Deconstructing Mind Games Part II
Understanding why alienators behave the way they do and what they are really after - STRT June 2026
Quick Announcement
I have opened up a survey for currently alienated parents who are looking to support my research for my book on reunification. If you are comfortable sharing your experiences and your biggest questions, you will help me ensure this is the best possible roadmap for targeted parents.
This survey has two phases. Phase 1 takes about 7 to 10 minutes. Phase 2 goes deeper — about 20 to 25 minutes. Your answers will directly shape what goes into this book. There are no wrong answers. Please read the legal disclaimers carefully. They are required if you choose to take the survey.
Thank you for your courage and support as I research and put this book together. If you have already taken the survey, please share it with others as well.
“It is not difficult to deduce from an individual’s position the kind of childhood he must have had. Unless something or somebody intervenes, he spends the rest of his life stabilizing his position and dealing with situations that threaten it: by avoiding them, warding off certain elements, or manipulating them provocatively so that they are transformed from threats into justifications.”
― Eric Berne, Games People Play
This article is a continuation of Deconstructing Mind Games Part I. While you do not need to read the first article to understand this one, I would encourage you to read both, as they build on each other.
Yes, Mommie Dearest
While researching this article, I stumbled upon Mommie Dearest, a film from the 1980s about Hollywood actress Joan Crawford’s abuse of her adopted daughter, Christina. The film is based on Christina Crawford’s memoir, Mommie Dearest
Critics did not appreciate the movie, saying that the tone was inconsistent and that the scenes of the outraged Joan were excessive to the point of disbelief.
A review from Time Magazine said, “Yes, she occasionally raised her hand to her daughter. But thousands of children suffer far more terrible abuse every day—and don't have backyard swimming pools to soothe their feelings.”
What’s funny is that the audience reception is the complete opposite. Many could sympathize with Christina and could point to stories of their own where such situations occurred.
For me personally, I think the movie held back on depicting the intensity of the abuse. A wire hanger would bend after a real spanking. Plastic hangers break too easily, while wire bends around your body or limbs after the first strike (outcomes which further enraged my alienator). Wooden spoons and spatulas are far more durable but have a wider surface area—a targeted strike to your knuckles or metacarpals though can be excruciatingly painful. Chances are, audiences won’t be able to stomach two hours of this kind of story at its real level.
With all that said, there are actions in the clip above that instantly took me back to recurring moments in my life when my alienator reached a level of rage, behaving like a tornado, destroying everything in her path.
For example, whenever our desks were untidy (meaning our things occupied more than 10% of the available space), she would extend her arm at the end of the desk and sweep everything onto the floor.
My brother, who was diligently working on his art exam one year, unfortunately left his desk cluttered with his art supplies. By the time he found his artwork on the floor, the mess of paint and water had destroyed hours of work, just days before the submission date. He salvaged what he could, rushed to complete what was destroyed, but inevitably failed the exam for incomplete work, bringing his grade from an A to a C. Naturally, he was ridiculed and chastised for scoring so low on art, where he was told that if he were less lazy, he could have scored higher.
Like Joan Crawford, my alienator was obsessed with cleanliness.
Now, I do believe that it is important for children to know how to keep the house clean, cook their own meals, manage their own budgets, and take responsibility.
However, it also has to come from a place of empowering the child to step into adulthood, rather than as a means of control and security for another person.
Her obsession with cleanliness is, and was, a reach for control over her environment. She would regularly invite people over, so I imagine it was partly a show of face. No guest ever commented on the cleanliness of the house, but the alienator would bring it up to the guests to humiliate my brother or me if she felt scorned by us not doing a good enough job. The guests were uncomfortably thrown into a mind game in those moments, where they had to suddenly agree, “Yes, you really have to sweep and mop those corners … that’s where all the dust is.”
While Mommie Dearest may not resonate with critics, I think their analysis is based on the necessary structure to produce a successful film. A recollection of memories based on real-life abuse is never well put together like a novel. There is no buildup to a climax. No clear moral lesson at the end, and characters rarely change in a meaningful way. It is a repetitive cycle until you walk away or someone dies. Without some kind of moral payoff at the end, the story is at best a warning.
