white guys sitting at a table near the stage. Usually guys that sit at the tables aren’t looking for prostitutes; they just come to have a few drinks together and catch a strip show. The one beckoned to me but I chose to ignore him. I have a lot of experience there and I know that an invitation like that usually just means they’re bored with each other and want to ask me a bunch of questions and then not know what to do with me, seeing as though I’m only one lady and they’re three guys.

The beckoner was quite determined, though, and got up to come and invite me to their table. He was quite attractive, and English speaking too, which is of course so much easier than Afrikaans is for me, but  still I resisted, explaining why I didn’t think it was a good idea, but he really, really wanted me to!

He’d asked so nicely and I didn’t want to reject him, especially not for no good reason, so I went.

Three guys: the beckoner, a likeable boy-next-door type and a mute fellow with a very neat beard. All about 45, and all nice-looking.

The beckoner immediately asked if I’d be willing to take him and the nice guy to sit in a jacuzzi and just fool around, no intercourse: two guys, one girl.

Tipsy me would’ve been immediately game, but I was stone cold sober and simply didn’t have the guts to even discuss it without a drink, so I said so. I’m very straight forward.  When we couldn’t spot the waitress, he carried on and on about it, clearly disregarding my boundary.  I felt a bit bullied, so I found myself becoming aggressive, and asked him straight: So why no intercourse? Did he think it wouldn’t be cheating on his significant other if there was no penetration? It’s not the first time I’d put a guy on the spot like that, while sober, and of course they don’t like me much after that, but he wasn’t put off: instead he got me a drink. When it arrived, it was only a single., so I asked for it to be made a double, not to be greedy, but because I was feeling so intimidated, and once I’d downed half of it, I was much more relaxed, and started chatting and laughing, and then the propositioning continued.

When Obnoxious heard that it would cost double for two guys to share my company in the jacuzzi with or without penetration, he started talking about inviting another girl along, to get better value for the money, I can only assume. He said I should organise one: a “friend”. Ugh. I don’t do that shit. I’ve always worked alone, and it really doesn’t appeal to me to have a second guy see me naked and touch me in the jacuzzi when I’d only be paid for one. I’d given it a go as a Twenty-Something newbie but now as a 40-something mom, I know what I like and what I don’t, and so I refused.

I called Megan over for Obnoxious and turned my attention to Boy-Next-Door who I really liked. Well, when I saw how absolutely disrespectfully Obnoxious treated Megan, I was totally disgusted. I had to tell him to offer her a seat, the pig! Then when he bought another round and didn’t offer me another, I simply asked Boy-Next-Door to get me one, which he obligingly did. I started really enjoying  Boy-Next-Door and hoped I’d get to go with him, alone. Nooit. Obnoxious was not giving up on me. Seems he’d just been trying to make me jealous with much younger, sexier Megan.

Obnoxious called Boy-Next-Door one side to discuss things, and I told Mute that this was when the obnoxious friend threatens the friendship if he doesn’t get what he wants. He laughed; the first sound he’d made. The older guys often laugh when I predict these things so flippantly due to my vast life experience. Many find it refreshing.

They returned, and Boy-Next-Door said he wasn’t really all that keen after all, but that Obnoxious was. I said Oh, so that’s the pecking order, is it? (Lekker windgat now with almost two doubles in me). I turned to Obnoxious, who was looking so smug, as if I now had to go with him, and said But you gave me such a Fuck You by not buying me another drink? So, no thanks.

I rarely if ever go through with a guy that has shown me he’s an arsehole at the bar already, and him not buying me that drink had been a good excuse to reject him.

I greeted and got up and went and sat with aguy I knew.

When I looked again, they’d left.

The night didn’t get much better, although I certainly had some nice strong drinks which was what I’d actually gone for. I ended up not doing any business, but at least my self-respect was intact, and I’d cut yet another narcissist down a peg or two, which is always a pleasure.


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Gentle yet painful dream

I have so many vivid dreams now that I stopped smoking weed, but I don’t record them all. Most don’t seem important or relevant, but this one was about my ex-narcissist’s new relationship.

I dreamt Nick wasn’t a narcissist anymore and we’d made peace and were now friends, and so I tried to arrange a big games night with his brothers and their wives, the way we’d done years ago when I’d felt like I had a big, loving family and friends that adored me.

I texted his youngest brother, Johnny, trying to confirm things. He was polite but seemed  confused, and that was when I realised that Nick was still with his new girlfriend.

Then I was having coffee with his elderly mother, the narcissistic gambler, and she too seemed to have changed for the better. She said she was feeling so relaxed, as she had a clear conscience that weekend (I understood that she meant she hadn’t gambled) and also because her darling son was so relaxed and happy.

Fishing, I’d said “It’s because he has a new lady that makes him happy”. She’d stayed quiet because I was right and she didn’t want to hurt my feelings.

It stung for a second but also I knew I was better off knowing the truth.

I’m pretty sure I dreamt this because for weeks now I’ve been hoping they’d broken up and that, realising that he’s obviously the problem in his relationships and the cause of his own pain, Nick would decide to change and  come back to me, begging for another chance, but last night he’d replied to my email about visiting with my son and there was still no indication of him missing me at all. I’d allowed myself a few tears of disappointment. I guess this dream was just to help me heal further.



About me

Placeholder ImageI’m a forty two year old single mother of two, from South Africa, currently working as a prostitute at a local brothel.

AT the age of twenty-two, I formulated a philosophy to live by, which I believed would enable me to somehow “attract my personal heaven” (an abundant, joyful life) and have documented my findings in a journal for twenty years now,

I’ve written an eBook outlining my upbringing and early adulthood, as an introduction to my account of how I hitch-hiked around South Africa, penniless and all alone, especially to document what the Universe would do, and share my findings with the world.