Flying Monkeys and My Journey Through a Legacy of Narcissistic abuse.

We have entered rainy season at the lake. Today is day six of rain and swarms of fish flies creating a loud buzz in the dark skies. It feels like a scene from a horror movie when walking out to the garden to check for growth. So stuck in my office here I sit writing my weekly Trauma blog and I can't help but think about the bridal shower that I attended over the past weekend. In the midst of a joyous event full of laughter and hope I had the mystifying experience of explaining my new career to a Baby boomer. The conversation started off on the wrong foot from the moment that she asked me what I did. I should have paused and thought about her generational understanding of trauma and healing. Instead, as a recovering people pleaser, I launched into a full on sales pitch about generational trauma and how it was passed down a legacy to most of Gen X. I could tell that I had painted myself into a corner when her tone changed and she started to defend the practicality of strict discipline as a form of love. As the scapegoat in a narcissistic family I understand that myth. I once was living under the weight of secrecy that comes with pretending that a family dynamic is perfect and all abuse is necessary to teach me to be a perfect human being. The conversation continued until the baby boomer turned her focus onto something else that didn't fit her idea of how the world works. I was very thankful for her new focus on the "audacity of the bridesmaids to wear dresses shorter than their knees".  All the way home I thought about that conversation and the ways in which I could be more generationally sensitive the next time I have it. The truth is I am not sure a generation of baby boomers who raised their children to be absolutely obedient to their elders can see how that could be problematic to the self esteem of gen x.

My thoughts went to my relatives who, since my mother has passed away, have had endless things to say to me as I tell my story of living as the scapegoat in a narcissistic family. With coming out of the darkness of secrecy and speaking my truth I have shone a light on the blemish within our family. If there is one thing that baby boomers love it is the mirage of a perfect family unit. I cannot tell you how many times my distant relatives have made chastising comments on my facebook posts when I explain my scape goat role. What they don't understand is that the day that I decided to speak my truth was the very day that their ideas no longer mattered. The way that I deal with those disturbing comments made to quiet my voice is that I ask a simple string of questions. Those questions sounds like, "Did you grow up in my house? Did you experience the abuse? How many times a year did you really see our family dynamic?" Usually after that they disappear into the shadows again under the weight of the truth.

I wish that people could rationalize the idea that I can love my abuser deeply and still fully see the reality at the same time. Telling my story doesn't mean that I need sympathy or an exodus of people to come to my side. In the midst of healing there are no sides because healing is a one person inside job. It doesn't require any family commentary.

In a narcissistic family, the scapegoat is unjustly blamed for all the family's problems and serves as an emotional punching bag for the narcissist's frustrations. This role is often assigned to a sensitive or individualistic family member who threatens the narcissist's control.

Unlike the golden child, who is idealized, the scapegoat faces constant criticism, blame, and emotional abuse, which can deeply erode their self-esteem and instill a pervasive sense of unworthiness. The scapegoat becomes a repository for the family's flaws, allowing the narcissist to maintain a façade of perfection by projecting their own inadequacies onto them. Even when the lead Narcissist passes away the remaining members of the family, still fully playing their learned roles will still expect the scapegoat to live within their role. If a scapegoat walks away often the golden child might get extended family members and friends involved to help them with their abuse. They’ll insist that they’ve been terribly wronged by the scapegoat and recruit others to assist with continued torment from afar. This behavior is often referred to as the "Flying Monkeys" movement. Much like in the movie The Wizard of Oz, the witch rounds up a group of flying monkeys to bring harm to Dorothy. Understanding this role is crucial for healing, as it helps the scapegoat recognize that they are a victim of a toxic dynamic, not the cause of the family's dysfunction. By seeking support and breaking free from the family’s toxic narratives, scapegoats can begin to reclaim their self-worth and build a life grounded in self-respect and empowerment.

Scapegoating is a group dynamic where one person is singled out by the rest of the group, and becomes a target of blame, abuse, and other negative treatment. This role plays out into adulthood and makes family functions, holidays and even the death of a parent an impossibly difficult time for the scapegoat. As tensions rise all emotional shit storms are aimed in the scapegoat's direction. Having recently spent time with my dying mother I can tell you with great certainty that the war that was raging inside of me while I sat beside her was a full on bronc ride to the 8 second bell. On the outside my poker face did not give away the battle between my old role of scapegoat and my new truth. I could clearly see the dysfunctional dynamic of a family who was struggling under the weight of our mother's death but could not show the support and love that we each needed. I could feel myself wanting to take on that role to keep the peace while also fighting for the self respect that I had built after going no contact for so many years.

 Through the entire process of my mother's passing I could relate to Dorothy's journey. That journey is more than a fantastical adventure; it is a powerful metaphor for understanding and healing from trauma, particularly for those who have been scapegoated in their families. Just as Dorothy faced the terror of the flying monkeys and ultimately triumphed, scapegoats must confront their own fears and adversaries. Dorothy, much like a scapegoat, endured unjust blame and hardship but found the strength and resilience within herself to overcome these challenges. By recognizing her inner power, Dorothy discovered she always had the ability to return home. Similarly, scapegoats can find that they possess the strength to heal and move beyond their past traumas, unlocking their own path to inner peace and self-empowerment. In this life we have to embrace the journey and heal through to a future of peace and joy. This once scapegoated girl is going to continue on her journey regardless of any "flying Monkeys" or roles that other family members still cling to. This is my life and I am worthy of healing and growth because the empowerment gained from healing my trauma wounds makes a flock of flying Monkeys seem whimsical at best.

Anastasia Jorquera-Boschman is a retired teacher, principal and educational consultant. Currently she spends her time writing, speaking and holding space for people to heal trauma as a Trauma-Informed Coach. When she isn't working with clients Anastasia can be found moving out of her old role as the opportunity presents. She is most grateful for the Flying Monkeys who remind her of the importance of this journey.