If one or both of your parents are narcissists, you are a good candidate to become a narcissist yourself or to develop addictions, especially an addiction to suffering. A narcissistic family functions much like a cult, rigidly structured with assigned roles for each member. Its children, much like characters in a play, perform distinct roles but share a deep underlying similarity: each is a victim, treated as an extension of the narcissistic parent rather than as individuals with their own desires or essence.
This clan-like system features distinct roles: the Enabler, the Scapegoat, and the Sacrificial Lamb. In addition, you might find the Invisible Child, the Pet, or even the Slave—the combination shifting depending on age and circumstance. These classifications may be controversial, but they reveal the painful reality in many narcissistic families.
Victims of Narcissist families, invariably develop a compulsion to remain in relationships with abusers. This addiction begins in vulnerable childhood, when a bond with one or both abusive caretakers is critical for survival. As adults, these individuals continue associating with exploitative or abusive people because such relationships feel familiar. This blindness to red flags is fueled by emotional blind spots formed early in life.
How does this attachment addiction form? Traumatic bonding begins in infancy, when a child forms a deep and unhealthy emotional connection to a caregiver who is also an abuser. The danger is often masked when the abuser is charismatic or presents as a martyr, making them appear less threatening.
This bond develops through cycles of abuse mixed with occasional kindness or affection. Because children depend utterly on caregivers for love and security, they can develop unyielding loyalty and attachment despite the suffering.
Often isolated from outside help, especially when the other parent is an enabler, children may fail to see their situation as harmful. The constant threat and feeling of entrapment intensify anxiety and compel children to appease the abuser simply to survive.
The long-term effects of this trauma include difficulty recognizing abuse, emotional distress like anxiety or complex PTSD, and challenges in forming healthy relationships or setting appropriate boundaries.
For example, a child enduring harsh treatment from a parent who occasionally offers praise or gifts might cling desperately to those rare moments of positivity, even though the pain persists. Some children are even told abuse is a sign of love, making it harder to grasp the true nature of their trauma.
This article focuses primarily on the Sacrificial Lamb and the Scapegoat.
What is the chief difference between these roles?
The Sacrificial Lamb symbolizes someone who offers themselves as a sacrifice for a perceived greater good.
The Scapegoat, meanwhile, is the one born to bear the family’s darkest and most abject projections.
All narcissists are masters of manipulation and position themselves as “the ultimate victims”—entitled to define reality and dictate how others must feel. You either conform to their rigid worldview or become a threat.
Every member of a narcissistic family is a victim under the control of the narcissistic parent (NP). Picture narcissists with various personas: a Temper Tantrum Child trapped in an adult body, a Trickster Tyrant, a Grotesque Judge, a Righteous Inquisitor, or a Martyr Saint. Regardless of style, they and their enabler enforce unyielding rules, keeping the family locked in a constant coup d’état.
Among these narcissists, some have refined their victim stance to an art form; I call them the honorable Martyr. Unlike the overt narcissist who seeks to instill fear or shame, the narcissistic martyr wants you to pity them. Their weapon is guilt. Often passive-aggressive, they do not bare their teeth openly, but their bite leaves wounds etched deep in your soul. Their façade is one of perpetual victimhood.
Narcissists are con artists using a range of manipulative techniques. The narcissistic martyr, however, is an exhibitionist, dramatizing their own suffering, highlighting the sacrifices they’ve made for the family, the dreams they’ve abandoned, and the hardships endured for loved ones.
From birth, every child of an NP carries a lifelong debt—one that can never be repaid because nothing is ever enough.
The family operates like a chessboard. The narcissist manipulates each piece skillfully, ensuring everyone empathizes with their position. This control extends beyond the family to “flying monkeys,” a term borrowed from The Wizard of Oz, where the Wicked Witch of the West uses flying monkeys to do her dirty work, can be relatives, friends or employees who do the narcissist’s bidding—spreading gossip, delivering messages, and isolating victims.
How does this affect vulnerable children? Children who love their caretakers often feel compelled to ease their pain. They develop an unconscious pressure to rescue the martyr, driven by the need to please the NP and guess their desires. Yet, no child has real power to save or protect their parent.
