Beyond Alienation

Most people in the alienation community only know me as one of many former alienated kids who have taken on the responsibility of speaking out and helping bring solutions.

Outside of alienation, most people just know me as Andrew, the writer and marketing guy. I won’t say I have some burning passion for marketing or anything like that. To me, it is just a job. Marketing requires the skill of understanding how people think and feel and helping them solve a problem that is causing them pain; without that, you are selling a DVD player to a blind man.

You could say I was trained by the best. Alienators will put you in a place where you grovel and strive to cater to their needs before they are even aware of it. Of course, good marketing doesn’t normally go to this extreme, but I have found that I have an uncanny ability to infer a person's inner workings, thanks to the alienator.

Smalls wins, you could say.

What might surprise you is that marketing and business development strategies are core sources of wisdom for me, especially in the articles I write for the alienation community. While many alienation writers and speakers go straight to academic materials and trauma-psychology definitions, I think that approach loses people because it doesn’t give them anything tangible to act on.

You can know every ice cream flavor of narcissists and still be at a loss, wondering how to deal with one.

The business world is full of practical ideas that you can adapt to your life. And if the idea is worth anything, it will make money and have an impact on the immediate community, not just for the idea's author but for the people/businesses implementing it.

For example, my most popular article, How to Talk With Your Alienated Child When They Don’t Want to Talk to You, draws wisdom from a former FBI hostage negotiator who wrote a book about communication and negotiation tactics for the corporate world.

I am not knocking academics; there is a place for their work, too, but I am not paying $35 to read their dense, convoluted 10-page statistical paper that concludes that alienation exists. I already know that it exists, and I find it vexing that the most popular books in the industry offer little to no solutions. And that same feeling frustrates a lot of parents too.

Parents want actionable advice they can implement now.

This article was inspired by two business books (which have nothing to do with alienation). If you are also an entrepreneur, business owner, corporate manager, or executive, you will find a lot of value in these books, and I highly recommend them.

However, if you are just a parent looking for ways to reunite with your child, save your money; you don’t need the books. This article is more than enough to grasp the core idea: transformation.

I will share the links below in case you are interested in the books, but again, they are not required reading. If you have any questions about the concepts, please ask below, and I will be happy to answer them and provide further explanation.

• The Experience Economy by B. Joseph Pine II and James H. Gilmore

• The Transformation Economy by B. Joseph Pine II

What is a Transformation?

A transformation is an experience or set of experiences that profoundly affects an individual, resulting in a fundamental, permanent change in their identity.

Your identity is the main driver for your behavior, ambitions, and perception of the world. Therefore, a change to your identity fundamentally alters how you perceive reality, what aspirations you carry, and what you focus your time and attention on.

Now let’s tie that into alienation.

Your child will repeatedly experience abusive behaviors that will:

• Shape their perception of themselves and you.

• Force them to adopt submissive behaviors to protect themselves from the alienator.

• Suppress their own needs and emotions to attract less negative attention.

These repeated experiences are reinforced until the child behaves in a manner that aligns with the alienator.

Let’s break it down even further.

Encapsulation

Encapsulation is the framework Pine explains is used to create a transformation in a person. This applies to both negative and positive transformations.

All transformations are born of a series of experiences that are integrated into identity. Before I explain the individual components, I want you to think about something at the identity level for yourself that involves a series of experiences—it could be your faith, professional life, your relationship with someone you love, habits like going to the gym or reading, or something unique to you—and once you have that ready, think about these individual components with respect to your experience in that identity.

Afterwards, I will explain it from the alienated child’s view, and you will have a strong understanding of the framework.

Before the experience, there is preplanning.

Before hiking, you pack your bags for the trip; before a date, you shower, dress up nicely, and pick a nice spot to eat; before an exam, you study and review your study materials.

Pre-planning includes both preparing for the experience and the emotions involved in anticipation. The experience itself may be totally different from what you expect and prepare for. Think of all the times you wanted to go outside and enjoy the fresh air, only to step out and realize it is going to rain soon.

After preplanning comes the experience itself. An experience is measured and valued by one question: How well was my time spent? If you listen to how people talk about attending concerts of their favorite singers or bands, some of them pay ludicrous prices just to hear the music live, yet they still say the time (and money) was well spent. The emotions from the experience trump the cost.

At the end of the experience, there is a reflection. The credits are rolling, and you ask yourself, “Was that a good movie? What did I think about it?” The reflection comes when you have the quiet time to think deeply about what you just experienced.

Now, preplanning and reflection encapsulate the experience, but they are not enough to create a transformation. The transformation comes after there is integration at the identity level. Without it, you have the effect of a temporary transformation before switching back to your original self.

Each experience in isolation may seem insignificant, but when stacked together, they create a compounding effect, changing who you are at the core over time. Given enough time, water turns stone into sand. So too will your experiences shape your behaviors and perspective on life.

So you might already be seeing how this framework can apply to alienated children. This affects them at three different levels.

The Alienator

The first level is the experience curated by the alienator. The alienator wants the child to be unconditionally loyal to them, even at the expense of their relationship with you. In order to achieve that, they stage a series of experiences that lead them to question their ability to determine right from wrong and what is acceptable vs unacceptable.

If you would like to know more about how these experiences are staged, I recommend reading my article, Deconstructing Mind Games, particularly the first section where I talk about the Not My Tempo scene in the movie Whiplash.

After each experience, the child reflects on it and adjusts their behavior. The child is harassed when their behavior goes against the alienator and rewarded when they are compliant.

Over time, the child’s identity has completely changed. Keep in mind, the alienator isn’t degrading the targeted parent 24/7.

In reality, the targeted parents are only mentioned a fraction of the time. The overwhelming amount of harassment the child receives from the alienator is about the child’s behavior. The alienator needs total compliance from the child to feel secure about the child’s loyalty. To attack your credibility, they make it seem to the child that the reason for the punishment is due to the targeted parent.

In preplanning, the alienator has decided that you are not allowed in the child’s life. When the child behaves in a non-compliant way, they attack and harass the child, creating a negative experience. The alienator reflects to see if the child has learned their lesson. If not, they reinforce it repeatedly until the child adopts the new behavior. The child is emotionally and physically exhausted. Compliance is easier and more sustainable than fighting back.

