Therapy for Adult Children of Narcissistic Parents: What Actually Works (and Why Regular Talk Therapy Often Doesn’t)
Therapy for adult children of narcissistic parents requires more than talk. Understanding your mother’s narcissism doesn’t heal the visceral, body-held belief that you were never quite enough. This clinical guide explains what actually works. The specific modalities that reach the implicit wounds. And what to look for in a therapist who won’t inadvertently repeat the harm.
Last reviewed: June 2026 by Annie Wright, LMFT
- Understanding, Not Healing: The Gap Between Insight and Transformation
- What Adult Children of Narcissistic Parents Actually Need From Therapy
- Why Regular Talk Therapy Often Doesn’t Work. And What Does
- The Modalities That Actually Reach the Wound
- Finding a Therapist Who Won’t Inadvertently Repeat the Wound
- Both/And: You Love Your Parent and You Were Harmed By Them
- The Systemic Lens: Why Driven Women From Narcissistic Families Often Wait Decades
- How to Heal: The Path Forward
- Frequently Asked Questions
Therapy for adult children of narcissistic parents works best when it addresses the specific relational trauma patterns formed in childhood, not just surface-level coping strategies. Standard talk therapy often falls short because it doesn’t reach the body-based, preverbal wounds that narcissistic parenting creates. Trauma-informed approaches like EMDR, somatic therapy, and Internal Family Systems are more effective because they target the nervous system, not just cognition. In my work with driven women who grew up with narcissistic parents, the hardest part is usually learning to trust that a therapist’s warmth isn’t a manipulation.
In short: Therapy for adult children of narcissistic parents works best when it’s trauma-informed and body-based, targeting the nervous-system wounds that standard talk therapy doesn’t reach.
If you're ready for the full healing arc, not a single piece of it, my signature program Fixing the Foundations is the structured path your relational trauma recovery has been missing.
Annie Wright, LMFT, has specialized in relational trauma recovery across more than 15,000 clinical hours, observing firsthand why adult children of narcissists need approaches beyond conventional insight-oriented therapy. The research of Bessel van der Kolk, MD, psychiatrist and trauma researcher, confirms that trauma is stored in the body and requires somatic as well as cognitive intervention (van der Kolk 2014).
Understanding, Not Healing: The Gap Between Insight and Transformation
Rania, 38, an emergency medicine physician, had always prided herself on her ability to dissect complex problems. She could diagnose a rare condition in minutes, manage hospital politics with surgical precision, and hold a chaotic ER together with an almost unnerving calm. Her own life was a different story. Especially the echoes of her childhood, which she still couldn’t look at directly without feeling perpetually lost.
She’d started therapy at 32 after her first marriage dissolved. For two years, she diligently attended sessions, learning to articulate her mother’s narcissism with clinical accuracy. She understood the developmental impact, the subtle ways it had shaped her into a woman who fawns in relationships, struggles to receive care, and compulsively overworks to preempt criticism. She could explain, in the language of therapy, why she was the way she was. But understanding, she discovered, was not healing. The profound, visceral sense of unworthiness remained, a phantom limb ache that no amount of intellectual insight could soothe.
Now 38, Rania was starting over. A new therapist, one specializing in complex trauma, sat across from her. As Rania began her well-rehearsed explanation of her mother’s pervasive self-absorption, the therapist gently interrupted her. “I hear you understanding it very well,” she said, her voice calm but direct. “Can I ask, where do you feel this in your body right now?” Rania paused, the familiar narrative catching in her throat. A sensation stirred in her sternum, a tightness she’d never once named aloud. In that quiet therapy office, the pause stretched, heavy with an unasked question, and a small, nascent hope for a different kind of healing.
What Adult Children of Narcissistic Parents Actually Need From Therapy
Growing up with a narcissistic parent is not merely challenging. It is a profound form of chronic relational trauma. That distinction matters clinically, because the parent’s consistent prioritization of their own emotional needs, for admiration, validation, or control, at the expense of the child’s authentic developmental needs, creates a specific and enduring wound. The child learns that their value is contingent upon their ability to serve the parent’s ego, which leads to a distorted sense of self oriented toward external approval rather than internal validation.
