Tag Archives: rejected parents

Parents of estranged adult children: Is it Groundhog day?

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adult children's decisionsParents of estranged adult children: Is it Groundhog Day?

by Sheri McGregor, M.A.

In the 1993 movie, Groundhog Day, Bill Murray plays a self-centered weatherman assigned to the yearly event in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. He’s in for a surprise when the same day keeps repeating itself. That sort of rut is what this article is about.

In the throes of estrangement pain, we can become stuck, going through the same old motions, and hoping things will change. Even our thoughts may run on repeat, replaying traumatic memories like movie scenes, and bringing us to the same old looping refrain.

  • Why?
  • How can I make him change?
  • If only I had . . . . or hadn’t , , , X, Y, or Z (fill in the blank).

Unfortunately, as our thoughts cycle on repeat (without the rinse!), our behavior often follows, and we sink into a rut. At some point, we need to wake up and realize we have a life to live regardless of our adult children’s decisions to live without us. That doesn’t mean you must give up hope … but it does require a shift in attitude toward a better perspective.

Adult children’s decisions: A new day

As the tradition goes, the groundhog emerges from its hole and, depending on if it sees its shadow, winter continues or ends. The roots of the holiday can be traced to a variety of lore, as well as to different hibernators who emerge on this day that’s halfway between the winter solstice and spring. If the sun’s out, as the legend goes, the groundhog is scared by its shadow, prompting a retreat to darkness and heralding another six weeks of winter.

Can you relate? Many of us have spent numerous months or even years in a “winter” existence, hiding from the reality of our lives. We may have dreamed up fantasies that our estranged adult children will come around, that they will love us again, and that we’ll pick up where we left off. We may have believed others who told us this was just a phase and that our kids will wake up when they have their own children. We may have even told ourselves we can’t be happy until the relationships resume, that a good parent would never stop trying, or some other lore that keeps us stuck.

Time grows short, and most rejected parents do eventually realize they must take charge of their own happiness. As several books and song titles tell us, it’s an inside job. Yet, when they emerge after a long “winter” of distress, they can be as wary as a groundhog startled by its own shadow. Learning to live well again requires adjustment, which also takes time. My question: Why wait? Embrace your life now. What have you got to lose?

Adult children’s decisions: Face facts

I’m disheartened by some of the suggestions I’ve seen out there that keep parents of estranged adult children stuck. Even when parents are advised to reduce or entirely halt their efforts to reach out, it’s frequently intended as a tactic to prompt change in the estranged adult children—as in maybe they’ll miss you and come running. While that’s certainly a possibility, the idea keeps parents attached to an illusion of control.

The parents who read my blogposts and books are at varying stages of estrangement and its effects. Some are brand new to the disconnect. Others are years, and even decades, along. There is no such thing as one-size-fits-all advice, but no matter where you fall on the estrangement continuum, the reality is that the only one you can control is yourself.

For parents who are in the early daze of estrangement, that lifesaving fact might be clouded by the belief that you must have done something wrong. Why else would your own child disown you? <—-you may think. There are plenty who jump on the “blame the parent” bandwagon, but that doesn’t mean they’re right. While none of us were perfect parents, most of us did our best. In both of my books, I help parents manage their shock over adult children’s decisions, see their emotions in a new light, and look at themselves with clear eyes unfettered by a loved one’s revisionist history or downright abuse (link to article).

As one parent recently said, “Your books are like programs, with specific steps and support that helped me move ahead at my own pace. Finally, I’m feeling free to live my life, and now, I’m looking forward to each new day.”

Other parents who have made the decision to face facts and move forward for their own well-being have shared with me in recent emails:

  • “In your two books on estrangement, you spoke to me in a way I hadn’t experienced before. I totally related to you and your approach, and it felt like a cool glass of water on a very hot day. Thank you so much for that.” Elle, a psychologist, and an estranged mother
  • “You and your books have helped me so much. I have trained my mind not to reflect on the negativity.” Korrie, mother of two estranged adult sons
  • “Thank you for the article referencing stalking estranged adult child. I found comfort in this topic because I decided to stop following my daughter 6 months ago. It was too painful to see my grandchildren. Also, your books are very insightful. I am keeping hope but facing the reality of what happened. Moving forward to recover from loss is my personal journey.” Diane, mother of an estranged child and grandchildren
  • “After your books and writing things out, I am so super excited for the future! I will always miss my girls…but I can’t go back. I tried my best and they were always my first and foremost. Now it’s time to go forward for me!” Suzanna, mother of two estranged adults

Changing yourself

Just as Murray in Groundhog Day made a shift in himself, parents can take hold of what’s within their power to change: themselves. That means first recognizing the need for change, and then digging out of old habits that keep you burrowed in distress. That’s true whether in your thinking or in what you do.

In Murray’s case, the shift included being more thoughtful of other people. Most of the parents reading this will need to be kinder to themselves. Some will also recognize that their sadness and preoccupation with the estranged one(s) requires the need to better appreciate the loyal ones in their lives.