The Targeted Parent

Any time the child interacts with you, whether by text message, phone call, or in-person visitation, you are staging an experience for them.

Now this doesn’t mean you need to behave like a Disneyland parent or an event planner. However, it helps to think about the experience you are creating for the child. The challenge many parents face is that they are so focused on their own experience that they feel they are losing control of everything.

When the child is aggressive or avoidant toward them, they take it as negative criticism of their parenting and as proof of their deepest fear unfolding, triggering their inner insecurities. This leads to a negative experience for both the parent and the child. During reflection, the parent thinks to themself that they are powerless, and in the child’s reflection, the child affirms the accusations about the parent's character that were initially planted by the alienator.

Staging positive experiences is going to be the most important skill for you, the targeted parent. To learn more about this skill, I highly recommend my article, Lighting Paper Lanterns, where you will learn about compounding small positive experiences into larger ones.

Experience doesn’t need to be grandiose or life-changing in a single moment. That kind of thinking puts a lot of pressure on targeted parents, and they will feel crippled with anxiety over sending a text. In my article, “Lighting Paper Lanterns,” I talk about how small yesses can lead to a big yes. A small yes can be as simple as having your child read a text message or have a brief chat about pop culture. Multiple instances of these small experiences give the child time to reflect. That reflection reveals to them that you are not the monster they think you are, and they will start to feel curious.

Keep in mind that age, proximity to the alienator(s), and their ability to care for themselves are major constraints that can limit their ability to reunite with you, so do not assume their silence is an act of malice.

That said, if their curiosity is piqued, they will engage more with you based on the pattern of experiences that you staged for them.

The Alienated Child

The alienated child is facing two opposing sides, and depending on several circumstances like custody agreements, severity of the alienation, the child’s age and sense of autonomy, and the child's personality, they are going to interpret their experiences and behave in a manner that protects their well-being, even at the expense of their identity.

On one hand, the alienator is layering negative experiences and associating them with the targeted parent.

On the other hand, the child is about to visit you after hearing countless horror stories and warnings about your character.

This serves as the child’s preplanning. They are preparing for a battle, steeling themselves for the worst possible outcome. When they are with you, depending on the factors listed above, they will either:

• Relax after seeing that you are not dangerous.

• Suspect that you are pretending to be nice and will try to test you.

Testing behaviors are a classic mind game: Now I Got You Son of a Bitch. (If you have not read my article, Deconstructing Mind Games, you can learn how mind games work and how to beat them.)

What are they testing for? They want to see if the accusations are true. If you get mad or upset, they think the alienator was telling the truth. If you are non-reactive to their digs, they will likely think you are just good at hiding your ulterior motives.

At face value, it seems like nothing works. However, being non-reactive to their tests puts them in a position to confront whether what they have been told is true at all. And that is a scary place for an alienated child. To realize they have accepted and lived a lie means that they took part in the alienation, which brings out a terrible sense of guilt and shame.

These are the unconscious thoughts swirling in their head during the reflection phase. They don’t quite see how others are shaping their perceptions of their experiences, and they assume the conclusions they draw are their own.

As I mentioned earlier, the more the experience you provide is different from the negative time they expected, the more they question their perception. If the child can say after spending time with you that, “This was time well spent,” they are on the road to reunification, even if they don’t know it consciously yet.

And to reiterate. It is not about one big experience but about the repetition of many small experiences.

How You Can Transform Your Alienated Child Back to Their True Self

This is the million-dollar question.

In previous articles, particularly in Finding Love after Alienation Part II, I discussed the need for a good blend of mundane and extraordinary experiences to give the child a sense of normalcy when they spend time with you.

I am not going to repeat those here, but I am going to share a few other tools to help you shape the experience you create for your child when they interact with you. These techniques apply to all severity levels of alienation—you just have to tailor them to your level of communication.

The Pygmalion and Galatea Effect

There is a famous Greek story about the sculptor, Pygmalion (pig-mal-eon).

Pygmalion, devoted to his craft, sculpted his idea of the perfect woman out of stone, naming her Galatea (gal-a-tee-ah). The Goddess of Love, Aphrodite, seeing his devotion to the sculpture, transformed the marble statue into a woman who would marry Pygmalion, and they lived happily ever after.

The Pygmalion effect (also known as the Rosenthal effect) is a psychological phenomenon where higher expectations lead to improved performance in a given area.

The original study was conducted in a classroom setting. Teachers were told that certain students had been identified as “late bloomers” and were expected to perform exceptionally well over the coming year. In reality, those students were selected completely at random. Yet by the end of the year, those students showed significantly greater intellectual gains than their peers.

The teachers never explicitly told the students they were special. But their belief in those children changed how they interacted with them. The teachers were warmer and more patient, offered more challenging material, and provided more feedback to those kids. The children absorbed all of it without realizing it. And they rose to meet the expectations placed on them.

Now think about what this means for you as a targeted parent.

When you tell your child (even an alienated one who is cold, distant, or hostile), “You are kind. You are capable. You are loving. You have always been that way, and nothing will change that for me.”

That is planting a seed of truth. It may not take root immediately. They may roll their eyes or argue with you. But internally, it is much harder to say I am not a loving, kind, smart, strong, and capable person.

Trust is not required for the Pygmalion effect to work.

The mechanism operates below the level of conscious agreement. The child doesn’t have to believe you or like you. They don’t even have to be in the same room with you for very long. What matters is your consistency in communicating to them who they are at their core.

Over time, that becomes part of how they filter their worldview.

If they ever push back and say something self-degrading—I’m not a good person. I don’t care about you. I don’t feel anything—don’t panic, and don’t accept it as their truth.

Simply ask them, with genuine curiosity and no anger behind it: Is that really what you think of yourself?

That question creates a small crack of space between the child and the belief they just stated. Even if they double down, you can step back and ask, “Is that who you want to be?”

If they double down again and say yes, then ask follow-up questions like, “How come?”

Curiosity is the name of the game. No one can logically argue that they want to be a bad or incapable person. Attempting to do so is a clear cry for help, which is where you can step in with love and emotional support.

Worst case scenario, you can end the conversation by saying, “I understand you feel you are not a good person, but I disagree. I have seen the good in you, and I hope in time you can see it too.”

If they reach a point where they are telling you that they want to be a good person, then you can pivot to talking about how you see them as good, kind, capable, smart, funny, and deserving of love.

