Category: Phsychology

The Mother Mirror: How Susie Wiles Became Donald Trump’s Surrogate Matriarch

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by Daniel Wolfe, J.D., Ph.D.

(The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of any employer, organization, or institution with which the author is affiliated. )

“Trust in God and be true to yourself.” — Donald Trump (attributed to his mother)


In a career defined by glitz, volatility, and domination, Donald Trump has rarely ceded power or emotional intimacy to anyone—especially not to women. And yet, two women stand apart from the parade of advisers, media figures, and family members who have passed through his orbit: Mary Anne MacLeod Trump, his late mother; and Susie Wiles, his current White House Chief of Staff and perhaps the most enduring political influence in his life.

From a psychodynamic standpoint, their connection is more than incidental. Wiles’s quiet dominance, maternal distance, and unflappable loyalty appear to mirror key psychological traits that Trump associated with his mother—a woman he revered, idealized, and never fully reached. As Trump now enters what may be the final chapter of his public life, Wiles is not merely a staffer. She is, in many respects, a surrogate matriarch—a stabilizing figure who satisfies his need for emotional containment, maternal loyalty, and internal order.

The Queen from Tong: Mary Anne MacLeod Trump’s Silent Influence

Born in 1912 in the Village of Tong on Scotland’s windswept Isle of Lewis, Mary Anne MacLeod was the tenth of ten children in a Gaelic-speaking, deeply Presbyterian household. The family home had no indoor plumbing, and her childhood was shaped by poverty, discipline, and religious rigor. At 18, she boarded the SS Transylvania and sailed to New York City, alone, with $50 to her name and a stated intention to become a domestic servant.

What followed was a dramatic social ascent. Mary Anne met Fred Trump, a rising real estate developer, at a party. They married in 1936 and had five children. Though she never shed her Scottish accent, she fully embraced American prosperity and Protestant respectability. She became active in the Daughters of the American Revolution, volunteered in hospitals, and dressed with regal precision.

As reported by journalist Mary Pilon in The New Yorker, friends and family members remembered Mary Anne MacLeod Trump as “tight-lipped,” “polished,” “proper,” “unassuming,” “friendly,” and “pleasant”—a reserved woman of dignity and discipline, but not demonstratively affectionate. Trump himself noted her deep reverence for public ceremony, stating, “Her loyalty to Scotland was incredible. She respected and loved the Queen.” He also credited her with influencing his “sense of showmanship.” (Pilon, 2016).

In her memoir Too Much and Never Enough, Mary Trump—herself a clinical psychologist—describes how her grandmother’s illness and retreat from family caregiving duties created emotional voids. Mary and her siblings took on caretaking roles in her absence, leading to feelings of abandonment and shaping Donald Trump’s later emotional defenses. She further details how Fred Trump Sr.’s emotional detachment and controlling behavior created insecurity in the family and contributed to Donald Trump’s narcissistic tendencies.

And yet Donald idolized his mother. “Part of her disinterest was, I believe, interpreted by Donald as exclusivity,” Mary Trump writes. “She was mysterious. The less she said, the more he needed to earn her attention.” From a psychodynamic perspective, this creates a powerful early template: a mother who is emotionally withheld but idealized—instilling in the child a lifelong yearning to gain her approval, or to replicate her presence through proxies.

In object relations theory, such a mother becomes an internalized object—a kind of psychic icon. She represents containment, elegance, structure—but also loss and emotional distance. The boy grows into a man who seeks out women who resemble her not in warmth, but in silence, dignity, and control.

The Strategist in the Shadows: Who Is Susie Wiles?

Susie Wiles is no stranger to male power. The daughter of legendary NFL broadcaster Pat Summerall, she grew up surrounded by high-stakes masculinity. But unlike many women in Trump’s orbit—Hope Hicks, Kellyanne Conway, Kayleigh McEnany, Karoline Leavitt—Wiles is not a media figure. She is a tactician. Her professional life has been spent in the background, managing Republican campaigns with ruthless efficiency, from Jack Kemp to Rick Scott to Ron DeSantis—and finally to Donald Trump.