Self-examination and commitment to positive change puts you on the pathway to self-care and fosters individual growth for your own well-being regardless of another adult’s choices. Whether there are clouds or sunshine, won’t you join the thousands of parents who have made the decision to nurture themselves and grow into a new way of life?

Take courage, face your shadow, and step toward a new season of your life. You can embrace your own brand of resilience and take charge of your well-being and your life. Your adult children’s decisions may have put you on this lonely road, but you can choose your route now. Make this your halfway point, the juncture where you make a turn, steer away from wintry sticking points of estrangement pain, and move toward spring.

Related reading

Solid growth can change you

Groundhog Day: History and facts

Disappointing relationships with adult children: Help for the roller coaster ride this autumn

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disappointing relationships with adult children

Disappointing relationships with adult children:
Help for the roller coaster ride this autumn

by Sheri McGregor

In my area, the leaves are just starting to flutter softly from the trees. Oak acorns and the tiny feet of red fox squirrels pitter-patter on the roof. It’s autumn, a time of letting go and preparing for what’s ahead. These activities are a perfect fit for parents anguished by disappointing relationships with adult children.

Autumn always reminds me of family outings and trips when my children were growing up. After the busy summer, when everyone’s traveling, we went to theme parks in the off-season of fall.

I’m not big on thrill rides. I was often the one waiting in line with my loved ones, not wanting to drag down their fun, yet sometimes exiting through the last possible turnstile out. Over the years, I’ve measured fun versus fright and climbed aboard a few. As I strapped in, my neck muscles cramped and my heartbeat pounded in my ears. The ride jolted forward, and I wondered how the people around me could laugh with expectant delight all the way up the clackety tracks to the peak. Meanwhile, my whole body was tensing with fear.

The last thing I’d see before squeezing my eyes shut were excited riders raising their hands high with glee. Then whoosh! Down we’d go, me gripping the bar so tightly my hands would hurt. Finally, with the final splash and the sound of jaunty music ushering the log or car to a sudden stop, I’d open my eyes and smile—glad to get off but often faced with another decision—my companions wanted to go again.

Life can be similar when it comes to disappointing relationships with adult children. We tire of the ups and downs but feel compelled to try again, to get back on the emotional ride.

 How will you wait?

Every roller coaster includes a line and a final chance to change your mind. Knowing there was a possible out ahead, I learned to enjoy the wait. I used the time to joke around with my companions, relish the excitement of kids eager to get on board the ride ahead, and witness the joy of families when they disembarked and ran to find their picture at the photo booth. Or, just savor a much-needed caffeinated drink. The wait is the same when it comes to disappointing relationships with adult children. We can choose to spend our time torn and distressed, or we can seek out people and activities to savor, finding the good in our lives and experiences.

Disappointing relationships with adult children: You can choose

At the crest of every coaster, there’s a moment of no return. Over the years, I’ve learned that lifting my arms high helps me fare better or even enjoy the descent. Rather than holding on so tightly that my knuckles bruise and my muscles ache for days, I can bounce along in my seat, even keeping my eyes open to see the end getting closer.

All riders have experienced the instant of descent when our gut hesitates. We don’t have a choice about that, but we can borrow from the experience and learn. We can grip so tightly we hurt ourselves, or we can lift our arms in surrender. We can let go.

When it comes to our sons and daughters, even when we know it’s time to disembark the relationship roller coaster, we may feel compelled to stay on the ride. We may cling to disappointing relationships. Adult children are our flesh and blood. Aren’t we supposed to remain connected?

That’s what we learned and believed. However, even as parents, you have the right to choose. You get to decide when you’ve had enough—and you know what? It’s okay to protect yourself, to move forward, to treasure your life. Give yourself permission to get off the ride and gravitate to the sights and sounds of autumn such as the colorful fallen leaves, pumpkin spice lattes, and steaming apple cider.

A time of transition

As the leaves fall and nature grows still, there is work taking place beneath the surface. There is preparation for the new growth and enlightenment of the coming spring. Won’t you join in with the natural thrust of the autumn season? Subscribe to my newsletter so you’ll receive notice of updates here at the site. You can leave comments and interact with other parents who’ve also experienced abuse, rejection, and otherwise disappointing relationships with adult children. You’ll also want to read my books, engage with the exercises, and join thousands of others who are approaching the point of being “done” with the crying and adopting new avenues of fulfillment and joy. Use these resources to help you do the work necessary to enjoy your life while you wait or get off the coaster ride entirely. Prepare for your coming spring.

Related reading

From sadness of estrangement to meaning

Rejected parents ask: When should we get on with our lives?

History of the roller coaster

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heartbroken parents: Are you to blame?

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heartbroken parents

Heartbroken parents: Are you to blame for your adult children’s problems (or estrangement)?

By Sheri McGregor, M.A.

To a heartbroken parent driving to a neighboring town in the U.S., the message of this billboard hit like a punch in the gut. The “effective counseling” it advertises comes across as one-sided and pandering. This can’t be healthy (can it?).