Now, if the Pygmalion effect is about how others’ expectations shape us, the Galatea effect is how our own self-perception drives our behavior.

Galatea, the statue brought to life, didn’t need anyone to tell her how to be a woman. Once she was transformed, she simply was one. We act in alignment with how we perceive ourselves, often unconsciously, as if fulfilling an unspoken contract with our own identity.

This is why the work of reshaping your child’s self-perception matters so deeply. If they believe—because the alienator has drilled it into them—that they are someone who doesn’t need you, who doesn’t love you, who is better off without you, they will behave in ways that confirm that belief.

When you consistently reflect back to a child that they are loving, that they are kind, that they are someone who cares deeply, even when it is hard to show it, you are slowly rewriting that narrative. And over time, they begin to act from that new self-perception instead.

The inverse is also true, and I watched it play out painfully with a childhood friend.

He had struggled with drug abuse for years, and there were periods where he was genuinely trying to get clean. He was putting in the work, but the people around him kept calling him a drug addict. They would say things like, “You’re an addict. That’s just what you are. You’ll never really change. I bet you were doing drugs earlier.”

What I watched happen over time was pretty sad. He eventually stopped fighting it, and he relapsed. I think he reached a point where he gave up trying to prove them wrong and instead gave them proof that they were right. It was almost like a punishment. He told me one night how, after relapsing, he told his workmates, “Fine. You think I am an addict? Well, maybe I am. Are you happy now?”

This is both the Pygmalion and Galatea effect working negatively. He internalized their perception of him until it became his own, and then he sabotaged himself to prove that perception was true.

This is why I want you to be careful about what you say to your child in moments of anger or frustration.

I understand those moments. The alienation process is designed to provoke you. The testing behaviors, the cruelty, the indifference are a lot of pressure, and the goal, whether the child knows it consciously or not, is to get you to lose control. To say something in anger that confirms every accusation the alienator ever made about you.

But beyond what it does to you in those moments, consider what it does to them.

When you say something in frustration—even once, even if you apologize immediately after—you are contributing to the narrative they are already carrying about themselves. Children in alienation situations are already carrying enormous amounts of shame and confusion about their own identity. Words spoken in anger by the parent they still, somewhere deep down, love and need…those words stick.

Tell your child they are smart, kind, creative, loving, wise, and many other good things, until they believe it.

And for bonus points, tell yourself those same things, too.

Memorialize the Good Times

This is a powerful tip I found in Richard Warshak’s book, Divorce Poison.

When your child is interacting with you, especially if they are spending time with you in person, you want to memorialize the good times.

That means get down on their level and tell them:

“You are a smart kid, and I know you don't forget things easily, right?

Did you have fun today? Yeah, me too.

I want you to know that no matter what happens between me and your mom/dad, that has nothing to do with how much I love you and that never changes.

I know it can feel like a lot sometimes. But look at today. We still figured out how to have fun together.

You're smart, and you have a good memory, right? You probably will remember every detail. So hold onto this memory of today. When things feel confusing or hard, come back to this moment. Remember all the fun moments and I'm always going to be here, and I'm always going to love you.”

What you are doing here is creating an anchor in your child’s mind.

Think back to the encapsulation framework. Every experience has a reflection phase, during which the mind processes what just happened and decides what it means. Most of the time, that reflection happens without you. Your child goes home, and whatever they experienced with you gets filtered through the alienator’s environment, commentary, and version of events.

Memorializing is your way of entering that reflective phase before your child walks out the door.

You are not manipulating them or coaching them on what to think. You are simply drawing their attention to the reality of what just happened between you. You are asking them to hold onto it, to store it somewhere the alienator cannot easily reach.

And children, even deeply alienated ones, have long memories for moments when they felt genuinely loved.

There is something else happening here, too, and it connects directly back to the Pygmalion and Galatea effects. When you say you are a smart kid with a good memory, you are affirming an identity and a sense of responsibility. Smart kids with good memories remember things accurately. They don’t let other people rewrite their experiences.

You are telling them that you trust them to remember the truth.

This only works if it is genuine. Children, especially alienated children, have learned to detect hidden motives, have extraordinary radar for performative speeches, and if this feels like a script, they will sense it. Use the script above as a guide, but change it to fit your situation. Let the spirit of it come through in your own voice.

It also does not need to happen every single visit. In fact, if it happens too often or too mechanically, it will start to feel rehearsed. The most powerful moments are the ones that arise naturally. Something like after you both laugh together at something, that is when you lean in, meet them where they are, and say, “Remember this moment.”

You are building a library of moments that belong to the two of you, that no one can take away.

What Do You Think?

At some point, your child is going to get angry and question you. They might parrot something the alienator said about you and demand answers. As mentioned before, this is a test to see how you respond. A child does not have the capacity to understand why affairs happen, how money can restrict you, or how adults may act imperfectly or even irrationally when pushed over the edge.

There will be times when you may have genuinely made a mistake, and there will be moments when you are accused of doing something heinous that is completely untrue.

Note: I want to make it clear that while I don’t condone affairs, drug abuse, gambling, addictions, alcoholism, and willful neglect of personal responsibilities, I do believe in redemption. If you are committed to transforming your child, you will need to start with the transformation of the self first.

Part of the preplanning an alienator engages in is reminding the child about these accusations. The child is hit with them all at once, and it paints you as this predatory figure who is manipulative and insidious.

The child will ask you, “What about [insert accusation]?”

The natural inclination is known as JADE—Justify, Argue, Defend, Explain. None of those work and they exacerbate the situation.

Instead, calmly pause and ask your child, “What do you think?”

That one question does more work than a ten-minute explanation ever could.

Here is why. The alienator has spent considerable time telling your child what to think. Every accusation, threat, and poisoned story has been handed to the child pre-packaged, with no room for their own reasoning. The child has been a receiver of information, not a participant in it. To the alienator, they are not allowed to have an opinion.

When you ask, “What do you think?” you are treating them like someone whose opinion matters. You are communicating that you are not afraid of the question and, most importantly, you are handing the thinking back to them, which is exactly where it belongs.

Watch what happens in that pause after you ask it. If they are quiet or thinking, do not rush to break the silence. There is great power in sitting comfortably in silence.

