Tag Archives: cut off by adult children

Rejected parents of adult children: Lean into your power (like a bear!)

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rejected parents of adult childrenRejected parents of adult children: Lean into your power (like a bear!)


by Sheri McGregor, M.A.

When the massive 2021 fires devastated the forests to the east of us, bears moved into my lazy, semi-rural neighborhood. I was both terrified and tempted by the idea of seeing one up close. You can read about how that prospect led me to think about what we rejected parents of adult children can learn from bears in this previous article. The bears eventually left our neighborhood, but I’ve been hearing that they may be back again. That’s because, as springtime finally arrives, much more slowly than is typical for this area, the bears are confused.

Rejected parents of adult children: an icy landscape

The big beasts are emerging from their hibernation dens to find the ground blanketed in snow rather than the fresh spring grass they’re accustomed to chomping down. It’s predicted that the bears are likely to roam around, looking for grass in areas they wouldn’t typically forage. So, humans should be on alert.

Reports say the newly awakened bears have at first seemed a little dazed and confused. That’s a lot like many rejected parents of adult children, who woke up one day to find the landscape of their entire lives changed. It’s like we went to bed one night and woke up the next morning in a strange, cold land where values have changed, and we no longer recognize the family (or, these days, maybe even the entire culture) we have always held so dear.

Again, we can learn from the mighty bear. Instead of cowering in fear at the unexpectedly icy greeting, the bears shake off their confusion. Then they lean into their power and head on out to find what they need.

Rejected parents of adult children: Time to wake up

Especially today, when adult children cutting off parents has become so common, there’s no need to cower in shame or fear. Whether you have heard about it or not, it’s almost certain there is someone in your social sphere who is a rejected parent. Adult children may dismiss us with icy silence, but parents whose adult children have no time or affection for them can mourn the loss, get needed support, and move toward their future. You can always cherish the memories of your once cozy den, and taking charge of your own life doesn’t mean you have to close the door to the idea of reconciling. But I hope you will open your heart and mind to the possibility of greener pastures ahead … for you.

I hear daily from parents who thank me for my books, my newsletter, and this site. They tell me they are finally awaking to the reality of lost time. They’re tired of chasing, pining, and hoping for estranged adult children to bring the sunshine into their lives. These parents have learned the hard way that, while they hid away in a frozen life, time ticked on by—and now there’s not a moment to waste.

The “silver tsunami” of senior citizens is here. Time for the most active among us to wake the world up to us and our wisdom rather than bend, bow, and hide away in shame. If you’re still worried about germs or can’t get out due to physical issues, find ways to get involved and socialize from a distance. You’ll feel better when not so focused on your loss. Even via Internet or over the telephone, you can make a big difference, and have fun.

For example, one mother, in her 80s who can no longer drive participates in Zoom meetings to raise money for a political cause that she holds dear. Another makes artsy quilts that, when sold, provide much needed funds to a battered women’s shelter. A 76-year-old rejected mother and grandmother volunteers with her local Rotary club, helping to effect positive change. A father in his early 80s organized a pickle ball league for active seniors. (I hear from one mom who plays that, during the first hour of pickle ball, they get sweaty and, during the second, they laugh—both excellent forms of exercise!) Another rejected father rescues injured or needy fawns each season and has become known as the “fawn guy.” Last year, when red fox squirrels fell from their nest and their mother never returned, we called the “squirrel lady,” who is retired and says she works more hours each spring than she previously did all year—and she loves saving those furry little lives. These people have found meaning, which (as I talked about in Beyond Done) infuses everything with more energy.

In my county, there’s a telephone calling service that offers senior citizen peer support by way of trained volunteers. They’re always advertising for retirees and others who want to help. Gardening centers and clubs offer in-person and online meetings, classes, and discussion forums. There are dance clubs, Zumba hours, meditation gatherings, and tai chi. What service might need your help or support? What interests do you hold that may have online or in-person classes or groups?