Thousands of heartbroken parents tell me their adult children blame them for their every problem. Yet even I was shocked at this billboard. It’s a bald-faced presentation of something I also hear often: That, when it comes to family estrangement (and more specifically, parent-and-adult-child estrangement) our culture, and even some therapists, are part of the problem.

“We live in crazy times,” said the mother who saw this offensive billboard a few weeks ago. She hasn’t spoken to her son in four years, nor seen the sweet grandchild with whom she’d previously bonded. She isn’t the only heartbroken parent to conclude, “Society is supporting these adult children to reject us parents.”

It’s the parents’ fault: A pervasive attitude

When people have issues, they are frequently advised to find the root. Uncovering the beginnings of unhealthy emotional habits, ways of thinking, and managing our lives can be a positive start. However, too often, the root leads rather simplistically to parents. A few examples:

  • Shame-based? Your parents must have used guilt to rule you.
  • Don’t trust your own judgment? As a child, you must have been told your decisions were dumb or your feelings were wrong.
  • Can’t stick up for yourself? You got the message you weren’t important anyway.

There can be truth in these, but when an adult stops there, looks for proving evidence and embellishes, or is advised to cut off relationships rather than try to dig deeper, understand or empathize, they no longer grow. In blaming parents, they can excuse themselves—and they’ll find many to echo the blame. Just as peddlers of hope can keep parents who did their best stuck apologizing and forever trying to reconnect, there are mentors of blame. They preach to a choir of adults who refuse responsibility for their own bad decisions with their resulting consequences and hold their parents accountable instead.

Parent-blaming can be subtle or direct

Often, a grabber headline misleads, like for the article I wrote about here: Are a parent’s mistakes worthy of “hate”? In our text-rich world of social media one-liners that are sometimes the sum of one’s news consumption and then are repeated like gospel, these titles negatively stereotype parents and sway opinion. The negative portrayals of the older generation are prevalent—and hurt (read my article: Negatively stereotyping parents of estranged adult children: It hurts).

Other parent-blaming is more subtle and intellectualized. In some cases, the ideas may even apply. But even the smartest sounding blame can harm loving, heartbroken parents—and their troubled adult children who don’t learn to empathize or take responsibility for their own mistakes.

One New York Times article used a grabber headline to talk about what’s known as “attachment theory.” While attachment theory makes some sense, it is just as its name implies: a theory. Furthermore, it was conceived more than half a century ago. Our world and how we live in it has evolved (or, in some ways, devolved!). Lifestyle norms have changed. Also, the childhood behaviors attributed to caregiver styles in attachment theory may or may not translate to adult relational behavior as the article, “Yes, It’s Your Parent’s Fault,” seems to convey. So, why such a certain title? Negative stereotyping grabs eyeballs. Unfortunately, it also furthers generational division and fosters blame. At the very least, it’s irresponsible. It’s also too easy, same as blaming other people for one’s own mistakes.

The piece mentions interviews/questionnaires aimed at determining one’s dominant attachment style but points out that results may vary from one questionnaire to the next. The mismatch is explained away as resulting from the skill and training of the interviewer or a person’s level of self-awareness (or lack thereof!). My translation? If you want to blame your parents for your adult relationship problems, you can. These questionnaires may help.

Do something

The more light is shed on a problem, the more society becomes aware. That’s why I call attention to the way parents are frequently portrayed as overbearing, needy, nosy, or unbending. This portrayal is an unjust presentation that fosters ageism and promotes division. This disservice to older people can manifest in unhealthy ways when parents seek help after an estrangement occurs. This is discussed at length in my award-winning book, Beyond Done With The Crying: More Answers and Advice for Parents of Estranged Adult Children (2021). Beyond Done is a follow-up to my first book (also award winning) for heartbroken parents, Done With The Crying. I hope you’ll read both, and use the examples and exercises to work toward your own well-being.

Sometimes, our past experiences do influence how we interact with other people, including our adult children. As a parent with a long-term estrangement and in communicating with thousands of other moms and dads, my work centers on parents’ personal growth, emotional strength, and enlightenment. My work is specific to estrangement and how you may be affected in the various aspects of your family, work, and general life. Don’t stay stuck.

You spent a lifetime caring for children who are now adults. You can be true to yourself, remain open to the possibility of a healthy relationship if that’s desired, yet disengage from negative interactions or chasing behavior that steals your sense of dignity and makes you feel weak. You can hold out hope yet get on with your own life and enjoy the people who value you.

Society, theorists, and even ill-conceived billboards offering “effective counseling” may blame you, but you know the truth. You were there. Likewise, you’re here now. Take charge and make the most of your precious life. Start this minute.

Develop your natural resilience. Step into a freer, happier future.

Hugs to all the heartbroken parents,

Sheri McGregor

Estranged parents: Get out of the comfort zone

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estranged parents comfort zoneEstranged parents: Get out of the comfort zone

By Sheri McGregor, M.A.