The child expected a reaction. They were braced for defensiveness, or anger, or a flood of counter-evidence. What they get instead is a question that puts them in the position of examining what they believe, rather than what they were told to believe. For many alienated children, that is a genuinely novel experience.

Some will double down. They will repeat the accusation louder or insist they already told you what they think. Some will try to deflect by saying you are not answering their question. That is fine. You can follow it with something equally simple, like, “That’s what you were told. But what do you actually think, from everything you’ve seen with your own eyes?”

Avoid saying this as a challenge to their view of the alienator. Just calmly invite them to use their own judgement.

Some will go quiet, which is the sound of genuine reflection. Again, do not rush to fill it and let it sit. You can communicate so much with silence.

Some alienated children will surprise you entirely and actually share what they think. Others may try to BS their way through it. They may express doubt, or confusion, or even defend you. If that happens, resist the urge to leap on it as a victory. Receive it stoically and affirm it by saying, “I appreciate you sharing that. That means a lot to me.”

Now, what about the accusations that are true or partially true?

This is where many targeted parents stumble, because their instinct is to either over-explain due to their feelings of guilt, or to minimize the mistake as a means of self-protection. Neither option serves the child.

If the accusation carries truth in it, the most disarming thing you can do is acknowledge it plainly, without theatrics. “You know what—there’s some truth to that. I did make mistakes. I’m not proud of it, and I understand if that hurt you.”

That’s it. You own it and let it go right there. No pivoting immediately to what the other parent did wrong.

This does something the alienator cannot easily counter. The alienator’s power comes partly from framing you as someone who will never take responsibility. A simple, dignified admission of fault dismantles that framing without a single argument. It also models for the child something they desperately need to see… that an adult can own their mistakes and still be a person of integrity.

And for the accusations that are simply untrue, you do not have to accept them either. But instead of explaining or justifying, just say, “That’s not what happened. And I think somewhere, you already know that.”

Then let it rest.

You are not going to win a courtroom argument with a child in the middle of an alienation situation. But you can leave them with a calm sense of certainty that pushes them to reflect on their experiences with you. Over time, and after a great deal of reflection, the child will start to be curious about you and believe what you are telling them.

Concluding Thoughts

Before I sign off, I want to address a few concerns I have heard from parents:

• “Isn’t this being manipulative?”

• “I am not a therapist, and I don’t think it is good to use therapy speak with my kids.”

• “What’s the point? My kids won’t even talk to me. None of this works if they don’t talk to me.”

All of these are valid concerns, so I want to address them fairly.

Firstly, manipulation involves benefiting from another person's expense. It is not manipulative to teach your child to brush their teeth, eat healthy foods, or go to bed at an appropriate time. Emotional intelligence is a skill that offers many benefits for your child. Telling your child they are intelligent, kind, and loving is not manipulative (this is based on the presumption that you are not lying.) As a parent, your role is to cultivate in your child good values and the strength to take on life’s challenges with anti-fragility. There is nothing manipulative in that. Alienation makes it easy to lose your identity as a parent, so you need to step fully back into your role to reunite.

Secondly, everything I share falls under relationship and communication skills. I do not pretend to know therapy, and I draw many of my insights from proven models used in the business world. This is where you see the most application with minimal restrictions. If it works, why not add that tool to your toolbox? Considering the nefarious means an alienator uses to control your child, you need everything you can find at your disposal.

Even if you were to see a therapist, one of their core goals would be to help you cultivate skills in empathy, relational and self-awareness, communication, and active listening so that you can implement them in your relationships.

Procrastination in this endeavor does you no favors. And even if they do not immediately reunite you with your child, you are opening doors in your life that would not have been possible before.

If the fear of it not working scares you to the point of not trying, then that is a sign that you need to transform yourself first before trying to reunite. You are not a fixed point in time. Anyone can become anything if they truly want it and believe they are capable.

For example, one of my personal heroines would be Betty Ann Waters.

Betty Anne and her brother Kenneth were about as close as siblings could be growing up. However, things took a turn for the worse when her brother was wrongfully convicted of the murder of the elderly woman who lived next door.

Kenneth’s mental health declined in prison, and he attempted suicide. Betty Anne was terrified of losing her brother, and she knew that he was innocent. At that time, she had done everything in her power to obtain legal support to appeal the conviction, but nothing worked, and they did not have the money to hire new lawyers.

Kenneth tells his sister, “If there was anyone who could get me out, you could do it.”

At the time, Betty Anne was a waitress, but she decided she would do whatever it took, no matter how long it required, to get her brother out of prison. Kenneth promised he would never attempt suicide again, knowing that his sister was going to study to become his lawyer.

She went to college and graduated, then she went to law school. After passing the bar exam and becoming a lawyer, Betty Anne located the blood evidence and partnered with the Innocence Project to build a case to exonerate her brother.

After 17 years of wrongful imprisonment, Kenneth Waters was a free man.

Like Betty Anne, you might find yourself in a place where you say that you are not qualified or capable of reaching your kids.

And the hard truth is that your gut instinct is probably right.

But that is good. Because now you can start asking yourself the big questions…

1. Who do I have to become to reconnect with my kids?

2. What would the best version of their parent look like?

3. And how can I be that version of the best possible parent right now?

This article explained how you can transform your alienated child, and, for brevity, I didn’t discuss the transformation of the self. That is just as important, and I strongly encourage you to answer those three questions above for yourself.

Now you have the tools to stage experiences for your child and help transform them. You can also start transforming yourself into the best possible version of yourself.

The only thing left to do is start now.

The power to shape your child’s experiences is in your hands.

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

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As always, I deeply appreciate your support and am grateful for your feedback as I develop these articles. 

Liked this article? Here are other articles you may be interested in:

1. Seeing through the Eyes of the Alienated Child

2. Finding Love after Alienation Part II

3. Lighting Paper Lanterns

4. The Bittersweetness of the Holidays

5. Escaping the Prison of the Mind

Whiplash

One of the best depictions of psychological abuse I have found in recent media shows up in the film Whiplash, starring J.K. Simmons and Miles Teller.

The film is about an abusive and volatile Jazz instructor named Terrence Fletcher (J.K. Simmons) who takes on a new drummer, Andrew Neiman (Miles Teller). Neiman quickly learns that to succeed in Fletcher’s band, he must perform at a high caliber. However, Fletcher does more than just set a standard of excellence. He plays mind games with the band, leaving them always doubting their ability, so they will grovel at his feet and go to extreme lengths for his approval. Essentially, Neiman, as the new band member, is being trained to attach his sense of self-worth to Fletcher’s evaluation of Neiman’s performance.