And it's not just Christina Crawford. Jeanette McCurdy has also drawn a great deal of public attention from her memoir, I’m Glad My Mom Died, which details her journey through child acting in Hollywood, Mormonism, and her mother’s abuse.
In Educated, Tara Westover shares how the conspiratorial beliefs of her parents in rural Idaho led to a childhood of misinformation, religious indoctrination, lack of education, tolerance of abuse, and life-threatening injuries.
Each of these stories shows how messy real life is, especially with abusive personalities.
The worst part is how personal it all feels. The abuser will treat you with care and deference to build you up, then tear it all away in an instant. They are calm in one moment, and then explode in anger in the next. The wire hanger scene really hits that kind of tension—my only critique is that she had a meltdown towards the end and didn’t frame herself as a victim enough to the children.
The truth is that the behavior of an abuser feels personal, but it is not. They would do that to anyone who was willing to play their games.
Revisiting Games People Play
In Deconstructing Mind Games Part I, I talked about how mind games are used to hijack a situation and manipulate a person toward a certain behavior or action so that the abuser can achieve some kind of payoff, such as emotional release, control of their environment, or the power of shaping another person’s reaction.
I also talked about how the only way to win is not to play the game. No amount of JADE (justify, argue, defend, or explain) can ameliorate the situation.
Pulling from the book, Games People Play by Eric Berne, I showed three common mind games that abusive personalities use in alienation: Alcoholic, See What You Made Me Do, and Now I Got You Son of a Bitch.
Now, the games were framed with the alienator as the primary player. They instigate with a triggering action, extract the payoff, and bait you (the targeted parent) into a script of their design.
But these games are not always coming from the alienator, and it helps to know how to adjust your response if they are coming from your alienated child. Not playing the game is important, but doing so constructively while leaving a door open for your alienated child is a tricky balance.
Several of these games are common in children, and they don’t even know they are doing it. They are just repeating what they have seen from their alienator.
This article continues this with three more mind games to watch out for and how to handle them.
Note: The author is quite cheeky with the names of his games. They will be represented as they are seen in the book.
Sweetheart
Sweetheart is a game played between partners. One makes a subtly derogatory remark about the other (often disguised as an observation or a passing comment) and ends with an endearment…
“Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
The sweet affection at the end is the trap. Another example I once saw with a couple where one person condescended to their partner, “Hey Babe, we are not going to do anything stupid, are we? Yeah? Let’s be stupid, okay?”
The target can’t disagree without seeming petty, so they go along with it.
There are two roles in Sweetheart: the Initiator, who delivers the derogatory remark, and the Validator, who confirms it. In Berne’s version, these are the couple.
Alienators will play this game with anyone who is willing to be a validator. The variations are endless.
Your mother/father abandoned you… I am telling you this because I care about you.
Wow… your mother/father got laid off… how hard is it to hold down a job? Right, Andrew?
You shouldn’t date girls like that, Andrew. Those types like to go out drinking, dancing, just like your mother did… trust me… You want to marry a girl who stays home and studies hard.
The sneaky thing about this game is that it puts you in a position where arguing back is not worth it. You end up nodding along and may even say to yourself that you don’t fully agree. But over time, this reinforces a pattern of simply agreeing to the most inane and condescending remarks from the alienator. Why? Because poison is easier to swallow when it is coated in sugar.
It sounds like it is coming from a good place. And that is how they get you.
A child who sits through enough of these conversations gradually absorbs the conclusion, not because they were convinced by an argument, but because it was repeated so many times.
When a child believes they are not good enough, they have a distorted relationship with criticism, expecting it to the point of needing it to validate the identity that has been thrust upon them. It is almost as though there is a subliminal need to be exposed as insufficient, as a means of feeling safe.
Now that may seem counterintuitive. However, the big challenge that alienated kids face is that they confuse order and predictability with safety. If being called stupid is normal, then not being called stupid makes it seem like something is catastrophically wrong. This is also why logic doesn't work on it. You can't argue someone out of an internalized position.
Sweetheart also has a silent version as well where the “sweetness” is implied but not said out loud. This could be done with body language, facial expressions, or nonchalant expressions like “right?” or “know what I mean?”
Now, at some point, your child may try running Sweetheart with you. They deliver the derogatory observation themselves, softened with a concession or a qualifier that makes disagreement feel insignificant.