Venus, the perky young woman in brightly colored spandex, paused her pen on the intake form and looked up with a grin. “How tall did you say you were?”

“Five ten and a half,” I replied.

“Ooh, girl!” she said with a squeal. “I hear Victoria’s Secret is looking for models.”

How many times had she used that line, I wondered, as she jotted my data on her form.

“Let me tell you about the program.” All business now, she launched into her sales pitch for the fitness program that included a meal plan, classes, and full use of the gym every day.

I squirmed in my seat. This was getting real.

As she went on about High Intensity Training classes she referred to as “HIT,” my mind wandered back to the advertisement I’d first seen online:

estranged parents comfort zone

In front of my computer, my index finger had hovered over the “join” button. I’d never liked gyms, but I did recently turn 60, and I was holding some extra pounds from a recent long-distance move, heaped-on stress, and Covid-19 (isn’t that last one everyone’s excuse right now?). It was time to get out of my comfort zone. Besides, how hard could this be?

I imagined a supportive group of older women, smiling and laughing, cheering each other on. Maybe we’d become friends—something I could use in my new town, which was just emerging from pandemic restrictions.

My nerves racing with a mix of fear and excitement, I had clicked on “join,” filled in my info, and was prompted to choose an orientation time. When I did, my phone almost immediately jangled. A text had arrived from my new personal trainer: See you tomorrow, Sheri. I can’t wait to help you crush your goals!

Now, as I met with Venus at a small desk near the entry door to the gym, I wondered: Am I really ready for this?

Cozy up

During the Covid-19 pandemic, the safety zone of home took on more importance. To varying degrees, many of us had no choice but to embrace isolation. Estranged parents’ comfort zone usually already means shrinking back from social situations to avoid awkward questions and uncomfortable explanations. The pandemic made isolation the norm.

Some estranged parents said knowing that made being alone a little easier. Others felt the sting of estrangement more acutely. If a global pandemic can’t make someone see how fleeting life can be, what can? It became a turning point. Regardless, now that the whole world is starting to step beyond the safe comfort of home, estranged parents can join in the collective momentum, push past boundaries, and derive benefits. That’s what I was thinking anyway, when I clicked on “join” for the fitness challenge.

Estranged parents, get out of your comfort zone

Estranged parents suffer deleterious effects to psyches, health, and self-worth. You might have caught yourself asking questions such as these:

  • Who am I if I’m no longer a dad?
  • What gives me purpose if I’m no longer a grandmother?
  • If my own flesh and blood doesn’t want me, who will?

Don’t get down on yourself about the thoughts. Estranged parents are thrust into a transition beyond their control. That’s similar to the pandemic’s effects. Only this time, we need to recognize the benefit of getting out of our comfort zone rather than leaning into it. Why? Because pushing our boundaries is good for us. Stepping beyond our boundaries builds mental muscles the same as I expected the gym to build my physical ones.

Pushing past boundaries: Good for estranged parents

Everyone is forced from their comfort zone from time to time. A looming deadline, a required appointment, or some other pressing need causes anxiety that spurs us to get things done. And when we do step out, we build confidence for the next time we must take action.

We can purposefully build self-confidence by choosing activities that cause a little productive anxiety. Researchers call this “optimal anxiety,” which means enough stress that we’re not overchallenged or paralyzed in fear but we venture just beyond the comfort zone that keeps us stagnant. Optimal anxiety drives us to act. Then, we can feel good about pushing our boundaries, even a little, and trying something new or challenging.

Estranged parents’ self-esteem takes a hit. Fight back. Getting out of your comfort zone, in planned, manageable ways, helps you regain your self-worth.

Another benefit is that igniting optimal anxiety helps you better manage anxiety in general. Estranged parents face a lot of uncertainty about the future.  Will we ever get past this? Will my child have regrets? Can I really move forward?

One thing about the future is certain: Time is precious. We might as well get joy and fulfillment out of life while we can. As scary as it is, moving beyond our comfort zone is required.

Pushing yourself, even a little, can help you feel more alive. To mope around and think sad thoughts, get stuck in anger, or worry about the future only digs you more deeply into ruts of despair. Remember when you were younger, and everything was new? Pushing past your comfort zone sparks those old feelings of life being fresh and new. That may mean you feel more like your old self (or even better).

Fine wine may sit in a barrel and get better with age, but people must shake themselves up and take action to get the same result. Stretching the mind and engaging the body maintains or even enhances cognitive abilities as people age. Pushing past the comfort zone helps.

We gain new territory when we try new things. Our boundaries widen when we push beyond them. Bottom line? Getting out of the comfort zone improves us.

Escaping the comfort zone: Strategies

Start small. For me, that meant acting without immediate commitment. I pressed the join button, chose an orientation date, and then showed up to meet Venus and learn more about the program. I committed to explore the idea, but that didn’t mean immediately signing on the dotted line.

You may be like me and feel the need to know more before deciding something big or challenging. I tamped down my anxiety by keeping my thoughts in check: This is just an orientation. I’m exploring the program. I haven’t committed yet.  This wouldn’t work for everyone, but for me, just agreeing to the orientation pushed my boundaries. I’d never joined a gym and never wanted to. The thought of entering one now was a cardio exercise in and of itself.