If you haven’t seen the movie, I highly recommend it. Below is a clip of one of the film's most iconic scenes, in which Neiman learns what it really means to be in Fletcher’s band.

In less than 5 minutes, you have seen examples of:

• Gaslighting (Trained musicians have pointed out that the tempo was fine at first until Fletcher singles him out and makes him doubt his performance. And as someone who was in concert band for 7 years, you cannot adequately experience tempo in 2 seconds. This was a mind game.)

• Building someone up to tear them down. (We got Buddy Rich (a famous Jazz drummer) over here.)

• Physical violence to establish authority and power. (Invasion of personal space, throwing the chair, and slapping)

• Public humiliation. (Insults in front of the band, yelling in his face, forcing him to say I’m upset in front of everyone)

• Punitive modeling (singling out one person to keep the group in check. Notice no one stood up to Fletcher when he threw the chair or slapped him. Everyone was looking away or straight.)

• Twisting emotions to fit a specific narrative (Are you upset? No? Because you don’t give a shit about this? Say you’re upset. Say it so the whole band can hear it.)

• Deliberate attacks on Neiman’s sense of competency. (Count me a 215 beat. Can you even read music?)

• Unpredictability (quiet to suddenly yelling, throwing the chair, and slapping, constantly changing the starting point for the music)

Now, alienation and abuse operate on a spectrum, so I cannot say for certain that every child will or has experienced this level of harm. Still, I can say that in my own life, I have experienced moments like these at least three to six times each month while living with my alienator. They have happened so many times that I don’t remember 95% of them because they felt mundane. The ones I do remember are fragments of the worst ones.

There was no way to predict when these outbursts would happen, nor what they would be about.

I remember as a child (around 7 - 8 years old), I was being scolded for something trivial about school, and my stepmother (the alienator) suddenly changed topics and asked me, “What is your name?”

I replied, “Andrew.”

She slapped me across the face before yelling louder, “What is your name!?”

I choked out again, “Andrew.”

Smack.

She moved up close so that her nose was almost touching mine before growling, “If someone asks you your name, you say ‘my name is…’”

“What is your name?”

“My name is Andrew?”

Smack.

“Are you a mouse? Say it louder so I can hear you! WHAT IS YOUR NAME!?”

My name is Andrew.

There was no lesson in what she was saying. No hidden wisdom or revelation to be had after pondering over it. The randomness of that moment had nothing to do with my character or whatever trivial school matter I was in trouble for. It was purely for the act of destabilizing me as a child so that I would be afraid of what she might do next. She wasn’t teaching me etiquette.

Even if you removed the physical violence from my story or Whiplash, these power games would still be highly effective. Most of the time, this involves behaviors like grandiosity, overstepping boundaries, shaming, and degradation.

Games People Play

In game theory, you have two or more players who are making decisions to maximize their own outcomes, knowing that the results depend not only on their own choices but also on the choices of others. So each person must think ahead, anticipate how others might act, and adjust their strategy accordingly. Much like a chess game or a negotiation, you don’t just plan your next move. You plan the next 5 to 10 moves based on what the other player might do. Every move changes the situation for everyone involved.

In Eric Berne’s book, Games People Play, he takes this logic beyond economics and politics (which is where you often see game theory applied) and into everyday life, arguing that many of our conflicts, relationships, and repeated frustrations aren’t random or accidental, but follow predictable psychological ‘games’ that people unconsciously play to get attention, control, validation, or a sense of safety.

You might think, “Why play mind games when a person can get love, affection, and countless other benefits just by being genuine, kind, and empathetic?”

And that is where most people are mistaken.

The premise of the question assumes that an abusive person is seeking love and community, when in fact, they are looking for something different altogether.

I will explain this further shortly.

We can all speculate why love and community were never the goal of an abusive person… perhaps they don’t understand the concept of love, past traumas have led them to develop mental illnesses or pathogenic disorders, or they learned at an early age that relationships are places of leverage.

What matters more than why they arrived there is what they are actually optimizing for. An abusive person is not playing the same game as someone seeking connection. They are playing for control, emotional regulation, identity reinforcement, or psychological survival. Where a healthy person is trying to build something with another human being, an abusive person is trying to extract something from them.

This is why turning the other cheek doesn’t work as a counter-strategy with abusive people.

Kindness, transparency, and empathy are practical tools only when both people are engaged in reciprocity. In a psychological game, those traits become exploitable to an abusive person. For example, vulnerability becomes information that can be used against you later, and forgiveness is perceived as permission to keep crossing boundaries.

Seen through this lens, abusive behavior stops looking irrational or self-defeating. It is internally coherent to the abuser. The behavior reliably produces the payoff or reward that the abuser is seeking—namely, attention, dominance, emotional discharge, reassurance of power, or relief from their inner chaos. The cost (damaged relationships, erosion of trust, even isolation) is acceptable because chances are, connection and love were never the objective in the first place.

The confusion actually lies in the person seeking love, kindness, and affection. They are the ones completely bewildered, asking themselves, “Why do they keep doing this?”

It boils down to trust and expectations. Most people trust others because they hope the other person will act in alignment with their own values. They only stop trusting someone after the other person crosses an arbitrary threshold for breaking their trust. Since this is a subjective benchmark, we often see people repeatedly entering a cycle of being with someone who takes advantage of them, only to defend that person to justify staying with them.

When it comes to trust, I have a personal maxim I stand by:

If necessary, a person will sacrifice their identity to ensure their physical safety. You see this with alienated kids and abuse victims in general. For the abuser, their identity is rooted in the ecstasy that comes from feeling powerful, in control, and being the center of attention. And you can always trust they will behave in ways that feed that excitement.

And I do not say that lightly. There are times when people misbehave because they are tired, hungry, lonely, or emotionally distraught, and that is normal. We all have had those moments. And we have the capacity to do better next time. There are times when our own habits and fears get in the way of our growth. Sometimes, it takes a while for a person to grow and shed bad habits. That is part of being human.