She first joined the Trump campaign in 2016 to oversee Florida, and her work was credited as critical to his win. She returned in 2020 and again in 2024. In the chaos of Trump’s third presidential campaign, Wiles outlasted and outmaneuvered more combative or flamboyant aides. By 2025, she was named Chief of Staff—the first woman to ever hold the role under Trump. And perhaps the only one who truly commands his respect.

What makes Susie Wiles unique is not charisma or ideological purity but emotional restraint. She doesn’t grovel. She doesn’t scold. She doesn’t leak to the press. According to Politico Magazine and West Wing Playbook, Wiles is a discreet, disciplined strategist. She rarely seeks publicity and is consistently portrayed as a “steady hand” who effectively manages Trump’s impulses and internal chaos.

From a psychological standpoint, this demeanor taps directly into the mother archetype that Trump internalized: a woman who offers structure without intrusion, loyalty without dependence. She doesn’t try to be his friend or surrogate daughter. She is, psychologically, his mother in political form: elegant, efficient, and emotionally self-contained.

Recent reporting in Vanity Fair highlights the candid nature of Wiles’s own reflections on President Trump and members of his Cabinet, revealing an unusually frank assessment of internal dynamics, including comments on Trump’s personality and other senior officials—remarks that drew swift criticism from within the administration as being misrepresented or taken out of context. Vanity Fair journalist Chris Whipple, who conducted months of on-the-record interviews with Wiles, subsequently defended the accuracy of his piece, noting that all conversations were recorded and verified.

The Vanity Fair profile also underscores Wiles’s complex role: though she offered unusually candid characterizations of Trump and others in his orbit—comments that were later disputed as being selectively framed—she remained publicly loyal, reiterating her defense of Trump’s leadership and the administration’s accomplishments. This juxtaposition further illustrates the delicate psychological balance Wiles maintains: revealing enough about internal pressures to demonstrate credibility, yet steadfast in her alignment with Trump’s public persona.

The Vanity Fair interviews portray Wiles as central to both decision-making and narrative control inside the West Wing, a portrayal that has attracted debate not only about the content of her remarks but also about the media framing of her role—revealing once again how Wiles both shapes and buffers Trump’s inner circle.

A Psychodynamic Reading: Maternal Transference in Power Relationships

In classical Freudian terms, Wiles may represent a maternal transference object—a figure onto whom Trump projects unresolved feelings and unmet needs from childhood. Where Mary Anne withheld affection, Wiles withholds emotion. Where Mary Anne offered structured approval, Wiles offers structured control. And unlike Trump’s past advisers, Wiles never threatens his fragile ego. She doesn’t seek glory. She simply stays—a feat few others have achieved.


Psychological profiles consistently depict Donald Trump as a grandiose, high-energy, low-agreeableness figure—a volatile combination described by Dr. Dan McAdams as “sky-high extraversion … rock-bottom agreeableness … and grandiose narcissism” (McAdams, 2016). Indirect diagnostic work (Immelman & Griebie, 2020) places him squarely in narcissistic, dominant, and impulsive personality patterns. Mental health experts in The Dangerous Case of Donald Trump warn of malignant narcissism—a severe form characterized by interpersonal cruelty and paranoia (Lee, 2019). Clinicians like Craig Malkin and theorists such as Kohut and Bosson also point to the deeper emotional void underlying Trump’s persona—one that maternal transference figures may uniquely address. Therapists such as Wendy Behary similarly argue for a behavioral-based understanding of his narcissistic structure.

Nancy McWilliams (2011) describes narcissistic personality organization as marked by internal fragility, frequent use of idealization and devaluation, and a reliance on external validation. She explains that analysts working with this type often become unconscious “containers” for projected emotions, experiencing emotional obliteration, boredom, or invisibility.

As interpreted from McWilliams, transference figures often exert their power not through what they do, but through how they resonate. They become stand-ins for an early internal object—particularly in individuals who, like Trump, display signs of narcissistic personality structure: grandiosity, need for adulation, fear of shame, and an unconscious desire for omnipotent control.

What narcissistic individuals crave, McWilliams notes, is not just admiration—but a “containing other”: someone who does not collapse in the face of their outbursts, and who does not betray them by seeking autonomy. Wiles plays that role impeccably. She withstands Trump’s rage, channels it, and survives it. She offers maternal containment, not romantic or filial rivalry. That is what keeps her in his orbit.