After enduring life with a narcissist, you become completely possessed by them. The narrative they imposed is internalized, residing in your mind no matter where you go, even halfway across the world. You become little more than a projection of the narcissist’s will, a mere branch of the NP.
Children unable to conform to the narcissist’s rigid reality often become the scapegoat. Feeling worthless, defective, depressed and angry, they believe they just don’t fit in. But the truth is every narcissistic family requires a scapegoat to carry its darkest and most painful burdens.
Historically, the scapegoat bore the sins of an entire community before being cast out. Likewise, the scapegoat child in a narcissistic family suffers neglect and abuse, internalizing a false belief that they are inherently flawed and deserving of mistreatment. This role maintains the toxic family balance, diverting suspicion from the deeper wounds underneath.
Every dysfunctional family member plays a part in perpetuating the scapegoat’s suffering. Whether overtly or covertly, the narcissistic parent—often the ultimate martyr behind the scenes—programs the scapegoat to absorb the family’s misery. The scapegoat learns early to accept blame for problems that aren’t theirs.
The Golden Child, in contrast, is shielded from blame and criticism, receiving attention and admiration as long as the scapegoat remains the family’s focus of failure. The Golden Child preserves this privileged position by joining in scapegoating their sibling, reinforcing the family’s message: “I’m exactly what you want me to be.” This role is meticulously cultivated through overt praise or subtle conditioning, reducing the Golden Child to a pawn in a painful game.
But this loyalty has a steep cost. By upholding the family narrative and turning against their sibling, the Golden Child becomes complicit in real harm, often encouraged to exclude or belittle the scapegoat, deepening that sibling’s isolation and shame. Less visible is the price paid by the Golden Child’s spirit—chasing approval, avoiding rejection, and losing touch with their authentic self, trapped in a role that demands constant performance and silent self-betrayal.
The benefits are clear: protection, favor, and a shield from the narcissist’s wrath. But these come with a heavy price that no one escapes. In carrying out the family’s dysfunction, the Golden Child trades genuine connection and self-respect for conditional love and temporary safety. Their apparent privilege masks a profound loss of self.
Often overlooked, the enabler is one of the main architects of family pain. Through inaction and avoidance, the enabler allows narcissistic abuse to continue unchecked, believing they are maintaining peace. Yet this appeasement tightens the family’s chains, ensuring the cycle of dysfunction persists. While they may wear the mask of the “good guy,” their role is far from innocent: they never step up to confront or stop the abuse. They may offer small gestures to soothe chaos, creating a false sense of protection that only deepens damage.
Standing on the sidelines, seeming neutral or kind, the enabler is absent when it matters most. Their silence is quiet consent. Psychologically, enablers act out of deep fears—fear of conflict, abandonment, or losing fragile family stability. These anxieties fuel avoidance, reluctance to set boundaries, and failure to hold the narcissist accountable.
The child who fits the tyrannical reality of the narcissistic parent gains the Golden Child’s throne. Like the sacrificial lamb in ancient rites, it is placed on a pedestal; they sacrifice their true self, suppressing needs and desires to meet the perfection demanded. In this role, they become a symbol of the family’s supposed success, masking profound dysfunction.
The Scapegoat and Golden Child both bear heavy burdens shaped by forces beyond their control. The scapegoat openly absorbs blame and pain that others reject, while the golden child quietly sacrifices their authenticity and freedom, desperately working to maintain the family system and secure approval.
The scapegoat’s deepest feeling is “I will never be good enough, I am wrong,” while the golden child believes, “I have to be the savior.” Both make painful sacrifices, hoping to earn love or protect their narcissistic parent by shouldering the family’s weight. It’s a heartbreaking attempt to carry the narcissist’s burdens, punishing themselves in the process.
As adults, these children often gravitate toward partners exhibiting similar narcissistic patterns—a familiarity, harmful as it may be, feels like home. Others may suffer in different ways, yet the thread is consistent: born into families where abuse was normalized, with enablers and narcissistic parents doubling down to perpetuate pain under the guise of protection. This cruel legacy can only be broken by awareness and courage.