Here are some ideas to get you started:

And here are some ideas for virtual fun that might get you thinking. One mom volunteered on her city’s playbill board. And near where I live, a native plant demonstration garden depends on their volunteer docents and support staff:

Meaningful Moments

Make the most of every opportunity to connect with kindness and make a friend—even if it’s just a few mutually pleasant moments shared on a grocer aisle. Shop when the stores aren’t busy. Stop to help someone shorter than you are to get a jar off the top shelf, ask a fellow customer if they know where some item you need is shelved (because people feel good when they can help), and use any time stuck in a long line to chat and laugh. I recently found myself in a growing line of grocery shoppers as we were moved from one broken register to the next. The cashier looked distraught. Thankfully, none of us shoppers griped. We all just laughed and enjoyed the shuffle. One man even joked that, at this rate, we’d all soon be exchanging holiday cards. These seemingly small connections make a real difference in how happy people feel. They give us something to think about, savor, talk or laugh about later.

This spring, even if you have found yourself in the icy landscape of estrangement from adult children, take your prominent place as a neighbor, a friend, an elder, or a warm and fuzzy bear.

Your Turn

How are you making the most of your daily life? You can make this a meaningful moment by leaving a comment. Your words will inspire other rejected parents of adult children. We’re all in this thing called life together.

Related reading

Looking for good

Parents of estranged adult children: Reinvent yourself

When your children don’t like you: Lean on the bear necessities

 

Are you “stalking” an estranged adult child?

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stalking estranged adult children

Lurking parents:
Are you “stalking” an estranged adult child?

By Sheri McGregor, M.A.

The last time divorced mother, Vanessa, reached out, her daughter, Lynn, replied with a string of cruel texts laced with profanity that sickened Vanessa. Lynn then blocked her. Three weeks passed before Vanessa could go half an hour without tearful rumination and worry. Something must be dreadfully wrong. Vanessa would want to help, yet Lynn had pushed her away—again.

Other than a few blips of hopeful contact that never failed to disintegrate, they’d been estranged for more than five years. Mentally and physically exhausted, Vanessa knew it was time to go with the flow. She began working in earnest to develop a satisfying new normal, and to regain her sense of humor, confidence, and joy. A year later, she was doing well. She had a new job she enjoyed, a couple of trusted friends, and had even begun to consider dating. Life looked good. Then a relative said he’d seen her daughter emerging from a church’s evangelizing van—and the cycle of longing, compulsion, and emotional distress began again.

Vanessa researched the church online and discovered they broadcast livestreams of every meeting. After seeing Lynn, dressed in a long skirt and high-neck sweater like the church sisters she hugged and sang hymns with, Vanessa hunched over the computer screen every Sunday, hoping to catch another glimpse. She’d found a window into her daughter’s life.

In hand with her daughter’s erratic pattern of high enthusiasm followed by waning interest or even sudden disdain, Vanessa wasn’t surprised when her daughter stopped showing up on screen. She must have quit attending. Still, for several weeks, Vanessa watched each meeting in full, and then stayed tuned for the laying on of hands afterward. No Lynn. On Wednesday and Friday nights, she watched the prayer meetings online, but still didn’t see her daughter.

Consumed with worry, Vanessa felt compelled to reach out. When she did, she was still blocked. The cycle of emotional distress gripped her again.

Monitoring your adult children: What’s your purpose?

Observing our children is nothing new. Most of us had regular prenatal checkups including ultrasound imagery to monitor our child’s development in utero. Later, we installed baby monitors, watched over our children on the playground, and oversaw school progress with report cards and teacher meetings. Those old parenting habits are difficult to shake … but when it comes to adult children who want little or nothing to do with us, do we have the right? Or does it boil down to parents “stalking “an estranged adult child? Maybe that depends on who you ask. But is monitoring them good for us? Or for them?

Many parents tell me they keep track of their adult children over social media, via an employer’s website, or in some other way. If you monitor your estranged adult child’s life from afar, consider this: The definition of “monitor” includes a purpose. A proctor for test takers, a security guard’s camera views to watch over a site, or a lifeguard’s function all include that element. Supervising children is a necessary part of parenting. But if your contact with an adult child is unwanted or non-existent, what’s your purpose? Maybe you feel justified or that it’s necessary to monitor them. This isn’t meant as negative judgment, just a self-check as to whether it’s good for you.

