Buildinghealthy relationshipssometimes means cutting people off when their presence becomes detrimental to your well-being. And as tough as it can be, this also includes parents.In fact, a recentstudy, drawing on thousands of interviews with adult children, found that 26 percent reported estrangement from fathers and another 6 percent from mothers.Trying to understand what leads to this difficult decision, Reddit userYoungGod928asked platform users who have cut ties with their own folks to share some of the early warning signs that pointed to their deteriorating relationships.This post may includeaffiliate links.
Buildinghealthy relationshipssometimes means cutting people off when their presence becomes detrimental to your well-being. And as tough as it can be, this also includes parents.
In fact, a recentstudy, drawing on thousands of interviews with adult children, found that 26 percent reported estrangement from fathers and another 6 percent from mothers.
Trying to understand what leads to this difficult decision, Reddit userYoungGod928asked platform users who have cut ties with their own folks to share some of the early warning signs that pointed to their deteriorating relationships.
This post may includeaffiliate links.
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I had a notebook counting down the days until I was 18. I started it at like 13. Can’t pinpoint the exact moment but I knew from a very young age I wanted to go far away and never look back. I moved out at 16 and haven’t looked back in 17 years. Wow didn’t realize until typing this that I’ve lived longer outside of that toxicity than in it. What a relief.
When he told me his new wife didn’t like me and he did not want to get divorced again so we wouldn’t be seeing each other much anymore. I was 14. And his only child.We spoke maybe a dozen times for the next 30 years. He divorced again. Outlived his next wife. He died alone. I took care of his affairs, only child and all that. I felt nothing. Still don’t, 4 years later.I have 3 sons. They all talk to me, even the grown ones. We get together once a month for dinner and games. Always a great time.
In order for a relationship to deteriorate, it would have to have been good to begin with. My mother was setting up situations where my death would look accidental, all my life. As a child she taught me the wrong way to cross the street, left me outdoors in electrical storms. When I developed life threatening food allergies she sneaked allergen exposures.One of my earliest memories is of falling through thin ice after she ordered me to play on a frozen pond and promised it was safe. An older child pulled me out and saved my life. Years later, when I had learned to read and saw a description of what it’s like to freeze to death, at first I was angry with the book. No, that can’t be! Then slowly came the realization of how close a call that had been, and how my mother hadn’t lifted a finger until she realized there were witnesses.According to other relatives whose reports are trustworthy, that habit of risking my life goes back to infancy.I’m probably alive to relate this because she was too cowardly to try things that were likely to get her prosecuted. She had an odd habit of looking over her shoulders to see who was watching during her worst stunts. A kindergarten teacher reported her to CPS and a social worker nearly placed me with other relatives.Fled from her and moved in with Dad as soon as I turned 11.
Realizing the distance between us wasn’t just physical but emotional too. They’d call every once in a while, and I dreaded it. Phone rings, heart sinks. It was never about catching up, always about some complaint or another way I had let them down. One day, it hit me - every call left me feeling drained and guilty for not being the ‘perfect’ child they wanted. I started screening calls, texts went unanswered, visits became annual formalities. The peace in choosing my mental well-being over trying to meet their impossible expectations was the turning point. You can’t choose your family, but you can choose not to let their chaos become your norm.
He wouldn’t stop threatening to kll us.Went total NC 30+ years ago and the f***r finally died broke and alone a few years ago. Good riddance to a s**t father.
My Dad used to beat me and my Mom up. He almost k*lled me when I came down with appendicitis when at his house for visitation. He thought I was faking vomiting and being in severe pain, so he punched me in the stomach… I was 11.I snuck a call to my Mom’s house when he fell asleep. My sister answered and got some people to come get me. My appendix was removed at the hospital the next morning.Later my Dad brought me a model of a Ferrari that I liked. I asked him if he knew that what he did was wrong. He said, “It’s my god given right to punish my wife and kids whenever and however I see fit.”I said, “It’s time for you to go.”.
Every time I was on their way to my house I would feel sick to my stomach. I didn’t think anything of it until after we were estranged and I was suddenly much less nauseous all the time.
When he chose his other woman and her kids and left me alone… in a foreign country.. without anything.i was 15.. :)).