In adulthood, this often shows up as a pervasive difficulty identifying one’s own desires and needs, a compulsive self-sufficiency born from the dangerous reality that asking for support could invite criticism or abandonment, a deep and often hidden shame, and a relentless drivenness. It’s a tireless pursuit of achievement that’s partly genuine ambition and partly a continued, unconscious attempt to finally be “enough” in the eyes of an internalized, critical parent.
What adult children of narcissistic parents most need from therapy is not more insight. They need a therapeutic relationship that provides what the family of origin could not: consistent validation, genuine curiosity about their inner experience, and a corrective emotional relationship in which their authentic needs are welcomed rather than weaponized.
A pattern of chronic, developmental relational trauma in which the parent consistently uses the child to meet the parent’s own emotional needs for admiration, validation, or control, resulting in a child whose sense of self develops around the parent’s requirements rather than her own authentic experience. This dynamic often leads to emotional unavailability, conditional affection, and disrupted parent-child attachment, significantly impacting the child’s psychological and relational development.
In plain terms: When a parent consistently prioritizes their own needs and ego above their child’s, the child learns that their worth is tied to how well they serve the parent. This creates deep-seated issues with self-worth, identity, and relationships that persist into adulthood, even when the adult has intellectually understood exactly what happened.
Why Regular Talk Therapy Often Doesn’t Work. And What Does
The impact of narcissistic family wounding doesn’t stay contained to psychological patterns. It gets embedded in the neurobiology of the person carrying it. The wounds inflicted in these environments aren’t merely cognitive or narrative. They live in implicit memory, in the body’s conditioned responses to perceived threats of disapproval, criticism, and abandonment. I keep coming back to the work of Daniel Siegel, MD, clinical professor of psychiatry at UCLA and a pioneer in interpersonal neurobiology, because it names something I watch happen in session constantly: early relational experiences shape the developing brain’s capacity for self-regulation and attachment. In a narcissistic family system, that development often gets skewed, leaving neural pathways that stay hyper-vigilant to external cues and quick to erase the self in favor of the room.
This neurobiological reality explains why traditional talk therapy, operating primarily at the cognitive and narrative levels, often falls short for adult children of narcissistic parents. While intellectual insight and understanding are valuable, they alone cannot access or re-pattern the implicit memories that drive conditioned emotional and behavioral responses. A driven woman might articulate her mother’s narcissism with clinical fluency, yet find herself compulsively people-pleasing in her relationships or struggling to set boundaries. This disconnect highlights the gap between intellectual comprehension and embodied healing. The implicit wounds, stored in subcortical systems, require therapeutic approaches that can directly engage these non-verbal, non-narrative aspects of memory.
Non-verbal, non-narrative memory encoded in subcortical systems and the body, where conditioned emotional and behavioral responses to relational cues are stored and from which they are triggered below conscious awareness. This includes responses like approval-seeking, fawning, and self-erasure, adaptations often developed in response to narcissistic family dynamics. Research by Damis (2022) highlights the critical role implicit memory plays in the development and recovery from trauma-related disorders.
In plain terms: This is the kind of memory that lives in your body, not just your mind. It’s the automatic way you react to certain situations or people, often without even thinking about it, because your body learned to respond that way to protect itself during childhood. Talk therapy alone often can’t reach these deep, ingrained patterns.
What makes this particularly complicated for driven women from narcissistic families is that many of the adaptive strategies they developed in childhood, hypervigilance, emotional self-sufficiency, perfectionism as a bid for safety, are the same traits that made them professionally successful. This creates a paradox: the very coping mechanisms the narcissistic family system demanded get rewarded in workplaces that prize relentless output. Which means the wound is harder to see. It looks like competence. Pete Walker, MA, a therapist whose book Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving I hand to almost every client who grew up performing for a narcissistic parent, describes this as the “fawn” response in action: an adaptive orientation toward reading and managing others’ emotional states that, in childhood, was a survival skill, and in adulthood, feels like a personality trait rather than a pattern to heal. In my work with adult children of narcissistic parents who are also senior leaders or executives, this distinction, between who they actually are and who they learned to be in order to survive, is often the most disorienting and most healing insight of the whole process.
The Modalities That Actually Reach the Wound
For driven women like Rania, who possess a keen intellect but find themselves stuck in familiar, painful patterns, the path to healing requires therapeutic modalities that can bypass the cognitive and engage directly with the implicit, body-based memories of trauma.