The Golden Child, is the sacrificial lamb, like in ancient religious rites, their life is offered for a greater good—in this case, the narcissistic parent’s good. They accept being the phallic object, the trophy. This condemns them to an outwardly successful but inwardly empty life, a lack of enthusiasm hidden behind a shining façade, disassociation and extreme anxiety.
The Golden Child lives on the edge, caught between two extremes: the impeccable public image and a dark, hidden self. Outwardly admired, inwardly crumbling, they eventually sabotage all they built, losing their facade, power, health, or career. They may spiral into addiction, gambling, self-destructive acts, or suicidal thoughts. This collapse reveals the unsustainability of living a lie. The universe leads them to a crossroads: to lose their mask and fall apart. Once possessed by the narcissist, they either become a complete narcissist or begin a healing process, similar to an exorcism, liberating their true selves expelling the invader. Healing requires an experienced therapist who can avoid being sucked into family drama, manage guilt and failure, and help them regain permission to be themselves.
Unlike the Golden Child, whose flawless image traps them, the scapegoat has little left to lose—no mask to uphold or pretense to protect. Though painful, this opens doors to self-awareness and growth, making healing and transformation possible once they break free.
The scapegoat often has more healing potential than the spoiled child, as they are the ones who speak the truth openly in the family, who expose the hidden wounds that others avoid. Although labeled as the “problem,” this outsider status fosters resilience and rebellion, allowing them to survive on their own terms and fight toxicity. It’s not just about surviving; they have to believe it is possible to be happy, although they cannot imagine how. That´s why they have to ask for help, they must internalize protection, acceptance, and unconditional love to rebuild their self-esteem.
Can a narcissistic parent heal? Unlikely. But the Golden Child and Scapegoat can.
Healing begins with crafting a clear and honest story based on the historical facts of your childhood, to understand why and how this happened. Only a coherent account of each manipulation used for brainwashing removes the barriers that prevent acceptance of reality. It means ceasing to protect or excuse the narcissist. Fundamentally, you must understand that you never chose your roles; you were programmed in childhood by someone you loved and depended on, conditioned to sacrifice yourself for a cause that was not your own.
Normalized abuse leaves deep scars—low self-esteem, fear of abandonment, struggles with control, and overwhelming guilt and shame.
Recovery involves reclaiming lost soul pieces, often addressed in retreats with workshops such as Regression to Childhood, Spiritual Releasement techniques, and Soul Retrieval workshops.
Breaking this cycle is possible, but rarely on your own—dissociation often means many memories remain hidden or fragmented. Skilled therapists and healers who understand trance-like states can help gently bring these buried, painful memories to the surface within a safe space. They can guide you through the challenging emotions that arise, especially the deep-rooted guilt that lingers in your heart.
Once freed from this mental and emotional spell, the pieces fall into place. They recognize manipulative tactics, subtle poisonous messages repeated endlessly, and finally break the loop, reclaiming their story and freedom.
Healing is a process, where it is imperative to learn and practices all the techniques we teach during the workshops. Setting boundaries without guilt, finding one’s voice, and understanding love doesn’t come from control. Many times is the therapist who gives permission and support to release the need for external approval unlocking authenticity. Healthy boundaries not only protect but attract people who genuinely respect and care.
Defeating one by one each fear that was keeping the Golden Child in a golden cage and the Scape Goat on the trash can.
Not only Golden Children and Scapegoats suffer; anyone born into normalized abuse are victims who risks repeating these patterns. Trauma bonding is an addiction requiring treatment.
When an adult fears losing an abusive partner, it’s a chip installed in childhood by the abusive parent.
If you’re one of them, I want to tell you that there is a way out. If you accept losing, you will win. Stop resisting; you lose nothing, you only free yourself from your prison. It’s painful to lose illusions, but it’s even more painful to live in them forever. Lift the veil and see that the very person you were so protective of was the one who cast a spell on you. The truth will set you free.
Author: Silvia Polivoy, Ph.D., clinical psychologist, specialized in modified states of consciousness and co-founder of Spirit Vine Retreat Center in Bahia, Brazil.