Accountability. After booking the appointment, I told two people who I knew would cheer me on. Confiding plans keeps you accountable. Choose someone who will be supportive and who will follow-up. You’ll want to report the good news!

Overcome opposition with benefits. After 38 years of marriage, including my husband in decisions is second nature. I knew he would be supportive and told him immediately, but in remembering that conversation for this blog post, I realized something else has become second nature: featuring his benefits. As I told him about my fitness challenge, my benefits morphed into things that he might like. I’d want to ride bicycles with him more often, or maybe after the program, we could join the gym and workout together.

If you face opposition, find ways to present your plan so it benefits the other person. Or, if you’re your own opposition, present the benefits to yourself. Write them down even. Then turn to them if you start to feel scared.

Look at my results

You’re probably expecting before and after photos . . . but things didn’t turn out as planned. That day at the orientation, Venus began throwing out specifics about how the HIT training would work.

“You’ll do a bunch of jumping jacks, drop down to the floor for a set of planks, then get up and run around the building three times, and get back inside the gym for more.” She continued about class sizes and the coaches who would “motivate” me. My anxiety began to rise.

“What about the women over 60?” I asked.

“Oh, there will be a few of you, girl,” she said. “You’ll be required to take at least three classes a week and they’re open to everyone. People drop in and out however that works for them.”

I glanced around the gym where a bunch of twenty- and thirty-somethings in clothes as tight as their bodies lifted weights, ran on treadmills, or climbed stairs in place. Their taut skin gleamed with a sheen of sweat. My dreams of a supportive group of women like me evaporated.

“HIT is the only way to lose weight,” Venus said. “The classes are kinda like P90X.”

I’d seen the infomercials full of hard bodies and lots of sweat. Those workouts involved a variety of maneuvers that were INTENSE. “P90X?” I repeated.

Venus shrugged. “Kinda.”

Suddenly, the goals that had begun to take shape with Venus’s first motivating text seemed impossible. This wasn’t what I’d imagined. Remembering the painful joint problem that had left me unable to walk for more than a week two autumns ago, I knew this particular challenge wasn’t for me. That’s because I know myself. Not wanting to look weak or call attention to myself, I’d work so hard to keep up with a bunch of youngsters in Spandex that I’d end up hurting myself. I’d crush my goals all right—in self-defeat.

Venus must have sensed me wavering. “Don’t let your mind hold you back,” she said, probably as she had a thousand times. . . . Even so, I wondered if I should go ahead. She’d spent her time to sell her product.

She winked. “A few classes with our coaches and you’ll crush your goals.”

I imagined the coaches like sinewy P90X drill sergeants in tight shirts, barking orders, pushing me to perform.

“Gir-ril,” Venus chirped. “That modeling contract is waiting for you!”

Modeling contract? More like a heating pad and a walker. I laughed. “I’ll need to think about it.”

Immediately, Venus stood. She knew I wasn’t going to fork over the $300. “Well, thanks for coming in,” she said, ushering me toward the door.

“No, thank you,” I replied, glad she didn’t persist. I exited the humid confines of the gym and stepped into the sunlight.

Not a failure

While the program wasn’t quite what the advertisement had presented, it wasn’t all a loss. Just by entertaining the idea of joining a gym and a fitness group, I’d pushed my boundaries. Attending the orientation built my confidence, made me feel alive, and even more eager to get myself back in tip-top shape—on my own terms. That means getting back to my active lifestyle (swimming, hiking in beautiful places, daily walks. . . ).

Knowing what’s right for you, accepting yourself even when someone pushes their own agenda, is another way to press past boundaries. I wonder how many 60+ women clicked “join” and attended an orientation with the same fantasy as me? Especially after all the months of Covid-19 restrictions, how many long for the camaraderie of like-minded, age-similar people to cheer each other on? Some may feel cornered, end up paying the fee, and then not follow through.

I didn’t join the fitness challenge, but this wasn’t a failure. Rather, by admitting my limitations and honoring my intuition, I built my interior strength. I may have gone in with the goal of more physical strength but I gained emotional fortitude in the process.

Your Turn

By pushing past my boundaries, I see myself as strong in a whole new way. Proving to ourselves that we can step beyond our comfort zone helps us hold a new vision for ourselves going forward. How about you? Is it time to break out of your comfort zone, build confidence, and see yourself in new and inspiring ways? I’ll answer for you: YES!

Some of you already successfully do this. I hope you’ll leave comments and share how you estranged parents get out of your comfort zone and reap the benefits. For those in the planning stage: How will you push past your comfort zone and expand your boundaries? For some of you, that will mean learning to say “no,” and stop people-pleasing. Others will have physical goals for better health. Some may need to take a step for emotional self-care.

What will you try, what are your fears, and how will you overcome them? Later, you can report back with your insights and wins, and that will inspire even more estranged parents. Let’s cheer each other on!

