Toxic Siblings: Why the Golden Child Doesn’t Want You to Get Better
The topic of toxic siblings is one of the hardest parts of healing from a narcissistic family system. When we start talking about narcissistic abuse, most people immediately think of the narcissistic parent — the one who manipulates, dominates, and controls. Or they think of the enabler, the parent who quietly maintains the illusion of family harmony while protecting the narcissist’s image.
But what happens when the people who sabotage your healing aren’t your parents — but your own siblings?
That’s what I want to explore here: the sibling dynamic inside the narcissistic family system, especially the painful reality that sometimes, your brother or sister doesn’t actually want you to get better.
The Roles: Scapegoat and Golden Child
In narcissistic families, roles aren’t chosen — they’re assigned.
When there are multiple children, the narcissistic parent unconsciously (or sometimes very consciously) divides the family into “roles” to maintain control and balance their own fragile ego. The two classic roles are the scapegoat and the golden child.
The scapegoat becomes the emotional trash bin of the family. Every negative feeling, every source of shame or anger, every unresolved issue gets projected onto them. They are blamed for everything that goes wrong — but the blame isn’t really about them. It’s the family’s unprocessed pain being dumped on one person.
The golden child, on the other hand, is the one who can “do no wrong.” They are the reflection of the narcissistic parent’s idealized self. Everything good is attributed to them. They are held up as proof that the family is fine — that the parent is good, that there’s no real dysfunction.
The golden child may not always receive endless praise, but they are spared from abuse. They witness it, but they are not the target. And that difference, being spared, is what makes all the difference later on.
Why the Golden Child Can Become a Traitor
The golden child is still raised in the same toxic atmosphere as the scapegoat. They are still exposed to emotional manipulation, control, and fear. But their survival strategy looks different.
Because they are rewarded for compliance, they learn that their safety comes from alignment with the narcissistic parent. They learn that love is conditional — but they’ve found a way to meet those conditions.
As adults, this often turns into self-centeredness or even narcissistic tendencies of their own. They may not be outright abusers, but they internalize the same belief system that “power = safety” and “denial = peace.”
When you — the scapegoat — begin to heal, to tell the truth, to name what actually happened, you threaten that entire system.
Your healing becomes dangerous because it exposes the illusion that has protected them all along.
When My Brother Chose Comfort Over Truth
For most of my life, I believed my brother and I were on the same team. We shared the same childhood, after all. We saw the same things, heard the same words, lived under the same roof. So when I began therapy, I was honest with him about what I was going through.
I told him about my nervous system dysregulation — how I couldn’t function the same way anymore, how the anxiety and panic were real. I expected understanding, maybe even compassion.
Instead, I was met with denial, invalidation, and lies.
At first, I didn’t see it for what it was. It’s hard to see toxic behavior in someone you love, especially a sibling you’ve always felt protective over. I kept making excuses for him: “He doesn’t mean it,” “He’s just stressed,” “He’s not ready to talk about it.”
But the truth was much harder: he was actively invalidating me, sometimes even going behind my back to share degrading things about me with others.
I didn’t want to believe it. My mind kept saying he’s my brother, while my body — that deep intuitive knowing — kept saying something’s wrong.
The Breaking Point
The turning point came with one specific event.
At the time, I was living abroad, and my mom had planned to visit me. My dad was against the idea — controlling as always. So, he called my brother and told him to convince my mom not to go.
And that’s exactly what happened. My brother called my mom, told her it was dangerous, irresponsible, and that she shouldn’t go.
When I confronted him, his response was a flat-out lie:
“I haven’t spoken to Mom or Dad in a month.”
I knew it wasn’t true. When I called him out, he brushed it off. He said something like,
“I don’t care if you believe me. I’m living separately from everyone now. I’m not part of your drama.”
That moment shattered something in me.
It wasn’t just the lie — it was the ease with which he lied, and the indifference that followed. From that point forward, I started seeing his behavior clearly for the first time. The pattern had always been there: invalidate, deny, dismiss. I just hadn’t wanted to see it.
The Realization
Once you start healing, you begin to see family dynamics for what they truly are. And that can be heartbreaking.
I realized that every time I tried to share something real, my brother’s instinct was to shut it down. To minimize, to question, to reframe. It wasn’t because he didn’t care about me as a person, it was because my truth made him uncomfortable.
Acknowledging my pain would force him to confront the reality of our family. It would mean admitting that the childhood he’s built his identity around wasn’t healthy, that our parents weren’t the people he wanted to believe they were.
And he simply wasn’t willing to do that.
So instead, he chose the easier path: protect the illusion, even if it means betraying the truth.
Why the Golden Child Doesn’t Want You to Get Better
Here’s what I’ve learned from this process: the golden child often doesn’t want you to heal — not because they’re evil or cruel — but because your healing demands that they question their entire worldview.
- Your pain challenges their comfort.
- Your truth threatens their denial.
- Your recovery exposes what they’ve worked so hard to avoid seeing.
In a narcissistic family, everyone learns survival strategies. Yours was to absorb the pain and seek healing. Theirs was to deny the pain and protect the image.
Healing for you feels like liberation.
Healing for them feels like danger.
That’s why they often react with hostility, avoidance, or mockery when you start talking about therapy, trauma, or self-awareness. It’s not that they don’t understand — it’s that they can’t afford to.
Choosing Distance
Eventually, I made a hard but necessary choice: to limit contact with my brother.
Not out of hatred, but out of self-protection.
You can’t reason with someone who is committed to denial. You can’t build connection with someone who sees your pain as an inconvenience. And you can’t heal in an environment that keeps reactivating the same wounds you’re trying to close.
In a narcissistic family system, the scapegoat often ends up walking alone — not because they want to, but because solitude becomes safer than betrayal.
It’s a painful truth. But it’s also where real healing begins.
When you stop trying to convince the golden child to see you, you finally begin to see yourself.
Closing Reflection about the Golden Child and the Scapegoat
If you’ve experienced this dynamic — if your sibling denies your story or resents your growth — it doesn’t mean you’re wrong or too sensitive. It means your body and intuition are finally recognizing the truth your family worked hard to suppress.
Here is another article in which I detail the subtle forms of sibling sabotage >>