Other advisers have challenged Trump (John Kelly), manipulated him (Steve Bannon), or infantilized him (Rudy Giuliani). Wiles does none of that. Instead, she mirrors back the qualities Trump yearned to see in his mother: discretion, loyalty, restraint, and elegance.

The Politics of Maternal Containment

This is not just a psychological curiosity. It is a political reality. Wiles has arguably had more sustained influence over Trump than any adviser since the beginning of his political career. She shaped the tone of his 2024 campaign—more disciplined, less erratic. She consolidated staffing, minimized legal exposure, and even managed access to the President.

Unlike previous chiefs of staff, Wiles does not appear to negotiate with Trump’s narcissism. She regulates it. That regulation—the ability to soothe without submitting—represents a maternal function in psychodynamic theory. And in Wiles, Trump may have finally found the mother he idealized but never emotionally possessed.

It also explains why he hasn’t turned on her. Trump, infamous for discarding aides with theatrical vengeance, has remained steadfastly loyal to Wiles. Even when others within his inner circle reportedly questioned her influence, he resisted. Just as a child resists separating from a “good enough” mother (in Winnicottian terms), Trump clings to Wiles not just as a strategist, but as a psychic anchor. In effect, Wiles might stabilize Trump not by commanding him, but by quietly containing him, as a good-enough mother does for an emotionally vulnerable child.

A Closing Reflection: The Boy and the Queen

As Donald Trump enters the final act of his storied and polarizing career, it is Susie Wiles—not his children, not his ideological acolytes—who quietly holds the reins. She does so not by reflecting Trump’s aggression, but by embodying his mother’s mystery: a woman whose silence commands, whose order contains, whose loyalty never fully soothes the ache it addresses.

In Wiles, Trump may see a second chance to earn the approval he never quite captured from Mary Anne. And in his loyalty to her, one glimpses the enduring truth of psychodynamic theory: that the past is never past. It is alive, enacted, and dressed in new clothes—this time, in a red blazer, seated quietly in the West Wing, holding the world’s most unmanageable man in the palm of her maternal hand.

References:

Understanding Pascal’s Wager

“The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing.”

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Glen Scrivener argues that atheists misunderstand Pascal’s Wager in Episode number 595 of his Speak Life Podcast (Atheists Misunderstand Pascal’s Wager (and so do Christians) I think he is right, and it seems that Christians don’t really understand it, either. Me included … until now. Before we dive in, though, let’s review Pascal’s Wager.

Blaise Pascal starts with the premise that human beings can neither prove the existence of God, nor prove that God does not exist. This is a concession, perhaps, to the atheist, but the atheist stands in no better position in relation to proving that God does not exist.

If that is the reality, then whether to believe in God or not is crap shoot. If we can’t prove it one way or the other, are we any better off than a roll of the dice? Pascal says we are, and the truly rational person would choose belief in God based on what is known as Pascal’s Wager.

Believing in God potentially gains a person everything (eternal life, joy, meaning, etc.). If God exists, the believer hits the jackpot. Believing in God also has very little downside. Pascal supposes that a person might forego some pleasures that were not pursued or time and energy spent living out faith (more on that below), but a person is little worse off for believing in God if God does not exist.

On the other hand, a person who doesn’t believe in God loses everything if God does exist (eternal separation from God). Therefore, Pascal said, the rational thing is to believe in God, because the potential gain is infinite and the potential loss is minimal. Given that we cannot prove God one way or the other, the truly rational person would “wager” on God, says Pascal.

Christopher Hitchens calls Pascal’s Wager “religious hucksterism of the cheapest, vulgarist, nastiest kind,” and Alex O’Connor calls it “half-hearted ass-kissing just in case.” Richard Dawkins asks, “What is so special about belief?” And, “Why would God not look for something of more substance from us, like being good?”

The often deriding comments beg for some understanding, and Dawkins’s legitimate questions call for a response. Matt Dillahunty says, “Pascal’s wager is an apologetic argument that attempts to demonstrate that belief in God is warranted based on decision theory and probability.” But is it?

