When Adult Children Don’t Go "No Contact"

The overlooked psychology of remaining in difficult relationships and choosing healthy enough over estrangement.

Hi, I’m Dr. Rana

I’m a clinical psychologist and founder of Sorted Mind. I write about the lifelong journey of parenthood and family relationships, from the peripartum period to adulthood. I provide workshops, training, and consultation for therapists. I am also fascinated by the patterns of overcorrection in our lives, and how individualistic wellness trends and AI impact our relationships and wellbeing.

I hope these articles will help you sort through the messy parts of life.

No one comes to therapy alone.

I don’t mean couples or family therapy, where multiple bodies show up intentionally. Even in individual therapy, someone else is always present: a parent, partner, child, or another part of the self. When people work on their suffering, they’re usually doing that work with someone else in mind.

As a psychologist, I have sat with clients who cut ties with loved ones — most often adult children who go “no contact” with a parent after years of conflict. I have also worked with people who wonder whether estrangement would finally stop the repeated disappointments, and with others who wish they could go no contact but struggle to take action.

This article is about this last group — the adults who have contemplated estrangement, maybe wish for it, but do not act on it.

Staying in relationships that bring little joy, and a lot of hurt, is common. Parenthood is inherently painful, while also being absolutely beautiful and amazing. When dynamics aren’t abusive, deciding to remain connected to someone who also hurts you is rarely a one-time verdict. It is a decision revisited again and again, with grief that resurfaces in waves.

The visibility of estrangement

Deciding to go no contact with a parent is emotionally complex. Whether estrangement rates have risen is still debated, but public conversation about it unquestionably has. Reasons adult children report for cutting ties often include:

• Past or ongoing abuse (emotional abuse is the most common)

• Criticism, judgment, or nonacceptance of identity (for example, sexual orientation)

• The influence of third parties or parental alienation

• A bid for agency and independence

Going no contact is a legitimate option and it is sometimes essential for safety. But going “no contact” is also promoted by individualistic wellness trends and influencers as a quick fix. The message behind philosophies such as “Let Them” is that curating your social circle to those who unconditionally support you is the only sustainable way to wellness. When the presence of another person is uncomfortable, “protecting your peace” and keeping them at a distance is an appealing option.

The uncomfortable option, and the one that may not feel stigmatizing today, is to stay.

Choosing to stay

What Happened to Us, is a practical workbook for adult children, parents, and therapists navigating difficult family relationships — with over exercises and prompts to help make sense of what happened. You can find it here

Many adult children choose to remain in fraught relationships for reasons that are understandable and meaningful:

• Social and cultural pressure. Many cultures value family unity and deference to parents; stepping away from those norms can trigger guilt as it may be against their values. There are also broad, often unspoken, expectations that families should reconcile after conflict, which creates pressure to “work things out” rather than sever ties.

• Maintaining other family connections. Going no contact often isolates a person from siblings, cousins, or wider kin; family gatherings and community events can become awkward or inaccessible.

• Concern for the next generation. Adult children sometimes stay because they want grandchildren to know their grandparents, or because they value intergenerational continuity.

• Financial dependency. Economic realities — housing, loans, caregiving, or other forms of support — can make cutting ties costly or impractical.

• Identity and loyalty. Identity is often bound up in family roles; fear of being seen as disloyal or ungrateful can be a powerful deterrent.

Choosing the uncomfortable route of remaining in a tense relationship requires a different approach to finding peace and stability in a turbulent relationship. When I work with clients who want to stay in relationships with parents despite the friction, the work typically involves:

• Mourning the relationship with their parents that wasn’t and won’t be.

• Accepting who the parent is and what they can realistically offer (their capacity, not just their willingness).

• Considering forgiveness — but that’s a separate conversation.

• Making a concrete plan to move the relationship toward what I call “healthy enough.”

A healthy enough relationship

As a psychologist, my role is not to advocate for any particular option for clients, whether to stay or end a relationship. My role is to help people make intentional adjustments to levels of contact and closeness, and to test what alignment looks like in practice.

A “healthy enough” relationship accepts imperfection and adapts. It might mean:

• Conflict that feels uncomfortable but not catastrophic.

• Boundaries that protect connection rather than punish.

• Repair as an expected part of relational life.

• Curiosity replacing automatic defensiveness.

• Closeness that’s chosen, not compelled.