When they don’t see you as an adult. They still see you as the controllable child. You’re an adult doing adult things in every other sphere of your life. The lack of respect and caring for you as an adult wears on you. If they have a personality disorder you had to tiptoe around, it accelerates this process.Three major turning points1. Constant belittling of my kids. None of us were good enough. Critical comparisons to others. My kids accomplishments were mocked. But if another of their grandkids did the same thing…the heavens opened and light shown down on them with praises from heaven.For example 2 of my kids had national merit scholarships to a top 10 school for their degree. Got them invited to the Governor’s mansion for a luncheon with the other 20 in the state.My niece gets National honor society and they send presents to her. They ignored my kids. All were Duke TIP scholars, and 10 yrs later a nephew earns that.He’s praised. There’s something about them doing it to you, but once they do it to your kids, you cant let them. We had already limited contact.Now both of those adult kids are doing well. They have chosen not to have relationships with that set of grandparents.2. Playing my siblings against one another. Either praising one to me, or devaluing one to me. I shut it down but they continued with the others. I’ve become the evil one in their story3. How they speak about me when I’m not there. I’ve heard from their friends some pretty awful things they’ve said. It started when I was very little.As a teen though they told people I was on ds, sleeping around etc. I suspect they did it for sympathy, “I have it so hard with Fritos”. I get married and move away. Run into a family friend 4 yrs later and hear how it’s so great “you turned your life around”. What? That’s when I heard what I supposedly was doing. I wasn’t using ds. I wasn’t sleeping around back then.The last time I spoke with that parent and they were accusing me of some morally reprehensible behaviors, I ended up telling them that if that’s what they believed of me, they should want nothing to do with me.I’ve been LC for 20 yrs. And now NC for 5. It’s a very painful decision to choose this. It’s seen as one day I just turned off the switch to them. Where in reality it was 20 plus years of begging them to be more mature, to be an adult in our relationship. If they had made changes we’d not be estranged.The decision was not made lightly. I no longer have migraines and my health has improved significantly.
When Mum pushed me off the front porch when I was 4. It was a 10ft drop.
I accidentally knocked over a glass of milk at the dinner table. Like a kid might do. It certainly wasn’t a habit. Dad got up and silently left the room. I was relieved because I thought for sure I was in for it and had gotten off light.He was in my bedroom stuffing all my possessions into trash bags that he put on the curb. Had to sleep on a naked mattress until Christmas when my aunts bought me blankets and sheets. That’s just one example but it was an early one I never forgot.
I don’t have a tragic story. My dad is in my life. I see him regularly. He just doesn’t have any interest in doing anything he doesn’t want to do. He never calls. He never texts. He has never actively wanted to spend time with me. He never wants to share my interests. In fact he generally has actively questioned them. He would do the basics like drive me to sports or pick me up from the subway but drives home would be silent. Maybe he cares. He’s never outwardly shown that he has. I can’t remember if he’s ever told me that he’s loved me or was proud of me.I make it a point to tell my son every day.
I invited a dear friend to a family vacation and my stepdad blew up/escalated to the point she was shaking with anxiety and fear because she hadn’t seen a man behave that way.As we were leaving there were neighbors standing on their porch, nodding at us, saying “esta bien?” And I knew something had to change.It wasn’t going to be my parents so it had to be me. I had to stop showing up to take it. I had to stop putting myself and certainly anyone I love in their destructive path.
She’s always been a piece of s**t to me, it just took me having a daughter of my own to realize how absolutely s****y she was, and that I was not the problem in our relationship.
Physically and mentally abused me. Ridicules me but praises me when their comrades and friends visit, taking credit for my achievement.Ripped my shirt and pjs off around midnight for forgetting to do something and made me sleep like a dog on the balcony butt naked, this happened around when I was 12 years oldPushed me with so much force that my head hit the corner of the table and left me a bump and scar on my forehead when I was around 5 yrs old and only felt pity on me when she saw my inflamed forehead yet still commanded me to go buy ice for me to put it on it.Around my puberty, 11 - 13 (cs my father died when i was 13 lol) My mother felt jealous of me and my father bcs he’s defending me every time she’s being ballistic. Then turned him into a monster too that whips me with belt.. maybe you’re wondering why? Yeah, bcs she thinks it’s hot when he’s being the one who gets angry and ballistic bcs she gives her head and fd after they bruised me. They used to kick me out of the house for them to get fd while me crying and having no idea what I did so wrong for them to punish me like that, and that’s how my little sister was made :).Literally, can’t even sit down on my butt and sleep on my back because of the huge bruises on my butt down to the back of my legs.Speaking of bruises, I used to wear long sleeves/jackets at school because of my green and violet bruises on my arm. And speaking of school, Since the school was only a cross the street away from our house, my mother used to slap my face, pull and twist my ears before I got to school. And my classmates were always used to watching me walk inside the class with red cheeks with a slap mark while tearing up.Up to this day, still happening to me actually, kinda used to it. Thought there’ll be hope for her and for me but I got nothing. Currently getting a degree in Psychology bcs I thought I wanted to help people and understand people more it was just her.. the more I study, the more I understand her yet the more I get sick to my stomach why is she that way but realized that I just wanted to help her and understand her but turns out, I’m the one who needed it. I needed help. I’m crying for help. Now, looking for a job at bpo secretly and hours away from our house bcs I’m giving up trying to find hope for her.I decided to prioritize myself now. After all these years. Now was the only time that I felt pity for myself, that it isn’t selfish not to be selfless.
