The Truth About Manipulation and BPD
When I was a teenager, I absolutely manipulated my mom. I lied, pushed, begged, bargained, emotionally blackmailed / made threats - whatever it took to get what I thought I needed. I’m not proud of that, and it’s painful to look back on. But I think we have to ask why.
The thing about BPD is that you live by a different set of standards. When you’re in that headspace, life doesn’t feel like it’s about growth or long-term goals - it’s about making it through the next moment, about survival, about escape. I wasn’t thinking, “How can I build trust with my mom? How can I show her I’m ready for more responsibility?” I was thinking, “I can’t stand this feeling one more second. I need out.”
And so, I would do whatever it took to get out. That tunnel vision sometimes meant disconnecting from my own conscience, from my sense of right and wrong.
I know that sounds inhuman - and I know how much it hurts to be on the receiving end. To be lied to, to feel betrayed, have your trust broken. Parents and loved ones, it’s awful. I don’t want to minimize that pain. It’s excruciating to feel that the relationship you’ve built and nurtured, and the love and effort you’ve poured in, somehow aren’t “enough” to keep your child connected or compel them to act differently in those moments.
I’m deeply ashamed of how I behaved. And I also remember, vividly, how dissociated and out of control I was. So I want to start there. Talking about what’s going on, not to excuse it, but to explain it. So we can see it for what it really is, and begin doing the work that’s really needed.
What the “Manipulative” Part Is Trying to Do
If you recognize yourself in this - if you know there’ve been times you bulldozed over your parent’s feelings, did something you later regretted, felt shame about your own behavior but also misunderstood or justified at the same time - I want you to know you’re not an “evil” person.
What we’re ashamed of, we can’t look at. And if we can’t be honest about this part of ourselves - its impulses and maneuvers - then we can’t begin to understand why it’s there. So please start by having compassion for that part of you.
What is that part usually doing? Trying to do whatever it has to do to feel okay. Even if that means manipulating, lying, betraying, or fleeing. (Honestly, I sometimes think “manipulate” could be its own branch of fight, flight, freeze - it’s like, I will do whatever I have to do to survive this moment.)
Real growth begins when we start to integrate - when we can pause and ask, “What am I really wanting right now? What’s underneath this?” Because the truth is, the real ask is usually something deeper: freedom, peace, understanding, safety.
There’s usually something extremely vulnerable underneath the manipulation. Something like:
I don’t feel in control of my own life.
I don’t feel accepted or loved.
I don’t feel capable.
The manipulation becomes a defense mechanism to avoid those unbearable feelings. For example: I might manipulate my way into staying home from school because deep down, I feel ashamed and behind - I don’t think I can handle it. Or I might manipulate my way into being allowed to go out with friends because I already feel different, wrong, on the outside.
It’s not about getting what we want - it’s about protecting ourselves from what we fear we can’t handle.
Patience, Perspective, and the Bigger Ask
When your teen is manipulative, it’s easy to see it as a power struggle. It can feel like they’re out to get you, that they don’t care about your boundaries, or that they’re intent on winning at all costs.
But the manipulation isn’t driven by disrespect, malice, or evil. It’s driven by panic. By a young person who doesn’t yet have the self-awareness or skills to say: “I feel trapped. I need comfort. I want to feel control in my own life.” Instead, it comes out sideways: “Can I have the car?” or “Give me my phone back.”
That doesn’t make the lying or bargaining okay, but it does change how we respond. It takes a lot - a lot - of patience to go a level above the defense mechanisms and outbursts and see what’s really going on. Underneath, there’s usually a person who feels trapped, afraid, and desperate, acting in irresponsible, ineffective, or inconsiderate ways to get their needs met. It doesn’t mean you bend to the demand. But rather than seeing them as someone cunning or untrustworthy (which only creates distance and resentment) know that this usually has nothing to do with you.
As an example - for me, and many young people I work with, driving was one of the only ways I knew how to feel free or in control. I had broken trust with my parents more times than I could count. I was failing school. My life felt like a wreck. But when I drove, I felt “normal,” like I was finally in my own world, literally in the driver’s seat.
Of course, I didn’t know that at the time. I just felt something and acted toward it. So yes, I manipulated my mom. I told her how horrible I felt, that I couldn’t handle life, that I would hurt myself if I couldn’t drive. It was emotional blackmail. And it wasn’t okay.
What I needed wasn’t for her to bend to my will or give in. That wouldn’t have taught me anything about tolerating discomfort or working toward a meaningful goal. It only reinforced the idea that every time I felt overwhelmed, I had to get out instead of get through.
But it also wasn’t helpful for her to just be furious with me, even though she had every right to be. Because while what I did was wrong, it wasn’t about hurting her - it was about trying not to feel the hurt that I was drowning in.
I think “manipulative” is one of those words that gets thrown around a lot talking about people with mental health challenges or BPD. And culturally, while we may disagree on almost everything, one thing most people seem to agree on is that being “manipulative” is bad - deceptive, dishonest, self-serving. It’s one of the ugliest labels we can put on someone.
But here’s the problem: what we feel shame for, we can’t investigate. Shame blocks self-honesty. It makes us turn away from the very parts of ourselves that need understanding the most. When we feel that deep sense of wrongness, we lose the chance to learn from it.
So no, we don’t make it okay. We don’t excuse the harm manipulation causes. But we can start to see it differently: as a strategy, as desperation, as an attempt to avoid pain. When we view it through that lens, we can finally begin to work with it -to bring it into awareness, to understand it, and to choose something different next time.
What Can Help
If you’re a parent navigating this, here are a few things that can truly make a difference:
1. Validate the emotion, not the behavior.
When your child is in panic or desperation, try to imagine what is underneath it. Do they feel left out? Misunderstood? Powerless? You might say, “I know how frustrating it is to feel like you can’t do what your friends are,” or “I know you’re scared and overwhelmed right now and trying to find a way out.”
2. Address the years that have led to these moments.
If your child is having ongoing struggles with BPD, they likely need consistent mental health support to start developing self-awareness and regulation skills. The truth is, there are often years of ruptures and mistrust that make it hard to repair things in a single moment.
There was no way I could have repaired years of pain and disconnection with my parents in one argument or one apology. For things to really shift, we had to go back and address the history that brought us there. Sometimes that means having support to help facilitate healing—to rebuild trust and communication slowly, with structure and guidance.
A qualified family therapist, or even a family-intensive program, can be incredibly helpful for this. Often, our expectations for quick change are too high. Real repair takes time, consistency, and a willingness to acknowledge the pain that’s been carried for a long time. That’s the groundwork that allows healing to truly begin.
3. Create a shared language.
One of the most helpful tools for someone with BPD is having language to name what’s happening. Encourage them to use identify where they go, and use phrases like, “I’m in a reactive headspace,” or “I’m on isolation island,” or “I’m in anger mode.”
Language helps bring awareness to the moment and have a shared understanding. Having words for what’s happening helps us start to be outside of the experience, even just a little bit. Sometimes, that language can be the thing that helps us pause or step back for a moment, and see what we’re doing.
4. Help them build a life they don’t need to manipulate their way out of.
When I was miserable, I manipulated constantly. But when I started building a life that felt meaningful, connected, and safe, I didn’t need to anymore. This is long-term work. It requires time, patience, and sometimes professional support.
None of this is simple or quick. But these are the directions I believe are most helpful to look toward: understanding what’s underneath, getting the right support in place, and slowly helping your child build a life that feels worth staying present for.
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