“You weren’t really around that much when I was little, were you? I mean, I know you were busy.”
Same structure, and chances are, your kid doesn’t even know they are playing a mind game. What do you do when it comes from your child?
Berne’s antithesis for Sweetheart is counterintuitive. You don’t argue with the anecdote. You object to the endearment by disrupting the frame rather than the content. In alienation, the equivalent is to refuse the validator role without taking the bait.
Something like, “I hear you saying that. I see it differently, but I’m not going to debate your mom’s version of events.”
An aggressive child might push for more answers, but it would not be fruitful to engage in it. The child gets to see, maybe for the first time, that the targeted parent can hold a different view without getting angry or lashing. That matters more than winning the argument because there is no argument to win.
Before moving to the next game, I want to share an inverse version of Sweetheart. Rather than wrapping something insulting in sugar, the reverse would be to wrap something good in something bitter.
One of the most common insults I had ever heard as an alienated child (and I know countless other alienated kids have heard this too) is the phrase, “Just like your mother/father.”
Whenever I got in trouble as a kid, I would be told that I was a liar and a cheater just like my mother. This framing puts the targeted parent at the center of all that could be wrong in the child’s life. It gives them a scapegoat to blame for all their hardship and pain in life.
Courtroom
Courtroom is your classic situation of sibling rivalry, where both kids are mad and they want you to step in and solve the issue. Unfortunately, these childish dynamics make their way into the adult world with far bigger stakes and consequences.
Alienation, family court, marital therapy, family gossip and drama… You name it.
If there is a situation where one party is riled up and complains about the other party while putting a supposedly neutral member in the middle to judge who is right and wrong, you have entered the courtroom. The argument is the game, and whoever sways the judge to their favor wins.
The structure is simple. A plaintiff files a complaint. A defendant responds with a rebuttal. Both appeal to the judge for a verdict. In marital counseling, the judge is the therapist. In family court, the judge is literal. In parental alienation, the judge is often the child.
The alienator is a natural plaintiff.
They present their case with intense feeling, graphic detail, and wounded sincerity that is very hard to argue against in front of an audience. Think of the accusations that the alienator has made against you. Chances are, they are so extreme that someone on the outside would assume it was the truth because of how ridiculous it was.
I once saw an alienated child turn on her grandmother, saying that she was peeing on her food and serving it to her.
If someone you were getting to know told you that, your natural impulse would be to assume the grandmother was at fault. To assume someone would say something so untrue about another person would be unthinkable. But that’s the thing about these kinds of extreme lies. You don’t start to notice it is all fabrications until you have seen a bunch of them.
Another alienated child I know remains estranged because he believes his father solicited prostitutes and has a bastard child in Southeast Asia. Again, there are definitely people out there who will fit that profile, but most people are just trying to do the right thing.
Now this puts the targeted parent in a tricky spot because the moment they open their mouth to explain, they have accepted the terms of the trial and are now the defendant.
The courtroom is in session.
This is where Furthermore enters. It’s a variant that Berne describes, in which the plaintiff doesn’t actually listen to the defense. Instead, they jump in and pile on to their original accusation by saying, “Furthermore…” and adding another accusation.
Each time, the defendant keeps trying to respond to all these accusations. The game was never about the facts. It’s about exhausting the defendant until they either break down or say something that can be used against them.
Chances are, you have experienced this in family court. Alienators, especially those with money, will use the court to wear you down and take away whatever savings and emotional stability you have to try to hurt you. The longer the trial, the more exciting the game for the plaintiff.
In many situations, your child is the appointed judge, where the alienator piles on these damning accusations, forcing you to fumble a defense on the spot.
As I mentioned before, games like these are set up to intentionally lure you in at your own expense. Which means that the way to win is not to play. The courtroom only runs as long as there’s a defendant willing to show up.
Look How Hard I’ve Tried
No more wire hangers.
This is the mind game shown in the video from Mommie Dearest. Here she was saying she worked so hard to care for children, only to be backstabbed by having their clothes hanging on a wire hanger… presumably because it might damage the clothes.
There are other examples of alienation where you might see this game as therapy.
The alienator agrees to therapy. They show up, go through the motions, and slowly become more difficult, resentful, and argumentative.