But if there is a consistent pattern of behavior, a refusal to take accountability for those actions, and an absence of a desire to grow, then the behavior is rooted in their identity. Can a hurtful person change their identity? Yes, it happens all the time, but it's not your job to transform them.

You can only trust a person to act in accordance with their nature, and if their nature is to behave in a hurtful way, you need to act accordingly.

I remember a short (fictional) story about a hiker who was trekking along a trail when a snake suddenly lunged from its hiding spot and bit the hiker in the leg. Then, the snake slithers away. The hiker, upset that he was bitten, goes deeper into the woods trying to find the snake so he could ask it why it bit him. Unfortunately, the venom spreads throughout his body, and he dies while searching for the snake.

A snake will bite you because that is what snakes do when they are afraid. An abusive person will abuse you because they are getting exactly what they want out of you. To ask them why is the same as walking into the woods with snake venom in your leg.

I won’t say that Berne’s book, Games People Play, is a must-read, as it is pretty technical to the point where I have to read and process it slowly. That said, if you like reading about psychology, it can be enlightening.

What I will do here is take three psychological games from the book and share them below. If this article is helpful, let me know in the comments, and I can write a Part II article featuring other games worth knowing about.

Note: The author is quite cheeky with the names of his games. They will be represented as they are seen in the book.

Alcoholic

Alcoholic isn’t always about drinking, but it helps frame the game really well.

In the game Alcoholic, there is a recurring cycle where an emotional crisis takes place again and again. The alcoholic says, I will be better next time, only for them to relapse again and instigate another cycle. In the context of this game, the alcoholic is not trying to get better because the emotional drama feeds into their desires for getting attention, experiencing the emotional intensity, attaining a sense of power, or relief from inner tension.

Here is a play-by-play description of the game so you can see what I mean.

There are 5 roles in the game:

1. The Alcoholic: The person who instigates the conflict or crisis.

2. The Persecutor: This is the person who punishes/scolds the alcoholic for relapsing.

3. The Rescuer: This is the person who sweeps in to comfort and encourage the alcoholic. This person often offers advice, words of hope and optimism, and sometimes protection from the persecutor.

4. The Patsy: This person is the enabler. Using alcohol as an example, this is the friend who says, “Come on, it’s just one beer.”

5. The Connexion: This person represents the direct connection to the source of the conflict—whether it is alcohol, drugs, or emotional attention.

You don’t always need five people. You can have multiple people play one role or one person play multiple roles.

The Alcoholic begins by doing something that initiates conflict. With the alcohol example, it would be the breaking of their sobriety. This is the setup for the game, but it is not actually the start. The start of the game is the reaction that follows afterward.

The game starts with the people around the Alcoholic, reacting to the break of sobriety.

The Persecutor argues and yells that the Alcoholic is destroying their life. The Rescuer comforts the Alcoholic, saying mistakes happen, and tells the Persecutor to back off. The Patsy may enable the behavior by offering money, helping the Alcoholic by covering up with a lie, or providing access to whatever fuels the crisis (like more alcohol), often under the guise of compassion or understanding. The Connexion provides the actual means, like a liquor store or a bar. Each role believes they are responding appropriately, but together they form a self-reinforcing system.

As the conflict unfolds, the focus shifts away from the original action and onto the emotional reactions surrounding it. Arguments intensify among the different roles, and emotions reach an all-time high. Everyone becomes preoccupied with managing the situation.

And the Alcoholic is now the center of attention.

Eventually, the crisis peaks and begins to burn itself out. This is when the Alcoholic enters what Berne called the “morning after.” They express guilt, shame, regret, or self-loathing. They may talk about how awful they feel, how disappointed they are in themselves, or how they “hate being like this.” This moment often takes the form of insight or remorse, but it also delivers the emotional payoff the game is built around, which is getting attention, manipulating people’s emotions, and getting emotional relief.

The thing is that sobriety was never the goal. Consciously, the alcoholic might wish for it, but subliminally, they are addicted to the emotional conflict. Seeing other people argue over the alcoholic, chastise each other (or the alcoholic), and offer comfort gives the alcoholic a sense of control over others and their emotions. It also validates their sense of importance because everyone is showering the alcoholic with some form of attention.

The game does not end because there will be a temporary moment of sobriety before the alcoholic relapses, and then the game restarts with compounding intensity.

Not every situation involving alcohol may play out like this, but this is the game's framing. For example, you see this same game play out in affairs. The alcoholic is the cheater, and they have an affair. The partner finds out, playing the role of the prosecutor, and says we will never get back together. The cheater says that after some time, they realized the truth was their original partner had always been there for them, and they feel terribly sorry for hurting them. They grovel until their partner switches to the role of patsy/enabler and takes them back. After a brief pause from the drama, the cheater has another affair. Shocker.

In alienation, you may see a variation of this game play out without alcohol at all.

Instead of a bottle, the trigger might be a variety of things, including but not limited to:

• An emotional outburst

• A false accusation

• A claim that the child is unsafe, traumatized, or being harmed

• Refusal of allowing visitation.

• Demanding child support or alimony

• Taking you back to court

The structure is the same. A destabilizing event is introduced, and the people around it react in predictable ways.

The alienator takes on the role of the Alcoholic and they initiate the crisis. Just like breaking sobriety, the action itself is only the spark.

The game starts when the surrounding system responds.

The targeted parent becomes the Persecutor, who is framed as attacking the alienator, even though their accusations might be justified.

At the same time, there is another layer to this role that is easy to miss. In many alienation cases, the targeted parent is not only cast in the role of the Persecutor, but also functions as a primary Connexion. Their emotional reactions, attempts to reason, legal pushback, and visible distress become part of the fuel that keeps the game alive. Even while being attacked, the targeted parent’s engagement supplies attention, intensity, and meaning to the alienator. Simply put, your emotional distress is akin to alcohol for the alienator. This is what is commonly referred to as “negative narcissistic supply.”

Another person close to the alienator becomes the Rescuer, rushing in to “protect” the child or comfort the alienator. They tell you, the prosecutor, to back off and call you the source of the problem.

Others (school staff, friends, family, etc.) take on the role of Patsy, believing the alienator’s story and offering sympathy, resources, or unquestioning support. Positive narcissistic supply.

Other Connexions (police officers, lawyers, therapists, etc) will legitimize the crisis and raise the stakes, usually providing more attention, authority, validation, legal pressure, or a receptive audience.