I think of a chief legal officer at a prominent tech firm, 40 years old, who spent two years in traditional talk therapy meticulously cataloging the injustices of her childhood and the insidious ways her narcissistic father had undermined her self-worth. She could articulate the dynamics with chilling clarity, yet the gnawing sense of inadequacy persisted, showing up as relentless perfectionism and a fear of failure that shadowed her every success. It wasn’t until she began EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) therapy that something shifted. As she put it to her new therapist: “The first time I processed a memory in EMDR, I realized that knowing my father was narcissistic had not changed the fact that part of me still believed I deserved it.”
EMDR is a powerful, evidence-based psychotherapy specifically designed to help individuals process distressing memories and reduce their lasting effects. It works by facilitating the brain’s natural healing process, allowing it to reprocess traumatic events that may have been improperly stored in implicit memory. For adult children of narcissistic parents, EMDR can be particularly effective in addressing the core beliefs of unworthiness, shame, and fear that were ingrained during childhood.
Internal Family Systems (IFS), developed by Richard Schwartz, PhD, clinical psychologist and family therapist, is a model I return to constantly with this population because it recognizes that the self is made up of various “parts,” some of which carry the pain and unworthiness (Exiles), and others that have developed protective strategies (Managers and Firefighters) to cope with the trauma. In narcissistic family systems, children often develop parts that are highly attuned to the parent’s needs, sacrificing their own authentic self in the process. IFS helps someone access their core Self, a place of compassion, clarity, and courage, in order to heal these wounded parts and integrate the protective ones.
Somatic Experiencing, developed by Peter Levine, PhD, biophysicist and psychologist, is another body-oriented approach that addresses the physiological responses to trauma. It helps individuals track and release the stored energy of trauma in the body, allowing the nervous system to self-regulate and restore its natural capacity for resilience. For those who grew up with narcissistic parents, where emotional expression was often suppressed or punished, Somatic Experiencing can be instrumental in reconnecting with the body’s innate wisdom.
Here’s the caveat I give every client who asks me about these modalities: they’re highly effective, but their success for adult children of narcissistic parents hinges on working with a narcissism-literate therapist, someone who understands the specific texture of narcissistic family dynamics and won’t inadvertently repeat the invalidating patterns of the past. For more on choosing the right therapeutic approach, explore my guide to trauma-informed therapy.
“The truth about our childhood is stored up in our body, and although we can repress it, we can never alter it.”
ALICE MILLER, psychoanalyst, The Drama of the Gifted Child
Finding a Therapist Who Won’t Inadvertently Repeat the Wound
For adult children of narcissistic parents, finding a therapist is a critical act of self-preservation. This population is at a heightened risk of re-traumatization within the therapeutic relationship itself if the therapist isn’t acutely aware of how narcissistic family dynamics actually operate. The therapeutic space has to be a corrective emotional experience, not a repeat of past harms.
There are three specific ways in which a well-meaning but narcissism-uninformed therapist can inadvertently repeat the original wound:
- Minimizing the parent’s behavior: Phrases like “I’m sure she did her best” or “Your mother probably loved you in her own way” can be deeply invalidating. For someone who has spent a lifetime having their reality denied, such statements can feel like a profound betrayal, echoing the gaslighting they experienced in childhood.
- Requiring the client to take the parent’s perspective prematurely: While empathy for one’s parents can be a goal of therapy, demanding it before the client’s own experience has been fully validated and grieved can be harmful. It forces the client back into the exact role she’s desperately trying to break: prioritizing the parent’s feelings over her own.
- Replicating the narcissistic dynamic: A therapist who is dismissive, overly intellectual, or whose approval feels conditional can inadvertently mirror the very relational style that caused the original trauma. Driven women, having spent their lives meticulously reading rooms and monitoring for relational threats, will instinctively sense if the therapeutic relationship is truly safe. Trusting that perception is paramount.
A narcissism-informed therapeutic relationship, in contrast, is characterized by steady validation, genuine curiosity, and an unwavering commitment to the client’s subjective experience. There’s no requirement to forgive or reconcile before the wound is fully understood and processed. Instead, the therapist holds space for the complexity of the client’s feelings, acknowledging the impact of their past without judgment or minimization. This creates a secure base from which the client can finally explore her authentic self, often for the first time in her life.