Related Reading:

Abandoned parents: Are you chewing?

Estranged parents: Going batty?

Estrangement: Parents, use weepy days for your own good.

Kneaded: Resilience illustrated for parents of estranged adult children

27 Replies

by Sheri McGregor, M.A.

adult child won't talk to me

Photo by Life Of Pix from Pexels

During the first year, I took up making bread from scratch.  I bought glossy, coffee table recipe books with beautiful photos of freeform artisan breads, out-of-print books with healthy recipes requiring obscure ingredients, and fat paperbacks chock full of variety that became well-worn. I bought a pizza stone, a pizza peel, loaf pans in an array of sizes, serrated knifes and a countertop slicing guide. I experimented with flatbreads, made dinner rolls and cinnamon rolls and bagels. I made bread every day. It kept me occupied. And in looking back, I can see that it was also about my family, about breaking bread together and all that means.

I tried a bread machine with a kneading function, but it wasn’t the same. There was something therapeutic in the hands-on approach. As I kneaded, working up a sweat and toning my arms in the process, the dough became stretchy and strong.  I could feel the gluten strands doing their magic in the way the dough held together, smooth and soft, tough yet pliant. I could see that too, in the little “windows” that revealed themselves in stretched-thin dough that didn’t break.

I learned about the need for moisture in the oven and what a difference a few degrees of heat can make. I learned how yeast functions, too.  Even with the scientific knowledge, leaving a small, smooth ball in an oiled bowl, and returning later to find a puffy pillow, doubled or tripled in size was nothing short of a miracle to me. And each time I punched it down, it would rise again, resilient.

The toughest lesson was the need to wait. While the air swirled with the scent of fresh baked yeast bread, patience was essential. Hot loaves crush rather than properly slice.

My favorite recipe was one that made my family happy. It added bits of cold butter and powdered milk to the dough. The bread required longer kneading, and a third rising period that brought it spilling over the bowl. All that beating and punching down, yet it rose ever higher—the finished loaf as light and fluffy as a cloud, yet also strong.

As I would knead that dough, I sometimes imagined it a bit like me. My son’s estrangement had me emotionally rolled, twisted, and flattened. Punched down and left on a shelf. And like the gluten in that dough, I imagined the strands of my soul growing stronger, more flexible, and holding together. I could take an emotional kneading, a punching down, and be resilient like that bread dough rising yet another time. As the years have passed, I have found this to be true.

In my daily life, I am tough like that dough. Pliant and flexible and holding together.  On some days, I’m even as light and airy as the finished product.

You can be resilient too

Thousands of parents have read Done With The Crying and found it informative and empowering. I think you will, too. It’s chock full of ingredients to help.

Related Reading

Adult child won’t talk to me: Is it time to go with the flow?

Adult child won’t talk to me: When the world is scary, bend and twist

Happy New Year 2020

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A reader sent me a link to this beautiful New Year’s blessing for the New Year, and it is too touching and wonderful not to share. I hope you will be as touched by the video and the beautiful music and sentiments I was. Hint: It’s even more moving if you allow it to open full-screen.

May we all have a joyful 2020 filled with love, beauty, and peace.

Hugs to you from Sheri McGregor.

Related reading:

Estrangement in the New Year: Blanket of Snow

New Year New Attitude

Freedom for a new era

Put On Your 2020 Vision

 

A New way of life after an adult child’s estrangement

8 Replies

Coddiwomple to a New Way of Life After an Adult Child’s Estrangement

by Sheri McGregor, M.A.

life after an adult child's estrangement

Rejected parents are often uncertain about the future. They know what’s happening now, but they can’t believe their adult child’s estrangement will last. They want to move forward, but they’re afraid to make a change. For some, stepping toward their own satisfying life feels like giving up on the son or daughter they hope will return to them, relationship restored. Others keep a room ready, a stash of left-behind things, or try to reach out regularly … and then wait for the reply that doesn’t come or isn’t what they expected.

If this is at all like you, I have a suggestion: a coddiwomple.

Lightening up

Did you know that the first seven days of August are set aside as National Simplify Your Life Week? It fits for me because lately, I’ve been working purposely at simplifying. I’m heading toward change that I know is on the horizon but can’t yet clearly describe.

I’m like a lot of people at midlife who know that changes are (or may be) coming and want to move toward a new way of life that supports the next life phase—but don’t yet have a crystal-clear picture of what or where that will be.

It’s a sort of coddiwomple, traveling purposefully toward an unknown destination. Granted, most people use the word as part of actual, physical travel during which adventures take place along the way (I love that too!), but a coddiwomple fits for this determined work of lightening up for a lifestyle that isn’t yet defined.

