When your adult child breaks your heart:
Healing after estrangement

by Sheri McGregor, M.A.
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When out-of-town guests recently visited, I was all-in for some walking around a nearby city’s historic district. With the foot I’d broken at the start of summer on the mend, a jaunt out was a perfect opportunity to wear the sandals I’d bought just before the fracture. They were still brand new, and I admired them happily as I fastened the strap. After months of careful use my foot was no longer swollen. It looked svelte in the springy comfort sandals with a fashionista flair. I was ready to have fun.

We parked in a nearby tower, made our way through a tunnel connecting the new city area to the historic one, and found our way to the riverfront. In the murky water, a sea lion raised its flipper, lolling in the water near the tour boats, then disappeared into the depths. We took a selfie with the iconic Tower Bridge in the background, strolled the narrow halls of an old steamboat that’s now a hotel, and then crossed the train tracks onto cobblestone streets leading into the center of Old Town. That’s when our plans went awry.

We meandered the sturdy wood-plank walkways fronting the interesting old buildings, eager to explore the interesting shops, galleries, and eateries that now inhabit the cubbyhole hideaways and ornate interiors of yesteryear’s apothecary shops, banks, and saloons. But on a Monday morning, most of the weekend-weary shops had sleepy doors firmly closed to visitors.

On a whim, we decided to hoof it two miles to a trendy restaurant near the Capitol. My foot felt fine as we navigated the modern cement sidewalks, marveling at huge downtown hotels, the convention center, and wondrous, towering specimens that lent a wooded feel to the urban landscape in the City of Trees. After our meal, we returned via a different, longer route that took us unexpectedly through city blocks where “shady” had double meanings, then past a group of protestors, the downtown library, law enforcement buildings, and the courthouse.

The day was out of the ordinary and fun, but later, I paid a price. My foot swelled and ached. The sandal straps left deep impressions. I realized I had pushed too hard too soon.

As I rested my “under standing” on stacked pillows, I thought of how recovering when your adult child breaks your heart can be similar. We think we’re doing fine and then suddenly we’re not.

Physical healing occurs in layers. I could bear weight and walk without issue in my soft, wide-width sport shoes, but the friction of straps stirred up tenderness and pain. It’s the same with deep emotional wounds. We heal enough to carry on, but later, we venture into certain social situations, or begin to share more openly, and discover tender layers lie deep. It’s not a failing. It’s the way our bodies, and our hearts, move in stages toward deeper healing. Just as bones aren’t broken one day and mended the next, our heartaches don’t switch from on to off in an instant.

When your adult child breaks your heart: Use the RICE method

As we head toward autumn and the holiday season, be aware that social friction may reactivate your deep emotional injuries. As you would do with a physical injury, allow yourself a break. My foot needed the RICE method: rest, ice, compression, and elevation. In the days ahead, remember RICE for your emotional restoration, too.  It goes like this:

Rest. It’s okay to rest rather than rush. Take a break from the routine. Do things differently, allow yourself to say “no” to others’ expectations, and be compassionate to yourself.

Ice. Chillax a little, would you? When someone who has been so important to us changes and steps away, our world tilts. Give yourself a break. Put all the puzzling and worry on ice. As I say in Done With The Crying, shelve the estrangement focus for a time. (You can always pick it back up later.)

Compression. If you have dear ones near, be sure to hug. Hugging releases feel-good chemical, oxytocin, which stimulates emotional connection  and can reduce pain and promote better health. Pet snuggles also count. Heck, even hugging a pillow can help. Or give yourself a hug. Wrapping your arms around yourself can elicit fond memories and sensations and memories that trigger the release of the same feel-good body chemicals. Take hugging yourself to the next level of comfort and calm with a “havening” technique like the one shown in this video:

Elevation. Do something uplifting for yourself. In BEYOND Done, I mention the learned ability of babies to self-soothe as they grow, and suggest that readers plan for and get supplies for pastimes they can turn to for a quick pick-me-up as needed. Things like listening to music, taking a nature stroll, or watching and listening to birds. What activities help you to feel better? Get ready now so you’ll have a compiled playlist, walking shoes and a route, or a bird feeder you keep filled for feathered friends.

Take care of yourself

When your adult child breaks your heart, the best way to heal is to take kind care of yourself.  Use the RICE method as outlined above. In time and with care, the setbacks of triggered tender spots will become more manageable, and bring deeper healing.

As always, big hugs to you!

Related reading

Does healing from estrangement mean you’re cold-hearted?

Negatively stereotyping parents of estranged adult children: It hurts

Facts about hugs

Health benefits of hugging