My Experience with DARVO

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Dec 9, 2024

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Being a “good daughter” often comes with expectations of obedience, patience, and selflessness. These qualities are seen as virtues in many family systems and cultural frameworks. However, the role of a “good daughter” becomes far more complex when it requires constant self-sacrifice and emotional suppression.

I had been the “good daughter” once, but what happens when being “good” means surrendering your reality to someone else’s version of events? For daughters like me, we most likely had mothers who make the cost of being a “good daughter” mean losing ourselves. To only obey without question, and never grow past what they deem fit.

In that time, my perception of reality is continually challenged, leaving me to question my memories, emotions, and sense of identity. This erosion of self creates a mental divide where the daughter exists in two forms: the “good daughter” who meets expectations and the invisible self who quietly questions everything.

The Split Image of Self

If you’ve ever confronted your mother about something hurtful she said, only to be told, “You’re too sensitive” or “That never happened”, you’ve experienced the “deny” phase. If that confrontation escalated to accusations like, “You’re the ungrateful one” or “You’re always trying to start a fight”, you’ve entered the “attack” phase. And if it all ended with, “I’ve done so much for you, and this is how you repay me?”, then you’ve experienced the reversal of victim and offender. This cycle, often referred to as DARVO, is emotionally disorienting, especially for children.

When this tactic is used by a parent, particularly a mother — someone who is supposed to be a source of unconditional love and protection — it distorts a child’s sense of self, perception of reality, and emotional development.

I know this because I’ve lived it. I know the mental gymnastics required to be a “good daughter” while silently questioning your memory, feelings, and sanity. I’ve had to untangle the confusion, guilt, and misplaced loyalty that came with growing up under this manipulation.

The Mechanics of DARVO in a Mother-Daughter Dynamic

Unlike in romantic or workplace relationships, DARVO within a parent-child relationship has a unique level of psychological entrapment. For a child, their mother is often their first source of safety, comfort, and love. But when that source becomes the source of harm, the child faces an emotional paradox: “How can the person who loves me also hurt me?”

Deny

When daughters confront their mothers about hurtful words, boundary violations, or emotional neglect, the mother denies the event ever happened. This is often done in subtle but effective ways:

“I never said that.”

“You’re remembering it wrong.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

For me, this often looked like replaying arguments in my head late at night, trying to “fix” my memory. I would wonder, “Did I really hear it that way? Maybe I did misinterpret it.” Over time, I stopped trusting my own memory. I started relying on my mother’s version of reality, even when it felt wrong. This self-doubt didn’t stay confined to family life — it followed me into friendships, relationships, and work.

Attack

Once the denial phase weakens your self-assurance, the attack begins. Mothers may criticize, discredit, or undermine the child’s character. The intention is to shift the focus away from the mother’s behavior and onto the child’s flaws. This might sound like:

“You’re being dramatic.”

“You always have to be the victim.”

“Why do you love causing problems in this house?”

I vividly remember being 14 and calling out my mother for making fun of me in front of family and friends. Her response? “Why do you always have to make everything about you?” I felt embarrassed, ashamed, and ridiculous for speaking up. After that, I learned to stay quiet, even when I was hurt. This attack on my character taught me that expressing my feelings was “wrong,” and I began hiding my emotions.

Reverse Victim and Offender

This is perhaps the most devastating part of the cycle. Suddenly, the person causing the harm frames themselves as the victim. The daughter, who only wanted accountability or compassion, is now cast as the “villain” — the “ungrateful child” or the “bad daughter.” The emotional manipulation might sound like:

“After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you treat me?”

“You don’t appreciate me at all.”

“I’m the one who’s suffering here, not you.”

This reversal tactic is the most emotionally taxing. As a daughter, you internalize this blame. You start to believe, “Maybe I am selfish. Maybe I should be grateful.” It’s emotionally paralyzing, especially when it’s tied to cultural and societal expectations that daughters must always be “grateful” to their mothers.

The Impact on a Daughter’s Development

Loss of Identity

When a child grows up in an environment where their reality is constantly denied, their identity becomes shaped by the abuser’s narrative. If you’re told you’re “selfish,” “difficult,” or “ungrateful” often enough, those labels stick. As a teenager, I tried desperately to be the “good daughter” — quiet, accommodating, and never a “problem.” But the more I bent to meet this expectation, the more I felt like I was disappearing.

Perfectionism and People-Pleasing

When love is conditional, you learn that being “good” is the only way to earn affection. Daughters raised under DARVO often become perfectionists and people-pleasers. I became hyper-aware of my mother’s moods, knowing that if I could “read” her emotional state, I could avoid being blamed. This people-pleasing extended into friendships and work life, where I would over-apologize, over-perform, and bend over backward to avoid conflict.

Anxiety and Hypervigilance

Being on high alert for subtle shifts in mood or behavior creates a state of hypervigilance. This is a survival mechanism that, over time, becomes a personality trait. I found myself scanning people’s faces for signs of disappointment, fear, or frustration. This constant “threat assessment” led to chronic anxiety, which followed me into every space I entered.

Self-Doubt and Second-Guessing
DARVO tactics make you question everything — not just your memory, but also your emotions, decisions, and boundaries. I would replay conversations with friends, thinking, “Was I rude? Should I have said that differently?” I’d over-apologize, thinking I had done something wrong. This self-doubt was not “natural” — it was a learned behavior, a mental script implanted by years of being told I was “wrong” whenever I spoke up.

Chronic Guilt

The guilt never leaves. Even when you set boundaries or reduce contact with your mother, the inner voice of guilt stays. I remember the first time I told my mother, “I can’t talk to you right now,” and she responded, “Wow, I guess I’m just a terrible mother, huh?” That guilt sat with me for days. Guilt is the emotional leash that DARVO mothers use to pull their daughters back into compliance.

The Phone Call That Changed Everything

I remember the phone call that changed everything. I was in my mid-20s and had started therapy. I’d learned about DARVO and suddenly saw my childhood with new clarity. On this particular day, I decided to confront my mother about an incident from my teens when she publicly humiliated me in front of relatives.

“Do you remember when you said I was lazy in front of everyone?”

“I never said that. You’re being ridiculous.”

“You did, and I felt humiliated.”

“You always twist things to make me look bad. You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m just telling you how I felt.”

“Wow, after everything I’ve done for you, this is what I get?”

I hung up. But this time, I didn’t replay the conversation in my mind. This time, I saw it clearly for what it was: DARVO in action.