My mother was an NT and was as phoney as anyone I ever knew. She was terribly unhappy with her own life and always put on a happy face and never let anyone know how desperately unhappy she, herself was. She would have rather died that let people know she was terribly poor, unhappy, never married "good enough" or had perfect children. She loved clothes and never had very many. She flirted with every man she found better than my father and did a lot to call attention to herself if she thought she would be viewed in a good light. The only place she was herself was at home, doors closed and with only my father, brother and me. We were always treated to how unhappy she was and how very certain she was that her life should have been much better. Her phoniness worked very well and the entire town adored her. Only my brother, father and I ever felt the terrible nastiness she unleashed on us in order to tolerate her constant unhappiness. Nothing we did well was ever enough for her.