Both/And: You Love Your Parent and You Were Harmed By Them
One of the most challenging paradoxes for adult children of narcissistic parents is the profound ambivalence they often carry. It’s the simultaneous truth that the parent who failed to see them, who used them to meet their own emotional needs, was also, in their own limited capacity, a source of love or connection. Or perhaps the parent who inflicted harm was also the one who instilled a fierce work ethic, a relentless drive, or a refined aesthetic sensibility.
This “Both/And” isn’t a call to “forgive and forget,” nor does it imply that the parent is irredeemable. Rather, it’s an acknowledgment that both genuine harm and genuine love (or at minimum, genuine connection) can coexist within the same relationship. The therapeutic process doesn’t demand a choice between these truths. Instead, it creates space to hold them simultaneously.
Fatima, 43, a physician-scientist, articulated this complex grief to her therapist with quiet intensity. “I don’t know how to grieve a parent who’s still alive and still telling me who to be,” she confessed. Her mother, a brilliant but emotionally volatile academic, had always treated Fatima’s achievements as extensions of her own, offering praise only when Fatima excelled and criticism when she faltered. Fatima’s entire career had been a relentless pursuit of her mother’s elusive approval, even as she intellectually understood its futility.
The grief she spoke of wasn’t for a parent lost to death, but for the parent she never had, the one capable of unconditional love and authentic connection. This form of grief, for the parent who was and wasn’t there at the same time, is one of the most specific and often unacknowledged forms of loss I see in this clinical population. It doesn’t require the parent’s physical death or departure to begin. It’s a grief for what was absent, for what could have been, and for the self that got lost in the struggle to be seen. For more on relational trauma recovery and the specific grief work it involves, explore our full guide.
The Systemic Lens: Why Driven Women From Narcissistic Families Often Wait Decades
The driven woman who grew up in a narcissistic family often faces a unique systemic obstacle that delays her healing, sometimes for decades. Her outward success, her medical degree, her executive title, her thriving business, is frequently misread, by her family, by society, and even by herself, as evidence that her childhood wasn’t truly harmful. “You’re a physician. You run a department. You seem fine.” That’s the unspoken message, or sometimes the explicitly stated one.
This survivorship logic of success acts as a powerful concealer of deep, internal wounds. The narrative that success negates past trauma is particularly insidious for this population, because their drivenness is often, in part, a direct adaptation to their narcissistic upbringing: a desperate attempt to prove their worth, to earn love, or to escape the perceived inadequacy instilled in them.
Many driven women from narcissistic families were also historically the “golden child,” the family’s success story, the one whose achievements brought pride and validation to the narcissistic parent. There’s a particular betrayal in naming the wound, because confronting the reality of the harm means acknowledging that the family’s investment in her success was never truly about her well-being. It was about how her accomplishments reflected on the parent. That realization can be profoundly destabilizing, because it shatters a long-held, albeit painful, illusion of connection and purpose.
The broader therapy community has also been slow to fully recognize driven adults as potential carriers of Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD). This lag in understanding has historically left many driven women in therapeutic settings suited to less severe presentations of trauma, rather than to the deep, relational, and neurobiological wounds of narcissistic family systems. If you recognize these patterns in yourself, connecting with a narcissism-literate, trauma-informed therapist is the most important step you can take.
There’s also a practical dimension worth naming: driven women in demanding careers often cannot afford to be visibly destabilized. A surgeon can’t take a week off in the middle of trauma therapy to grieve her childhood. An attorney in the middle of a trial can’t fall apart because a somatic session opened something that needed more time to close. That means trauma-informed therapy for this population has to be paced thoughtfully, titrated, in clinical language, so that healing happens in a container that doesn’t shatter the professional life she’s built. A therapist who understands this demographic knows how to hold the depth of the work while respecting the genuine demands of her external world. That calibration is part of what you’re looking for when you’re vetting a therapist. Not someone who minimizes the work, but someone who understands how to do it without asking you to burn down the life you’ve built in order to heal it.