My dad is a narcissist and gas lit me my entire childhood and early adulthood. I went to college and as I became educated I realized what he was doing to me all those years. I cut him off, reunited, cut him off, etc. Now we haven’t spoken in 6 years because I called him out on his manipulation and bruised his ego. Of course his narcissistic a*s thinks he’s the victim here, that I’m a cold hearted person. Life is so much better without him. I don’t feel like I’m walking on egg shells any more trying to dance around his ego and perceived injustices.
I always knew my mom was a bit of a pathological liar. She liked having her stories especially when it meant entertaining people. Then I found out she was lying to me about what she was doing with my son when she was watching him. Going to the park, meant watched cartoons all day. Ate some pasta and apple sauce, meant had ice cream and cookies. She was even giving him caffienated soda at the age of 2yo. I found out from my aunt who lives with her what was actually going on. When I confronted her, she was just like “this is what grandmas do”. For the record, we didn’t ask her to watch him. We had other sources of childcare. She would ask to spend time with her grandson, but then get easily frustrated when he would fuss. I would tell her to call me if it got too much and I would pick him up, but she wouldn’t. Even though she wasn’t doing any serious harm, I can’t let anyone have alone time with my kid if they’re dishonest with me. .
I felt like they were constantly criticizing my life choices instead of supporting me.
My parents making everything I vent to them about, about themselves..
When they told me I wasn’t ‘Christian enough’ of an example for my younger siblings and would no longer be welcome in their house.Why wasn’t I ‘Christian enough’? I told a youth pastor my older bro was SA-ing me.Needless to say, I have issues with organized religion (the pastors (yes, multiple) did nothing) and don’t have any relationship with the parentals.That doesn’t stop them from trying to ‘get the whole family together’ because it would be ‘so nice’ to have a family picture of everyone smiling together….
My husband hasn’t seen his parents in 23 years. Mom left when he was a teen, stayed in town but didn’t want to be a Mom anymore. She regrets it now at nearly 70 but it’s too late. Dad raised him but didn’t want to. When he moved away from home at 22, they just stopped speaking. Parents over all just didn’t have interest in kids, but for some reason, they had 4.
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In my 40’s. My dad died 3 years ago. Before his death he was the only reason I was in the same room with my mother. 10 years ago she drove over to my house one night and she tried to call me to repentance for leaving culty Mormonism. And when I got divorced from my ex wife, her first words were “how could you do this to me”. I didn’t speak to her at all for almost two years. After my dad died I tried being the best son again. I called her often, etc. But her not allowing me to give the eulogy as the eldest child in the family and having my younger Mormon brother do it hurt a ton. My dad was my best friend.
When family dinners turned into epic debates on who’s the bigger drama queen.
When my mother would leave me home alone at 4 years old, the last straw was overhearing her say how much she wished I had died instead of my sister, & then she took my kids from me, and making it impossible to get them back, but I’m still fighting.
When my mother tried to get me to prioritize her over my new wife of
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My mom and dad are extremely religious. I don’t agree with their commitment to religion because it came before me and my siblings. Fast forward to adulthood, I’m the youngest of 9 kids, they haven’t really changed, lol! There’s no reason to stick around when your parents don’t ACTUALLY want to be in a relationship with you. Actions speak louder than words. You can love someone and not wanna be around them.Generational curses have a lot to do with the estrangement as well. My mom had an abusive/alcoholic upbringing and she never dealt with her issues so she brought all of it into parenting and basically neglected all of my siblings and I.I’m now a parent of 2 beautiful kids and I’ve had to go to therapy (I’m 40 but have attending since 23 years old) to help me unlearn codependency and acceptance of unhealthy relationships.My parents won’t get the help they need and, not that I think I’m better than them, but I can’t be around people who aren’t willing to admit they did something wrong to their children.There’s so much more but this is the shorted way to explain.
