Changing the Lens: How Observation Transformed My Healing

Steps to Change Your Lens of Perception

Camera lens symbolizing a shift in perception during healing after maternal narcissistic abuse—how observation transformed my internal narrative.

For most of my life, I didn’t realize my healing from maternal narcissistic abuse was being filtered through a distorted lens—a lens understandably shaped by survival mode and trauma.

Because survival was my natural identity—it had to be.

Survival felt familiar, predictable, and weirdly safe.

My abused-state-of-being lens defined everything for me, even into midlife

It shaped my thoughts, my behaviors, my values, and every experience of my life:

  • “Stay small, walk on eggshells, and don’t get noticed.”

  • “Love isn’t safe.”

  • “Money isn’t safe.”

  • “I can’t do that- or have that because I’m not worth it.”

  • “You don’t deserve it—you’ll have to make do with noting.”

It made me emotionally defensive, focused on lack and depletion.

It made me freeze, unable to be productive- and perform in business.

It made me always anticipate worst-case scenario.

The moment I realized my perspective lens needed to shift

Everything started to crack open in December 2020, which is when my healing began.

That’s when I finally accepted the brutal, gut-wrenching truth while living under her roof as a caregiver for her and my dad: my mother was a cruel, covert-narcissist and I had always been her target (my dad was her target, too).

The weight of that realization crushed me to my core!

I was 53 years old at the time, which means for over five decades I convinced myself to cope, to minimize her behavior by gaslighting myself, to always assume the blame, and to survive while refusing to accept who she truly was.

I didn’t want to believe the truth about my mother because deep down I was terrified!

Terrified of what admitting the truth would mean.

Terrified of what would happen if she ever found out I was thinking negatively about her.

That denial? It was its own kind of survival!

But when I finally accepted the truth of who she was and the cacophony masquerading as harmony that our relationship danced to, it cracked my world wide open in the most agonizing ways imaginable: I felt raw, exposed, and completely broken (honestly, there are no words to describe these feelings).

My mother passed away in the summer of 2021, and by fall of 2022 I became obsessed with WHY.

WHY was my mother so cruel to me (and my dad), but nice and respectful to others?

WHY was I her target?

WHY didn’t my sibling experience my mother in the same ways I did?

In order to ask WHY, I felt I had to shift my perspective from my abused state of being to a more neutral point of view so I wouldn’t get so bogged down with emotion, even though those emotions were wholly understandable.

I wasn’t healed when I started shifting my perspective; rather, I was still broken.

But, I instinctively knew this was the right fork in the road for me to take in my healing journey.

This moment marked a major turning point in my recovery from maternal narcissistic abuse because I stopped reacting and started observing.

How I started changing my lens of perception

Changing my lens didn’t come easily.

It didn’t come naturally.

It didn’t come overnight.

It started slowly, awkwardly, and with more than a little hesitation.

But the more I practiced observing my life and my reactions from a neutral, observational perspective, the more I began to see things for what they really were—not just what my past had conditioned me to see (this was a huge step for me!).

Here’s what worked for me:

  1. Pausing before reacting. I’d ask myself, “What’s really happening here?” That tiny pause became a lifeline of sorts because it gave me space to step outside my automatic survival responses—what I call my “conditioned responses.”

  2. Naming my emotions. I started identifying what I was feeling in the moment. “I feel frozen because I’m scared.” “I feel angry because I’m not being seen or heard.” “I feel distant because I’m being told what to do.” Naming my emotions took the edge off their power over me.

  3. Asking new questions. I trained myself to ask, “Why is this happening?” and to keep asking why until I hit the root. This one shift opened up space for growth I didn’t know was possible.

Every time I paused, named, or questioned it felt like peeling back a layer of that old abused-state-of-being lens.

Slowly but surely, I began to see my life and my responses to it a little more clearly.

What changed when my lens changed

This shift wasn’t easy and it sure as hell wasn’t instant.

Every time I chose to neutrally observe instead of react from my abused state of being, I felt something shift:

  • I started giving myself permission to respond differently

  • I noticed patterns I had never seen before—patterns of fear and reaction that had been running my life

  • I began to see possibilities where I once only saw limitations.

It wasn’t just about seeing the possibilities—it was about feeling safe enough to believe in them, which honestly took me years.

But every small shift in my lens made the weight of my past feel just a little bit lighter.

Why this work matters to me

Looking back, I can see how much of my life was shaped by that old abused state of being lens.

It kept me small, unworthy, stuck, and incapable of change.

Once I changed my lens, I saw the difference between being stuck in survival mode and actually healing from maternal narcissistic abuse.

I could see my life without the emotional reactions that clouded everything for decades.

I became someone capable of healing, growing, and eventually creating a new version of my life and my Self.

How you can start changing your lens if you feel ready

First, know this: changing your lens isn’t about forgetting what you’ve been through.

It’s not about ignoring, minimizing, or gaslighting yourself about your pain or experiences.

Your story matters and every part of it has shaped who you are.

This is about reaching a point where you feel ready to start seeing your life differently.

You’ll know when that moment comes.

Trust yourself to recognize it—it doesn’t have to happen today, but when it does, you’ll feel it.

If you’re ready now, here’s a recommendation for where you can start:

  1. Notice your lens. Are you viewing through the emotional, your-abused-self lens or a neutral lens of observation? What thoughts, beliefs, or patterns are shaping your views of yourself and the world? Jot them down.

  2. Practice observation. I started observing my life without judgment. This isn’t about fixing yourself—it’s about understanding yourself.

  3. Take it one step at a time. Changing my lens was a process and it started with small, intentional shifts. Sometimes, those shifts do feel emotional, so let the tears flow.

Final thoughts

Healing after the death of a narcissistic mother isn’t just about confusing grief—it’s about shifting your perception so you can finally see yourself clearly.

Changing the lens I was looking through is just one aspect of my healing journey.

It didn’t just transform my healing—it helped to redefine who I am.

I’m not defined by the pain of my past or the survival identity I carried for so long.

Today, I am defined by the values and behaviors that align with being a confident (this is where my worthiness lives), capable, and powerful woman.

I choose to live in alignment with my worth, my strength, and my potential.

This transformation wasn’t easy, but it was worth every tear and every step.

And if you’re ready to start shifting your lens, know this: the life you’re capable of creating is more beautiful than you’ve ever imagined.

Oh, and one more thing. This is one of the reasons I created Sovereign Rebel Boutique—to help women reclaim their identity and power after a lifetime of being told who to be.


Aligned, unshakable, and walking with you,

Carole

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Reclaiming My Autonomy: A Journey Back to Myself

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1 Month Progress: More Than Fat Loss—Healing After Maternal Narcissistic Abuse