How to Heal: The Path Forward
For the driven woman who has recognized the profound impact of narcissistic parenting, the path forward isn’t about quick fixes or platitudes. It’s about engaging in concrete, clinical, and actionable steps toward healing, reclaiming the self that was lost or distorted in the service of another’s ego, and building a foundation of internal security that was never provided in childhood.
The core of this work is finding a therapist who is not only trauma-informed but also deeply familiar with the specific dynamics of narcissistic family systems. The focus is on creating a therapeutic environment that’s consistently validating, genuinely curious, and free from the conditional approval that characterized your upbringing. This is where the real work of re-parenting the self begins.
Key elements of this path forward include:
- Specialized Trauma Modalities: As discussed, EMDR, IFS, and Somatic Experiencing are crucial for addressing the implicit memories and body-based responses to trauma. These therapies move beyond mere insight to facilitate deep, physiological shifts.
- Developing Self-Compassion: A lifetime of internalizing a narcissistic parent’s criticism often results in a harsh inner critic. Healing means learning to treat yourself with the same kindness and understanding you’d offer a dear friend. This isn’t about self-indulgence. It’s about building a resilient inner resource that can soothe distress and build genuine self-worth.
- Boundary Setting and Differentiation: Learning to establish clear, healthy boundaries is paramount. This involves understanding what you need, communicating those needs effectively, and protecting your emotional and energetic space. Differentiation, the ability to maintain your sense of self while in relationship with others, is particularly challenging when a narcissistic parent has blurred those lines for decades.
- Grieving What Was Lost: Healing involves grieving the childhood you deserved but didn’t receive, the unconditional love that was absent, and the authentic self that was suppressed. This grief is often complex, especially when the narcissistic parent is still alive, but it’s a necessary process for moving forward.
- Reclaiming Your Authentic Self: This is perhaps the most profound aspect of healing. It involves discovering and embracing your true desires, values, and passions, independent of what others expect or demand. It’s about building a life aligned with your deepest self, rather than a performance for external validation.
When seeking a therapist, look for those with specific training in complex trauma (CPTSD) and a demonstrated familiarity with narcissistic family dynamics. Don’t hesitate to ask direct questions during a consultation: “How do you work with adult children of narcissistic parents?” “What trauma modalities are you trained in?” “How do you handle it when a client describes a parent in ways that are very negative?” A skilled therapist will welcome these questions and provide clear, thoughtful answers.
To begin this work in a structured, self-paced format, my Fixing the Foundations™ course provides a guided approach to understanding and beginning the healing process. For those ready for individual work, therapy with Annie provides the specialized, narcissism-literate container that this work requires. For driven women working at the intersection of leadership and family trauma, executive coaching can provide tailored support. And don’t miss the ongoing conversation at the Strong & Stable newsletter, where we explore these themes weekly, together.
Q: What type of therapy is best for adult children of narcissistic parents?
A: The most effective therapies are trauma-informed and address implicit memory and body-based responses. Modalities like EMDR, IFS (Internal Family Systems), and Somatic Experiencing are often highly beneficial. These approaches go beyond intellectual understanding to help heal the deep-seated emotional and physiological wounds. It’s crucial to find a therapist who is specifically literate in narcissistic family dynamics and complex trauma.
Q: How do I find a therapist who specializes in narcissistic parenting?
A: When searching for a therapist, look for those who list specializations in complex trauma (CPTSD), narcissistic abuse recovery, or adult children of narcissistic parents. During initial consultations, ask direct questions about their experience and approach: “How do you work with adult children of narcissistic parents?” “What trauma modalities are you trained in?” “How do you handle it when a client describes a parent in very negative terms?” A good therapist will be transparent and knowledgeable in these areas.
Q: Do I have to forgive my narcissistic parent for therapy to work?
A: No, you don’t have to forgive your narcissistic parent for therapy to be effective. The goal of therapy is your healing and well-being. Not reconciliation or absolution for the parent. Forgiveness is a deeply personal process, and it may or may not be part of your path. A trauma-informed therapist will prioritize validating your experience and helping you process your pain, without pressuring you towards forgiveness.
Q: Can I recover from a narcissistic parent without going no-contact?
A: Yes, recovery is possible without going no-contact, though for some, limiting or ending contact is a necessary step for safety and healing. The decision to go no-contact, low-contact, or maintain contact is a highly individual one made in consultation with your therapist. The focus is on establishing healthy boundaries, differentiating your sense of self from your parent’s influence, and protecting your emotional well-being. Regardless of the level of contact.