When I was growing up I was the youngest of 4 children, my family never really seemed to make any effort for me. But I was always gaslit into thinking it was because my requests and needs were frivolous. I was pretty independent so I was left to my own devices. My older siblings constantly needed support and help.The moment I moved out for college I tried to call and keep in touch and it felt like I was doing all the work. I only lived 2 hours away but they came to visit twice in 4 years, but expected us to show up to every holiday and kids birthday party for my nieces/nephews.6 years later I realized all of the effort was coming from me. So I stopped trying to extend the olive branch.My family never once reached out, they didn’t want to go to my graduation, they didn’t want to come to my wedding. They didn’t care even a little bit. I wasn’t crazy, I was the black sheep and always had been.A few years of therapy and self reflection made me realize that I waa neglected significantly as a child and I developed hyperindependence because my needs weren’t ever met.I was regularly food insecure, I was educationally neglected, I was isolated socially, I was told I had no life prospects and thought too much of myself. My childhood was abusive and my family never really loved me. They just wanted to own me.We don’t talk anymore, I do talk to my nieces and nephews because I want them to have social support and not get trapped in the small town they live in. I started a secret college fund for my nieces and nephews because I want them to have an escape should they desire it. I had to fight so hard to succeed in life despite everyone telling me I was worthless.
My parents said “you’re gay, aren’t you?!” in an accusatory fashion before I knew what that word meant. I guess I enjoyed slumber parties when I was 10yo and sports too much.
Reflecting on every forced apology after conflicts where I wasn’t wrong but had to bear the blame, I realize the pattern of one-sided accountability was a red flag. The absence of mutual respect and apologies made me feel perpetually undervalued and dismissed - a dynamic that only grew more apparent over time. It taught me to value genuine communication and emotional honesty in relationships, something I didn’t experience growing up. It takes courage to break the cycle, but recognizing these early signs can save years of heartache. Now, I’m focused on building a foundation of trust and respect with my own family, something I learned the hard way was missing in my upbringing.
I genuinely didn’t realise how f***d things were until my dear father almost klled me lmao.Looking back it’s the objectification that should have concerned people. He used to compare my sisters and I to clay - saying he was moulding us into the perfect wives for our future husbands etc. We were never allowed to explore our own interests and were only allowed to read / watch / listen to a very small list of approved things. He pulled us out of certain classes in school if he didn’t agree with them and pulled me out altogether when I was 16 - I still haven’t finished high school but I’m doing an access course to get into uni so all’s not too lost.Granted my childhood took place in a largely oppressive religious group that is now being investigated and called a cult but hey ho. I had no idea things were as bad as they were until “the incident” 🫠.
Being pressured or forced to do things I didn’t agree to.
When they left me at the truckstop.
I think I was about 13 or so where all my daydreaming (which was how I spent most of my day and several hour every night before falling asleep) was getting as far away as possible. At 23, I finally had a college degree and some work experience and a couple thousand dollars. I sold my car on the way to the airport and I moved about 4000 miles away.
I never had a good relationship with my biofather right from the start. One of my earliest memories was of him beating me at age four, and things continued to go downhill from there.
When my mother packed me at 7 years old and my brother at 4 into the car in the middle of the night. She proceeded to drunk drive us across state borders to visit a Nevada casino. She was pulled over, and when the police officer asked her why she was swerving, she responded, “I was dancing!“My parents never divorced, and she got to stay a parent.My life has been hell, and I sometimes wonder if it’s all just a big joke.
- she constantly needed money but seemed to have every excuse not to work- constant drinking when she was home- everything was everyone else’s fault she could never take blame- the feeling of dread when you hear your parent angry walk to your room and your skin tightens wondering how you could have upset them.
There never was a relesionship, they told me I was a worthless piece of s**t from the beginning, when others hurt me they told me i deserved to suffer, I never saw them in the parental way you’re meant to.
Frequent arguments and a growing sense of emotional distance were early warning signs.
When she tried to k*ll me at 6.But I am so dramatic I won’t let it go.
Well as soon as I turned 18 I moved out and as far away as I could on what little savings I had and stopped picking up calls. Put them on a strict info diet and never came home to visit.
Probably when my dad died and I had to move in with my mother at 16 and she had just gotten engaged to a guy who hated my guts. Our relationship at that point didn’t seem very healthy.
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