As the conflict reaches its peak, the focus is less about the alienator’s actions and more about your reaction. The entire structure of the game is designed to provoke you into defending yourself, explaining, pleading, or exploding. Once that happens, the alienator no longer needs to justify anything. The negative spotlight has moved to you.

This is why alienation conflicts so often feel upside down. The person who initiated the crisis fades into the background, while the targeted parent is scrutinized for tone, emotional regulation, and response. The original behavior becomes secondary to how “reasonably” or “calmly” the targeted parent reacts under pressure.

From the alienator’s perspective, this is a success.

They are not simply trying to “win” an argument or do what is best for the kid. They regulate their internal state by controlling others' emotional states. When people argue, panic, rush in to rescue, or accuse, the alienator experiences a sense of stability and familiarity.

Chaos on the outside helps them forget the chaos on the inside, and that is why the conflict keeps repeating.

As a parent, you may see yourself playing other roles in this game in the past with the alienator. Maybe at one point, you played the Patsy or the Rescuer when they instigated drama.

Alcoholic is a complex game, but once you see the pattern behind it, you will see it in the alienator’s behavior everywhere.

See What You Made Me Do

See What You Made Me Do is a much simpler game than Alcoholic, but it is just as destructive.

Unlike Alcoholic, which relies on a recurring emotional crisis, See What You Made Me Do revolves around blame displacement.

See What You Made Me Do has a trigger event and is followed by a disproportionate action.

Then the person says something to the effect of, “Look what you did…”

At first glance, this can appear to be anger, stress, or poor emotional regulation. But when it happens repeatedly, it becomes clear that this is not about losing control. It is about avoiding accountability while still retaining the right to harm, punish, or intimidate another person. In this game, the abusive action is framed as a reaction rather than a choice.

There are fewer roles in this game, and they are easier to spot.

There is the Actor, the person who commits the harmful behavior, and there is the Trigger, the person(s) who is blamed for “causing” it.

A classic example is a person says, “Do not disturb me when I am working in my office.”

Later, another person opens the office door, disregarding this warning, and interrupts them. The person in the office jumps up, startled, spilling their coffee on their computer.

See What You Made Me Do!

Now accidents are bound to happen, and it is possible to be genuinely startled and make a mess. But sometimes the subconscious takes over, leading to an overreaction, allowing the person to justify their actions by blaming the person who triggered the game. Consciously, they did not intend to spill their coffee, but they did anyway so that they could have a situational reason to justify their outrage.

What keeps this game alive is not just the avoidance of blame, but the preservation of moral innocence, in which the person causing harm feels justified, righteous, or even virtuous while framing their actions as reactions.

Over time, this game teaches that responsibility does not belong to the person who acts, but to the person who supposedly “caused” the action, a belief that is especially damaging when absorbed by children.

In extreme examples, this can look like the typical domestic violence story where the victim says something that triggers the game. The abuser hits the victim and says, “I had to hurt you because you were being bad.”

I distinctly remember reading a handwritten letter from my stepmother (the alienator) a day after receiving a beating, where it started off with, “Andrew, I love you to pieces, but when you misbehave like this, I have to punish you. And it hurts Mommy so much.”

On another occasion, my alienator was going through chemotherapy as a result of breast cancer, where she said to me, “Andrew, I spoke to one of your teachers who said you were not behaving in class. When you act like this, it makes Mommy’s cancer worse.”

If you watched the video from Whiplash, you would see two instances of See What You Made Me Do.

• The chair was thrown when Fletcher wasn’t happy with the tempo.

• Since Neiman couldn’t tell if he was rushing or dragging, Fletcher asked him to count to 4 to show, and then slapped him just before the 4th beat.

See What You Made Me Do can happen very quickly and often can serve as a trigger for other games.

For example, an alienator could see that you have a new romantic partner and feel angry and jealous. They tell everyone that your partner would be dangerous for your child. The alienator warns your child that your partner is a drug addict and then withholds visitation. This kicks off See What You Made Me Do.

When you confront the alienator, you tell them that they need to stop violating the court order and keeping your child away from you, or else there will be consequences. You defend your romantic partner’s reputation and try to explain that they are not dangerous to your child. Other people hear about the confrontation and rush in to support the alienator. Now you are in the game Alcoholic.

Now I Got You Son of a Bitch

Now I Got You, Son of a Bitch is a game in which a person waits for someone else to make a mistake so they can finally unleash anger, punishment, or moral outrage with full justification. It is similar to "See What You Made Me Do," but instead of someone else being the trigger for an event, a trap is intentionally set for that person to walk into.

The core move of this game is not the wrongdoing itself, but the moment of catching them in the act. The player is not primarily interested in resolving the issue, correcting the behavior, or restoring trust. They are interested in the emotional payoff of catching someone in the wrong and punishing them for it.

There are only two main roles in this game.

There is the Captor, the person who has been waiting for the slip, and there is the Captured, the person who made the mistake and is now at the captor’s mercy. Sometimes the captor might lay a trap. They might ask the other party to make a promise they cannot keep or set a standard so high that the other person is bound to fail to meet it.

Once the mistake happens, the Captor moves in for the kill.

It is like leaving the cookie jar open and telling your kid, “Don’t touch the cookies,” and then waiting behind the corner for them to stick their hands in the cookie jar.

Or imagine your boss walks to your desk at 4:30 PM and says, “Hey, I need you to create a report for tomorrow’s meeting at 9.” The work day ends in 30 minutes, and this report will take you 4-6 hours to do. An abuse victim will likely stay up all night getting it done, but let’s say the report has some mistakes in it.

Now I Got You, Son of a Bitch!

They tell you how your behavior is wrong and may go into extreme detail about how harmful your behavior is to them.

The Captured is confused by the disproportionate level of criticism and chastising. They may engage in JADE (Justify, Argue, Defend, Explain), but they only end up playing into the game. The whole point was for the Captor to justify their outburst. Resolving the mistake was never the point. It is also not about setting a high standard.

What makes this game particularly destructive is that it feels righteous. The Captor can point to evidence and frame their reaction as reasonable and restrained, even though they could have been angrier.

Internally, the payoff is immense. The Captor experiences a sense of moral superiority, release of long-held resentment, and confirmation of a deeply held belief that people cannot be trusted.