Q: Why do I still seek my narcissistic parent’s approval even though I know better?
A: This is a very common and understandable experience. Growing up with a narcissistic parent often conditions you to seek their approval as a survival mechanism. Your developing self learned that validation and safety were contingent upon meeting their needs and expectations. Even as an adult, these deeply ingrained patterns. Stored in implicit memory. Can continue to drive approval-seeking behaviors, even when your rational mind knows it’s futile or harmful. Therapy, particularly trauma-informed modalities, can help re-pattern these responses.
Q: Is EMDR or IFS better for narcissistic parent trauma?
A: Both EMDR and IFS are highly effective for healing narcissistic parent trauma, and they often complement each other. EMDR is excellent for reprocessing specific traumatic memories and reducing their emotional charge. IFS is powerful for working with the internal parts of self that were impacted by the narcissistic family system, helping to heal wounded parts and integrate protective ones. The choice between them. Or using them in combination. Often depends on individual needs and therapist expertise.
Q: How long does therapy for adult children of narcissistic parents take?
A: The duration varies significantly depending on the individual, the severity and duration of the narcissistic abuse, and the presence of co-occurring conditions. Healing from complex trauma is a phase-based process, not a linear one, and it often takes time. It’s a path of deep self-discovery and re-parenting, which can span several months to several years. The most important aspect is consistency and commitment to the process, allowing for gradual, sustainable transformation.
Related Reading
- Orovou, E., Jotautis, V., Vousoura, E., et al. (2025). Impact of Parental Narcissistic Personality Disorder on Parent-Child Relationship Quality and Child Well-Being: A Systematic Review. Cureus, 17(12): e100229. DOI: 10.7759/cureus.100229.
- Damis, L. F. (2022). The Role of Implicit Memory in the Development and Recovery from Trauma-Related Disorders. NeuroSci, 3(1), 5. DOI: 10.3390/neurosci3010005.
- Herman, J. L. (1992). Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence. From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror. Basic Books.
- Siegel, D. J. (2012). Pocket Guide to Interpersonal Neurobiology: An Integrative Handbook of the Mind. W. W. Norton & Company.
- Schwartz, R. C. (2021). No Bad Parts: Healing Trauma & Restoring Wholeness with the Internal Family Systems Model. Sounds True.
- Levine, P. A. (2010). In an Unspoken Voice: How the Body Releases Trauma and Restores Goodness. North Atlantic Books.
- Walker, P. (2013). Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving: A Guide and Map for Recovering from Childhood Trauma. Azure Coyote.
- McBride, K. (2008). Will I Ever Be Good Enough?: Healing the Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers. Free Press.
References
Peer-Reviewed Research (Vancouver)
- Payne P, Levine PA, Crane-Godreau MA. Somatic experiencing: using interoception and proprioception as core elements of trauma therapy. Front Psychol. 2015;6:93. doi:10.3389/fpsyg.2015.00093. PMID: 25699005.
- Reisz S, Duschinsky R, Siegel DJ. fearful-avoidant attachment and defense: exploring John Bowlby's unpublished reflections. Attach Hum Dev. 2018;20(2):107-134. doi:10.1080/14616734.2017.1380055. PMID: 28952412.
- Brenner EG, Schwartz RC, Becker C. Development of the internal family systems model: Honoring contributions from family systems therapies. Fam Process. 2023;62(4):1290-1306. doi:10.1111/famp.12943. PMID: 37924221.
Books & Cultural Sources (Chicago Author-Date)
- Walker, Pete. Complex PTSD. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 2013.
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Annie Wright is a licensed psychotherapist (LMFT #95719) and trauma-informed executive coach with over 15,000 clinical hours. She works with driven women. Including Silicon Valley leaders, physicians, and entrepreneurs. In repairing the psychological foundations beneath their impressive lives. Annie is the founder and former CEO of Evergreen Counseling, a multimillion-dollar trauma-informed therapy center she built, scaled, and successfully exited. A regular contributor to Psychology Today, her expert commentary has appeared in USA Today, Forbes, Business Insider, Inc., NBC, and The Information. She is currently writing her first book with W.W. Norton.
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