All of these comments and questions assume that Pascal’s Wager is an apologetic argument for God, and they find it woefully wanting in that respect. Even Christians assume it is an apologetic argument, also, but everyone who makes that assumption has missed the actual point of Pascal’s Wager.

Glen Scrivener’s summary of Pascal’s Wager taken from Graham Tomlin’s book, Pascal, The Man Who Made the Modern World, exposes the error people make in these assumptions. Pascal wasn’t attempting to assert a rational argument, defense, or proof of God. He was making a very different point altogether.

Pascal was a genius by any measure. He was a scientist, mathematician, geometer, physicist, philosopher, polemicist, and theologian. He invented probability theory; he proved the existence of the vacuum, laid the foundations of integral calculus, performed what is called the first proper scientific experiment, established the principle that made possible the hydraulic press, demonstrated that air has weight, and many other things.

Thus, Scrivener says, “If we think that Blaise Pascal was silly, that might not reflect on Blaise Pascal; it might be a sign that we have misunderstood him.” The podcast featuring Graham Tomlin linked above and embedded below does a great job explaining the misunderstanding. It is worth the 25 minutes to watch and listen, but I am going to summarize and add my own thoughts as I continue.

Continue reading “Understanding Pascal’s Wager” →

Our Post Enlightenment, Neo Religious World and the Proof of God

Not all truth is known through scientific inquiry and method.

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Reading of Voltaire in a salon in Paris

As often happens with me, the things I have been listening to and reading have converged in a meaningful way. Whether we attribute these “convergences” to God’s presence in our lives or dumb luck, pure happenstance, or “coincidence” is a matter of speculation and faith.

Whatever you want to call it, I take special notice of these things. I pay attention. I take them seriously, and they become signposts on my journey through life.

Perhaps, I am just being a good attorney. I am trained to find harmony and contrast in nuanced fact patterns and to apply legal principals to them. Finding harmonies and contrasts and applying spiritual principals to them operates in the same vein. That’s the way my mind works.

Yesterday, I listened to an interview of Jonathan Pageau by Justin Brierley. Pageau is an interesting character and a critical thinker. His recent conversation with Brierley inspires my writing today.

Raised in Montreal influenced by French Catholicism in a French Baptist Church community, Pageau has moved over to Eastern Orthodoxy by way of 4-year and 3-year stints in the Congo and Kenya. He has an undergraduate degree in postmodern art. He returned from Africa to obtain a degree in Orthodox Theology and Iconology from Sherbrooke University in Quebec. Along the way, Jonathan Pageau has become a cutting edge Christian thinker who is in demand as a speaker.

One line of discussion caught me ear in the interview with Justin Brierley that I want to explore. The subject touches on post-Enlightenment, neo-religious thinking and the proof of God.

Continue reading “Our Post Enlightenment, Neo Religious World and the Proof of God” →

“Suicidal Empathy” and Weakness: Trust and the Church

Confusion and red flags are reason to stop and consider who we are and where we are going

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A funny thing happened to me one evening recently. I received a text from a number that was not in my contacts. The texter introduced himself and said he was from “VBC”. He said he emailed me, but I didn’t respond, so he was sending me a video of the child I sponsor from Uganda with a link for me to click.

I didn’t know the person. I didn’t get an email, and I don’t sponsor a child from Uganda.

Since scamming people is a billion dollar industry, I was cautious,. I do sponsor a child from Africa, but she lives in Ethiopia. The initials, “VBC”, are the initials for the church I go to, so I didn’t just delete it. I looked up name of the texter, but I couldn’t find his name in the directory.

I wanted to respond positively if he was a brother in my church, but I didn’t know him. What if someone hacked into the church directory? What if they found just enough information to make it sound good and to get me to click on a malicious link?

I texted him back and asked what email he had for me. The email he sent back was one letter off. He also sent an email with a shortened version of my former wife’s name, but it isn’t the shortened version she uses. It was close, but wrong. He had just enough of the right information for me to think it was legitimate but just enough of the wrong information for me to pause.

Finally, I texted the campus pastor, and he confirmed that the man was from VBC (but a different campus). He also did go to Uganda where the church has an ongoing missionary presence.

Then, I remembered: there is a young man in the church with exactly my first and last name. I have only met him once because he is a distant relative, and he goes to a campus of the church that is furthest from the one I go to. With this information, I called the man who texted me, and we had a good a laugh.

