ACON.

Anyone who is an ACON knows what it means: Adult Children of Narcissists. I have made it to adulthood, but still feel like a child. I was made to feel that way, on purpose, by my dream-killer. My mom.

I’ll never know if I made it into the prestigious university I applied to. The one far away from her. My mom checked the mail religiously during that time. The only letter I got congratulated my acceptance into the university 20 minutes away from home. I guess never receiving news from the other university is all the answer I need. If I was rejected, she would have let me know with a quickness. First dream, DOA: Dead on Arrival.

I’ll never know if I made it into the prestigious job I applied for, since like the last time, my mom intercepted the mail before I ever saw it. (The job corresponded by mail to make sure you knew where and when to show up.) The job that would have sent me to every corner of the world, that would have paid handsomely, that would have pushed all my skills to the limit – not an option for an ACON like me. Second dream, torn up and thrown in the trash.

All because my mom couldn’t stand people leaving her – she was the one that did the leaving. She couldn’t stand anyone doing better than her. She doesn’t need friends or a lover – she needs people under her thumb. She needs to insert herself into every facet of your life to make sure hers is better. So now I struggle through dead-end jobs, looking back at a life unlived. As long as you’re happy, right, mom?

But this story doesn’t need to have a sad ending. I make moves without her knowledge. I’ve had little successes, all without her input. My dream isn’t dead yet. But it’s time to kill her control, her dominance. For my dream to live, hers has to die. I’m the dream-killer now.