Parents following an estranged adult child online:
Could there be surprise effects?

In science, there’s a concept called “the observer effect.” Quantum physics explains this at the subatomic level, where the movement of tiny particles is altered when observed. In psychology, this effect refers to people’s behavior changing when they are observed. Researchers seek to minimize the effect by using unobtrusive methods. What’s this have to do with monitoring your estranged adult children? In today’s world of internet cookies and algorithms, your observations may not be unobtrusive. Your estranged adult child’s online experience may be affected by yours.

Have you ever done a search for some product or need—and discovered that an advertisement shows up for that very thing the next few times you browse, even on unrelated websites? It can feel like you’re being stalked. Have you ever signed onto a social media platform and seen a friend recommendation for someone you don’t know? Chances are they’re connected to you in some way. Maybe a friend of a friend clicked on your picture when you liked a post. Or an inadvertent “like” of a shared meme shaped an algorithm and put you in a mutual categorical slot. Is it possible that our monitoring of an adult child’s social media puts us on their radar? Are we suggested as a “friend”? Do our internet pathways link us in ways that affect the ads they see, or who might be suggested to them? And if so, do they think of us in negative ways? (Mom must be stalking me again.)

I’ve seen threads on estranged adult children’s forums that talk about how they feel when parents “bother” them or they’re watched. Some ask for advice and get lots of me-too replies about parents they consider stalkers. They’re angry and view their parents as pitiful and weak. Some of the posters suggest changed behavior in response to being watched—the observer effect.

Monitor stress

Recently, a ten-year-old told me his classroom job as “test monitor” meant making sure everyone had a packet on test days—and he felt stressed. He always tried to hurry because the tests were limited on time. To beat the clock, students sometimes snatched a packet right out of his hand and immediately got started. Meanwhile, he couldn’t begin until he finished his job. Also, he confided, invariably, someone discovered a page missing, and it was on him to stop his own test taking, get that person another packet, and make things right.

The poor kid. He felt powerless. I suggested he talk to the teacher about his feelings, and he later told me he had. She apologized and changed the format so that everyone had a packet and checked for all pages before anyone started the test.

In this case, speaking up helped, but in monitoring … ahem … stalking an estranged adult children’s life from afar, identifying problems won’t come with that option.

Vanessa worried about her daughter’s mental health, but there was nothing she could do about it. Other parents see some changed behavior and guess about the cause. They become stressed but are powerless.

Instead of “stalking” an estranged adult child  (which is the word they often use to describe your behavior), monitor yourself

Vanessa had worked hard to escape the tug of heartstrings toward a daughter who engaged abusively or not at all. Then her relative offered a tidbit of information, propelling her back into a cycle of hurt. Even the most well-meaning relatives sometimes can trigger emotional longing or worries that tug our heartstrings and halt our progress.

This and other family tug-o-wars are covered more in depth in Beyond Done, and I hope you’ll read that book. For now, if you’re triggered somehow or feel compelled to monitor your adult child, the first step for self-care is recognition. Be aware of your feelings and make sound decisions rather than act on impulse or emotion. We hear a lot about boundaries, mostly as they relate to other people. But boundaries are good to impose upon ourselves as well. Vanessa could have recognized her compulsion when she sat down to look up the church. She could have drawn a line in the sand toward her own behavior. She could have shut her laptop and walked away.

The simple act of observing yourself—your thinking, your actions, your feelings—can affect your life. Make the observer effect work for you.

“Stalking” an estranged adult child: Are you hurting yourself?

Are you monitoring your estranged adult child? Reflect. Does the behavior help or hurt you? Rather than putting front and center something (or someone) that makes you feel powerless and reminds you of hurt, focus on your own life and where you can make positive change for your own contentment. I hope you’ll share your thoughts by leaving a comment on this article. Interacting with other parents of estranged adult children provides insight and support as you monitor your responses to estrangement, become more aware, and grow.

Related reading

What is the observer effect in quantum mechanics?

What is the observer effect in psychology?

What about quantum physics observer effect?