When a Narcissistic Mother Dies: How Should I Feel About This? 8 strategies to help you get through this loss.

When we lose a parent, society tells us what we’re supposed to feel. Grief. Sorrow. Love remembered. A longing to see them again. But what happens when the parent who died—specifically your mother—was also the one who deeply wounded you? What if she was narcissistic, controlling, emotionally unsafe, or incapable of nurturing you?

That’s a grief very few people talk about.

When a narcissistic mother dies, the emotions can be complicated, confusing, and sometimes even contradictory. You may feel relief that the constant emotional warfare is over—and then guilt for feeling that relief. You may feel deep sadness for the relationship you never had, even as you wrestle with anger over the harm that was done. Or maybe you feel… nothing at all, which can feel unsettling when the world around you expects tears.

Our history with a narcissistic mother is rarely neat or tidy. It’s often full of broken places, unspoken fears, and moments where we doubted our own worth. For years, you may have carried a “scarlet letter” of shame—not just for the mistakes you made, but for the relationship itself.

The voice of a narcissistic mother can be so powerful that it overshadows God’s truth about who you are. She may have convinced you that you were never enough, never lovable, never capable. Even now, those echoes might linger in your mind, tempting you to believe her words over God’s.

But Isaiah 50:7 reminds us: The Lord God helps me; therefore, I have not been disgraced. Your past—messy as it may be—does not define your worth. You are not what your mother said you were.

One of the first emotions many daughters of narcissistic mothers feel after her death is guilt. Not just guilt for things you said or didn’t say, but for what you feel in the moment. Relief. Anger. Freedom. Even joy at no longer being under her control.

You might ask yourself: Does this make me a bad daughter?

The answer is no.

Your feelings are not moral failures; they are reflections of your reality. If your mother caused harm, it is natural to feel relieved when that harm ends. If you grieve, you might be grieving the idea of a mother—one you wish you had but never did—not necessarily the woman who passed away. Both are valid.

It can be tempting to push the past away and never look back. After all, why revisit painful memories? But as the “Remove the Scarlet Letter” truth reminds us, our past—though painful—is not something to hide in shame. God can redeem it.

Your experiences with your mother shaped you—not in the way she might have intended, but in the way, God can use for good. You may have learned resilience, empathy for others, or a keen sense of justice. You may now recognize toxic patterns more quickly and choose to break them.

This doesn’t mean God wanted you to experience abuse or neglect. But it does mean that He can weave even those threads into a greater story.

When a narcissistic mother dies, part of the grief is for the relationship that never was. You may have spent your entire life hoping she would one day change, that she would finally see and love you for who you are. Her death closes that door, and that can hurt deeply—even if you had already accepted that she would never change in life.

It’s okay to mourn that loss. It’s okay to cry for the little girl who wanted her mother’s embrace, the young woman who longed for her approval, and the adult who tried to build boundaries but still carried scars.

This kind of mourning is not weakness. It is truth-telling. And truth-telling is where healing begins.

Many daughters of narcissistic mothers carry an unspoken shame: If she didn’t love me, something must be wrong with me. This is the “scarlet letter” we place on ourselves, the false identity we wear long after the abuse ends.

But when we believe in the redemptive power of Jesus, we declare that our past no longer has the power to define us. Jesus bore our shame on the cross—not just the shame of our own mistakes, but the shame others tried to place on us.

You are not the sum of your mother’s opinions or her treatment of you. You are the beloved daughter of the most High God.

Narcissistic abuse often teaches us to mask our pain, to pretend everything is fine so we don’t invite more harm. But masking keeps us from experiencing—and showing others—the mercy and redemption God has worked in us.

God is not repelled by your weakness; He is drawn to it. When you allow Him into those wounds, He transforms them into testimonies. The pain you’ve endured can become a lifeline for someone else who is walking a similar path.

The short answer: how ever you feel right now.

If you feel relieved, that’s valid. If you feel angry, that’s valid. If you feel numb, confused, or conflicted—that’s valid too. There is no “right” way to grieve a narcissistic mother. The important thing is to bring those feelings before God, allowing Him to sift through them, comfort you, and show you the truth.

For such a time as this, you are here—with such a story as yours, for such a purpose as God has designed. Your old self has prepared you for the future He is calling you into. You have been made new.

Losing a narcissistic mother does not erase the pain of the past, but it can mark the beginning of a new chapter—one where your identity is no longer tethered to her approval or disapproval. You can move forward without the scarlet letter, free to live in the truth of who you are in Christ.

Prayer:
Dear Jesus, thank You for carrying my guilt and my shame upon the cross. You know the complexity of my relationship with my mother, and You see every wound and every tear. Help me release the labels I’ve carried and see my past as a springboard for Your glory. Use my story to bring hope to others and to remind me that I am not defined by what was done to me, but by what You have done for me. Amen.

If you would to discuss your answers, we invite you to contact us.