After a handful of sessions, they stop coming and say the therapist was ineffective. The process didn’t work. They tried… they really tried, but it didn’t work out.
Now the targeted parent is forced to either drop it or escalate. If they escalate, they look unreasonable. If they drop it, the alienator starts telling others, “I went to therapy. I tried co-parenting classes. I tried mediation. Look how hard I tried. He/She doesn’t get it.”
The aim here is vindication. If other people think you did your best and acknowledge it wasn’t working, then you don’t have to do it. This game is usually paired with weaponized incompetence.
At home, the alienator runs it on the child directly, and this is where it does its most serious damage. The child becomes the audience for the alienator’s martyrdom. The examples sound like this:
“I’ve been working two jobs since your mother/father left just to keep us in this house. I never complain, but it’s a lot.”
“I tried so hard to make that marriage work. I gave up everything. You’ll understand when you’re older.”
“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this on my own. But don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“Your mother/father made a lot of promises. I kept mine. That’s all I can say.”
“After all I did for you!”
None of these are direct attacks, and they don’t have to be. The child starts to visualize the alienator as a victim in a tragedy where no matter how hard they try, they cannot hold everything together, and the targeted parent is the reason it’s been this hard.
What this does to the child is more insidious than it first appears. The child is being recruited as a witness and as an emotional caretaker. Once a child understands that the alienator’s suffering is connected to the targeted parent’s existence, reconnecting with that parent feels like inflicting another wound on someone who has already tried so hard and survived so much. The child’s loyalty becomes a form of protection. They are not refusing to visit by shielding the alienator from further perceived “emotional harm.”
This game has three degrees of intensity, and the alienator may escalate through all of them.
First degree is the visible effort. The alienator announces that they are trying loudly enough for the right people to hear. They document it and mention it to mutual friends, family, and the child. The performance is the point, and the audience is anyone who might later serve as a witness.
Second degree is the silent suffering. The alienator says nothing about how hard things are until they collapse from a health crisis or breakdown (Mommie Dearest). After my alienator went into remission, cancer was her version of “Look How Hard I Tried.” Anytime she was upset, she would scream, “I went through cancer and survived, and you can’t do one simple thing like clean the house properly? What are you trying to do, kill me faster?”
Third degree is the irreversible move. In alienation, this is the accusation or action that permanently closes the door like a restraining order, abduction, or an accusation so damaging that repair with the targeted parent becomes nearly impossible. This can also include suicide.
The antithesis for targeted parents follows the same logic as the game itself. Do not become the persecutor the game requires.
Concluding Thoughts
“Everyone carries his parents around inside of him.”
― Eric Berne, Games People Play
Joseph Campbell once said, “Heaven and Hell are in between the moments of now and the present.”
What he meant was that our state of mind in the present moment reflects our life experience, and we have the option to make it a blissful one, in which we adapt to challenges and setbacks, or an agonizing one, in which we catastrophize over everything that does not go our way.
And based on that logic, I think it is safe to assume that the alienator is already in a place of eternal torment where they are simultaneously the devil of the inferno and the condemned.
They could walk out anytime. Choose kindness and joy over a life of sorrow, distrust, and vindictiveness. Yet it seems they lack the strength and the wisdom to do so. Or perhaps their identity is fixated on being such a caustic individual, with no conception of any possible alternative, because they have already ruled it out as weak or inadequate. The irony of their abuse lies in their own feelings of inadequacy.
Call me a delusional bleeding optimist, but I think life is far more rewarding when you choose to live it joyfully rather than cynically.
Making a lot of progress on the book. More updates to come next month. :)
Until next time,
Andrew Folkler
Are you a writer on Substack?
If you write articles on alienation or estrangement let me know! I would be happy to exchange recommendations to better support our readers.
If you are a general reader who writes about other topics on Substack, please consider recommending Shortening the Red Thread, as that helps other parents find this newsletter so they can get the support they need to reunite.
As always, I deeply appreciate all your support, and I am grateful for your feedback as I develop these articles.
Liked this article? Here are other articles you may be interested in:
How to Support Your Alienated Child When You Cannot Fully Protect Them
How to Talk With Your Alienated Child When They Don’t Want to Talk To You