Preparing now

The idea of downsizing in mid-life or after retirement is nothing new. People move to smaller homes, better climates, or where they can easily get to shops and healthcare. They look for places where they can access greenspaces to walk in nature and conveniently socialize with friends. But for many, the decisions aren’t easy and the process not quick.

life after an adult child's estrangement

That’s how it is for my husband and me. Do we want to move to another city? Be closer to specific family members? Live in more open space or closer to town? Join a neighborhood that fosters social connections? Or, is privacy and seclusion more important? These are just a few of the questions we’re asking ourselves. In the process, our goal is getting clearer. Financial entanglements and other ties mean we can’t make a move quite yet. And the need to put off final decisions gives us time to consider things from every angle.

We don’t know yet for sure where we’re going or when, but we do know we need to prepare. Better to be ready when the time is right than be forced into snap decisions. That’s why comparing this transitional period toward an as-yet-vague goal to a coddiwomple makes sense.

We’re going to travel a little during this time and check out areas we’ve been curious about. Other people make bigger changes toward an unclear goal. One couple sold their ranch and rented a downtown condo. When their year-long lease ends, they’ll try another city. Eventually, they plan to settle. Maybe near their daughter on the opposite coast. Or maybe in a spot they fall in love with as they coddiwomple across the states.

A single mother nearing age 65 is trying alternative and spiritual practices including meditation, attending sound healing sessions, and visiting churches. She describes this as a six-month sabbatical from making decisions about the rest of her life. It’s a gift to herself. She hopes to gain a sense of peace before taking big steps toward the next phase of life.

Goals and the required mindsets

  • Deliberative: The point at which one gathers information about a potential goal and what will be required to achieve it. The deliberative mindset allows for sound judgment about the goal’s possible viability prior to the action it will take.
  • Implemental: The doing of a goal. In the implemental mindset, focus shifts to how to get tasks completed and actively working toward achievement.

The two mindsets can work together. Right now, my husband and I are taking a deliberative approach about what will be the final goal, but we’re getting started anyway. We’re implementing as we work toward uncertain change by finishing projects like our bedroom floor. We’re redoing a bathroom, cutting some trees, and fixing a fence. We’re also culling material things. For my husband, that means selling equipment and tools. He doesn’t talk about it, but he’s letting go of an outcome that never materialized. One where our sons might take over his business.

Things seem to hold feelings; unrealized dreams, and old ways of life. In stacks of children’s books, I come across slips of paper styled like tickets, hints of long-ago games my children played. They each wrote their names in those books too, their individual handwriting as unique as the people they always were and later became.

It’s an emotional pursuit that digs at ideals and makes us sad. Yet ultimately, letting go of these things shakes us free of old dreams. It prepares us mentally for an eventual goodbye to the place we’ve called home for more than three decades.

Coddiwomple for life after an adult child’s estrangement

Regardless of what an estranging adult will or won’t do, working toward a stronger you will help. Get started, purposefully, on your own well-being. If you do reconcile, you’ll be happy and better prepared when the time comes. If you don’t, you will be happy and fulfilled, living your life to the fullest anyway.

For some parents, figuring out a life for themselves aside from what they thought it would be like is tough. If you’re feeling lost or troubled, imagine yourself on a journey, a coddiwomple, and get going with passion toward your own happiness without worrying so much about the destination. One way is to see how far you’ve slipped away from caring for your oldest friend (yourself!). You can do that with my Self Care Assessment. Another is to get a copy of Done With The Crying in which I’ll show you that you’re not alone in estrangement and gently guide you beyond the doldrums of loss and into a fulfilling life you design and implement.

Related Reading:

Estrangement: When letting go hurts

Dealing With Uncertainty: Help for parents estranged from adult children

Spring Cleaning When Adult Children Want No Contact

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Parents blamed by adult children. Are parents’ ‘mistakes’ worthy of hate?

39 Replies

By Sheri McGregor

A father recently wrote to me about an article he’d seen at AARP. Here’s a link to it: “Avoid Mistakes That Could Make Your Kids Hate You.” 

Are parents’ mistakes, worthy of hate? 

parents blamed by adult children

Parents’ mistakes? Let’s turn that around.

Thousands of parents blamed by adult children for all their problems write to me. Among those, many have been called upon in drastic situations. A son or daughter makes a mess of things repeatedly and needs money or other help. The parent may help … and then try to tell the adult something to the effect of, “Look, you’ve got to wise up. . . .” In other words, the parents give advice.

As time goes on, the parent may see the adult son or daughter not learning anything from their mistakes, maybe not even trying to learn. Parents can begin to feel used. They may tell the “child” that the Bank of Mom & Dad is closing. Parents have their own bills or may be living on a fixed income or have a nest egg that needs to last their remaining years. It is often at that point that the child cuts them off.

Which makes me think of the abuse that sometimes happens. Parents can be isolated.  A parent may not be physically well, is disabled, or perhaps a widow or widower. The isolation makes them vulnerable to a son or daughter who knows what buttons to push. I have heard from many parents who say that they put up with abuse, financial, verbal, or even physical, because their child is their only family left in the world.

Parents blamed by adult children 

I hear from people almost daily who say, “My grown daughter blames me for everything wrong in her life.” Or, “My adult son says I caused all of his problems.” These children are often in their 30s or 40s or beyond, and remember with detail every “wrong” the parent has ever done. Sometimes the memories are completely different than that of the parent or even siblings and other family members. And many times, the “wrongs” are miniscule.