My name isn’t common. We both sponsor children in Africa. We both were marred to women with the same first name (different nicknames). The similarities were uncanny, but the differences signaled the need for caution.

I was thinking about this after doing my routine reading the next morning. The reading plan focused on James’s letter “to the twelve tribes scattered among the nations” (James 1:1), and it posed this question:

Have you ever been confused about who sent a text, email, or note?

In light of my experience the previous night, I realized that God might be talking to me! The follow up questions ask whether not knowing who sent the message confuses the meaning and whether knowing who the sender is changes our understanding.

The answer is definitely, yes and yes! I was confused when I wasn’t sure who sent me the original text, and knowing it came from a trusted source changed everything.

The context in which this story and my thoughts arise this morning is the confusion in the church caused by Donald Trump and his sidekick, Elon Musk. I have seen red flags since 2015 and reason for caution. The topic has been much on my mind, because some Christians champion these men and defend everything they do, and other Christians don’t.

It seems to boil down to who you trust and whether we should ignore look the other way at the things that seem a little “off”.

What are we to think? Can we trust them? Do we know who they are? Do we ignore the red flags? Perhaps, more importantly: Do we know who we are?

I am afraid I can’t get very deep into this subject without writing a tome, and I have already written much, so I want to stick with the context out of which this experience and these thoughts flow. Specifically the controversy over Elon Musk’s comment to Joe Rogan: “The fundamental weakness of western civilization is empathy.”

Continue reading ““Suicidal Empathy” and Weakness: Trust and the Church” →

Do Our Past Actions Impact Our Present Choices?

‭”[T]he Pharisees and the experts in religious law rejected God’s purpose for themselves, because they had not been baptized by John.”

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Byzantine mosaic of John the Baptist at Hagia Sofia, Istanbul, Turkey

My thoughts today might seem a little obscure, but let me set the stage first.  Imagine the scene when two followers of John the Baptist were sent to ask Jesus a question. News of what Jesus was doing had traveled far and wide. People even reported that Jesus brought a dead man to life!

This is the backstory. Jesus happened upon a funeral procession. (Luke 7:11-17) The dead man being carried to his final destination was the only child his mother had, and she was a widow. Jesus was filled with compassion, ands he did the unbelievable. Jesus brought that dead man back from death!

This man and his mother were locals. They lived in a nearby town. They were talking, and it wasn’t just them. People saw it, and they were talking about it also. A crowd had witnessed the whole spectacle.

News about Jesus spread throughout Judea and the surrounding country, so that people were coming to Jesus from all around. John the Baptist heard about these things also, and he sent two of his followers to ask, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?”

(Luke 7:20) (As an aside, Luke does not tell us why John did not come himself, but we know from Mathew that John was in prison. (Matthew 14:1-12)

The “one” John the Baptist wondered about is the Messiah who had long been expected. John and his ancestors kin had been reading about the Messiah in the prophets for centuries. The time seemed right. Many had come recently, claiming to be him, but they were killed, and their following faded. Still, expectation was in the air.

John was imprisoned because he was open and blunt with criticism of Herod the Tetrarch, the local governor, who married his brother’s wife. Herod imprisoned John to silence him.

John was equally straightforward and to the point with the question he sent his followers to ask, “Are you the one?”

John the Baptist’s followers arrived on the scene as Jesus was curing people with diseases, sicknesses and evil spirits, healing people and even giving sight to the blind. When they asked him whether he is the one, or whether there is someone yet to come, Jesus said

“Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.”

Luke 7:22-23

These words were familiar to John. They come from the book of Isaiah, one of those the prophets that foretold the Messiah to come (see Isaiah 35:5 and 61:1). The Messiah was predicted to be the cornerstone of a new order, but the prophets also warned that he would be rejected, and he would be a stumbling block for many. (See here)

The Pharisees and religious leaders also would have known exactly what Jesus alluded to in his response to John’s followers, though they didn’t even ask the question, and they probably were not privy to the answer. For them, Jesus was a stumbling block. The way Luke describes their response is what prompts me to write today.

Continue reading “Do Our Past Actions Impact Our Present Choices?” →