Healthy enough requires holding two truths at once:

• This relationship may never be what I hoped for.

• It might still become more workable and fulfilling with time and effort.

Healthy enough is not:

• Tolerating abuse.

• Ignoring your values.

• Shrinking yourself or abandoning your needs.

• Settling for “second best.”

Contact versus closeness

The decision to stay in a relationship that is difficult is generally accompanied by feeling stuck, and dread. A helpful way forward is to separate practical choices about contact and closeness. People often equate frequency of interaction with depth of connection — teasing those two apart makes it clearer what can actually be changed.

Contact is the structure: the observable patterns of interaction. This includes the how (in person, text, calls, social media), frequency, and length. Contact is usually the easiest thing to modify.

Closeness is the emotional intimacy and felt safety between two people. It involves the type of information that is disclosed, emotions that are shared, and general openness.

Closeness doesn’t reliably increase with frequency of contact — or vice versa. Underpinning contact and closeness is differentiation: the capacity to stay connected to another person while holding your own perspective, feelings, and boundaries. That’s hard in parent–adult child relationships because the power dynamic remains even as people age.

Choosing with intention

When ready to take action, separating contact from closeness provides clarity and reveals options. A situation might call for less contact but more vulnerability; more contact with clearer boundaries; or gradual change that reflects what the relationship can realistically sustain.

Take the example of an adult child who is undecided about a family weekend trip. At first, the options seem simple: go, or don’t go. But breaking the decision into contact and closeness opens up a much wider range of choices.

• decide to go for the whole weekend, fully engage in family discussions, and enter the inevitable arguments. (High contact, high closeness)

• go for the whole weekend but remain quiet, avoid contributing to discussions, and deflect personal questions. They might even bring “work” to do to create distance. (High contact, low closeness)

• join for an afternoon swim and dinner before returning home. (Lower contact, high closeness)

• go for dinner without engaging much in conversation, then return home afterward — or choose not to go at all. (Low contact, low closeness)

In this hypothetical example, let’s pretend the adult child chooses to join for the afternoon and dinner (contact), bring dessert, and avoid discussing politics or their finances (closeness). They plan to leave that evening rather than stay the weekend.

The parents may not be thrilled. They might even call their child “selfish.”

But the client still has choices.

• They might decide not to go at all, recognizing that right now the emotional cost of showing up outweighs the benefits.

• They might go as planned, understanding that their parents’ reaction may come from hurt, while still holding to their strategy for staying grounded and connected to other family members.

• Or they might change their mind and stay the weekend, not as a concession, but as a deliberate choice — because family time, seeing a sick aunt, or being with their nephews matters more than standing on principle. Perhaps, after reflection, they remember they missed the last two gatherings and how much they genuinely enjoy being with their siblings.

Notice that none of these options involve “making Mom happy” or “keeping the peace.”

There is no right or wrong answer here. What matters is intentionality and clarity — the ability to recognize what each choice aligns with internally.

This kind of decision-making comes from curiosity and compassion, not reactivity.

Boundaries are not walls

Boundaries are not rigid walls but living practices anchored in value-driven, intentional action. They are like rumble strips on the highway that alert you to take action. You can keep going, or swerve back into your lane. Choosing to change a plan after reflection isn’t “shrinking”; it is acknowledging that competing values sometimes coexist, and that at different moments, one may take priority over another.

Importantly, setting a boundary does not guarantee freedom from discomfort. Clients can act from clarity and still feel hurt when someone pushes back and doesn’t understand them. That pain is a reflection of love and care toward someone, and often a wish that the relationship was different, more intimate.

But when a decision comes from self-awareness and compassion rather than resentment and hurt, we often recover from those moments more quickly, gradually finding that elusive middle ground between self-protection and connection.

The reality that there is choice

There are choices in how we show up in the relationships we choose to keep.

And in a culture that often rushes toward “cut them off,” there is a different kind of courage in staying with discernment and intention. In remaining connected to a relationship that is imperfect, while being honest about what it can and cannot offer.

That is the choice of working toward a healthy enough relationship.

Have you ever found yourself choosing between distance and connection in a family relationship? I’d be interested to hear what that has looked like for you.

Are you a mental health professional?

Send me a message to talk about professional consultation, speaking engagements and trainings for professionals. You can find out more about my clinical and consultation, find helpful resources, and courses by visiting Sorted‑Mind.com.