Twice in the last week, mothers shared that their daughters say all their issues derive from the fact they weren’t breastfed. One of these two moms was a single parent. It was a different world back then. Working mothers were not provided with understanding and a place to pump breast milk (as is the norm now). The other mom was encouraged to bottle feed by her doctor, as were many mothers in the 1960s. Yes. I said 1960s. . . . The daughter doing the blaming is 54. Maybe it’s time she did a little self-reflection rather than blaming the mother who worked two jobs to care for her.

Parents blamed by adult children, recognize the good you did.

It’s wise to recognize our own mistakes as parents, but it’s also wise for adult “children” to consider a parent’s point of view. One of my sons recently traveled to a very cold climate. Before he left, I said, “Do you have a warm enough jacket?” He made a funny face, and then we both laughed like crazy! It was funny, and I added, “I guess you’re old enough to figure that one out.” It’s a mom thing, but is it reason to abandon me. No. How about hate me? No. And he knows that (thank goodness).

The father who wrote to me about the AARP article said that one of the reasons he was successful in his overall life was that he had learned to recognize problems quickly and work to fix them before they were upon him.  When he sees his young adult daughter ignoring problems until she’s forced to deal with them, it causes him stress. His words, “The anxiety kills me.” So, he tries to offer her advice. She resents that advice. But is that reason to hate him or cut him off?

How about a rule?

The article mentions a parent forwarding emails, and not understanding that the son or daughter is already inundated. I know that feeling. A much older relative often sent me a batch of forwards daily. This individual wasn’t computer savvy, didn’t type well, and worried about his privacy on the internet, so I never received a regular note. Was it a reason to hate? No.

No, no, no. It was an opportunity for me to be understanding. And creative.

Perhaps an adult son or daughter can create a “rule” in their email account. That way all the forwarded emails go to a certain box, don’t clog the general folder, and everyone is happy. A considerate son or daughter who recognizes their parents’ motivation to communicate and stay in touch (which is what is behind the forwarded emails) might do well to check the special folder now and again and make a comment in reply. What does it hurt to let parents know they’re appreciated for their good intentions? Beats hating.

Okay to hate?

This is getting long, so let me close with what I see as the main problem with the article this father shared:  It covertly makes the point that it is okay to hate your parents. From the title (“Avoid Mistakes That Could Make Your Kids Hate You”) on, the warning is that if parents make these mistakes, their children will hate them. HATE them. I see far too much of this in our society these days. Kind, caring parents who aren’t all that horrible yet are considered “toxic,” and worthy of hate.

Lift the veil. See the good you did.

To the father who wrote to me, I want to offer my empathy. When one of my five grown children became estranged, I mined every memory with a fine-toothed comb, wondering what I did wrong. Parents are very good at taking on the perspective of their adult child(ren), which has been demonstrated in research related to estrangement. The same research, however, shows that the children who reject parents are not.

In time, I hope all of the caring parents who are nevertheless rejected by adult children will not only see their own mistakes and even magnify them, but also recognize all the good they did.

When you can look past the veil of estrangement that clouds your memories and steers you toward any mistakes, you might even realize that the good you did as a parent far outweighs the bad. There’s an exercise in Done With The Crying that can help.

Hugs to all the hurting parents,
Sheri McGregor

Related reading:

Abusive adult children affect parents’ self-image

Beyond the shadow of estrangement

Freedom for a new era (parents rejected by adult children)

Estranged adult children: Why do they make contact now?

Mother yourself

Sheri McGregor radio interview for parents of estranged adults

9 Replies

In February, I appeared on Beyond 50 Radio for a talk with host Daniel Davis. As it turns out, he is also a rejected parent, with an estranged adult daughter. We touched on many facets of estrangement. I hope you’ll find the radio show helpful. Please give it a thumbs-up.

If you’re the parent of an estranged adult, listen up. You’re not alone in this heartbreaking situation. And you can be happy again. Click the Beyond50 banner below to go to youtube and listen.

radio interview with Sheri McGregor

How do I love me? Let me count the ways. . . .

3 Replies

cut of by sons

by Sheri McGregor, M.A.

How do I love me? Let me count the ways. . . .

Does that title sound selfish to you? In this month when we celebrate love, I hope you will remember that you’re deserving of your own kindness and care. When we’re cut off by sons or daughters, we need all the love we can get. Below, I’ve listed a few points that link to posts to help.

How do I love me? Let me count SIX ways!

  1. By being compassionate, kind, and patient with myself.
  2. By taking good care of myself.
  3. By remembering my own strength, or the examples of others, during times of adversity.
  4. By participating in life; not letting time pass me by.
  5. By spreading a little happiness to also increase my own.
  6. By remembering that it’s good to give and to celebrating love.

cut off by sonsHappy Valentine’s hugs to all, and especially to the parents cut off by sons or daughters.