The mistake doesn’t have to be legitimate. As long as it looks like a grievance was committed, that is enough. In the office example, if your boss was looking for a reason to fire you, then they basically fabricated a scenario to justify it on paper.

In Whiplash, the tempo was the trigger event for Fletcher to attack Neiman disproportionately. Whether or not the tempo was off was never the point of the exchange. Fletcher is not interested in the perfection of the music at that moment. The entire scene demonstrates that Fletcher sought to establish clear power dynamics within Neiman and reinforce his authority over the rest of the band through loud displays of anger and intimidation. The band has to be willing to grovel to Fletcher so that he can drive them to perform well on stage. In doing so, he gets all the credit.

In alienation, Now I Got You, Son of a Bitch often shows up as a constant surveillance of the targeted parent. The alienator, sometimes with the child’s help, waits for a moment that can be interpreted as proof of wrongdoing. When it happens, the response is immediate and disproportionate, with you facing accusations, outrage, punishment, or the withdrawal of access to your child. The original issue may be trivial or ambiguous, but once it can be labeled a “mistake,” it becomes an excuse to unleash long-held resentment.

What makes this game especially effective at alienating the child is that it recruits the child into the role of the Captor. Children learn that safety, approval, or alignment comes from noticing and reporting the targeted parent’s “mistakes.” Over time, they may become hypervigilant, interpreting neutral behavior as dangerous or wrong. When the child confronts the targeted parent—sometimes repeating adult language or legal accusations—the dynamic feels shocking and surreal. The targeted parent is left confused, apologizing for things they never intended or didn’t actually do, while the alienator frames the entire exchange as evidence of concern, protection, or moral responsibility.

Just like in Whiplash, the alleged wrongdoing is never the point. The point is to establish dominance, reinforce authority, and confirm the belief that the targeted parent is fundamentally untrustworthy.

Winning Unwinnable Games

The worst part about all these games is that you cannot win. There is no way you can logically argue the facts, explain your side, justify your innocence, or defend your position. And apologizing only makes it worse.

It always fails because the game was never about the triggering event in the first place. The game follows a strict script that cannot be changed. The whole point of the game is to gain a combination of the following:

• Absolving the alienator of guilt, shame, or blame.

• Receiving comfort, support, and affection from others.

• Maintaining a sense of moral superiority

• Regulating inner chaos by controlling external emotions.

• Reinforcing an identity such as victim, protector, martyr, or authority.

The game follows a specific pattern, and the more you fight it, the bigger the payoff or emotional high they experience.

So many parents find themselves absolutely baffled because they cannot fathom why the alienator behaves the way they do. It was never about love, affection, and building a thriving family. The reason why nothing works with them is that you are trying to fix a problem while they are feeding off of your emotional distress.

And if you don’t see the game they are playing, you unwittingly get baited into a pattern of behaviors that serve their needs.

So, how do you win an unwinnable game?

You don’t play.

Now you might think, “Andrew, I have to do something because my child is with someone who is abusing them.”

If you are:

• Being falsely accused of harming your child,

• Blocked from seeing your child during your own custody time,

• Pulled back into court again and again,

• Reported to CPS, the police, or school staff without cause,

• Financially strained through legal fees, delays, or sudden demands,

• Blamed for your child’s distress while being denied access to them,

• Pressured to respond immediately, emotionally, or publicly,

Then yes, “don’t play the game” can sound insulting or unrealistic.

But again, I am not saying roll over and give up, nor am I saying accept the accusations. I am saying, do not give them the emotional payoff they are looking for. Because that is what the game is all about.

Alienation thrives on panic and reaction. Your emotional responses get twisted, screenshot, repeated, and reframed as evidence that you are unstable, dangerous, or untrustworthy. The more distressed you become, the easier it is for others to believe something must be wrong.

You can still defend yourself in court, stand up for your rights, and focus on reconnecting with your child, while still avoiding the game. The objective of the game is to get an emotional reaction out of you. Deny the alienator that, and you suddenly become less interesting to them.

Instead, you focus your efforts solely on your child and your reunification. In severe alienation cases, you can follow the suggestions I mention in my article, Lighting Paper Lanterns.”

Most importantly, you want to adopt the grey rock strategy with your alienator so that they stop trying to bait you into a psychological game. Become so neutral and boring to them that they do not derive any emotional satisfaction from you. Eventually, they will turn to others to get their high.

Their behavior feels personal because it is related to you and your history together. But the truth is, if it wasn’t you, the alienator would have done this to someone else.

Now that still leaves the child.

A child who grows up surrounded by these games does not simply experience them as isolated incidents. Over time, the games become the child’s map for relationships. They learn that love is conditional, safety depends on pleasing the most volatile person in the room, and that conflict is resolved through emotional coercion rather than communication.

Children raised in these environments often learn to play the games themselves. Some grow into adults who unconsciously reenact them. Others go the opposite direction, repeatedly finding themselves in relationships with people who keep the games going for them, mistaking chaos for intimacy and control for love.

This is why not playing matters so much.

When you refuse to engage in the alienator’s psychological games, you are doing something profoundly important for your child—you are modeling a different way of being. You are showing them that emotional regulation is possible, that boundaries can exist without punishment, and that love does not require submission, panic, or self-betrayal.

Your child may not recognize this immediately. In the short term, they may appear distant, confused, or even aligned with the alienator. That does not mean your efforts are wasted. It means the child is surviving in the only way available to them in that moment.

By staying calm, consistent, and non-reactive, you become a stable reference point. You are the parent who does not escalate. The parent who does not collapse. The parent who does not demand loyalty through fear or guilt. Over time—sometimes much later—this contrast will arouse their curiosity and will serve as a guiding post for them.

Not playing also preserves your capacity to act wisely when real opportunities arise. When you are no longer drained by constant emotional battles, you can think more clearly, document patterns more accurately, and respond strategically rather than reactively. You protect your own mental health so that you can remain present for your child in the ways that actually matter.

That is how you beat an alienator in their own game.

Concluding Thoughts

There are quite a few games in Eric Berne’s book Games People Play, and they are just as prevalent as these three are in alienation. If you found this article helpful and would like to see more, let me know, and I would be happy to write Part II, featuring other common mind games people play.

Keep in mind, it is not just abusive people who play these games. Sometimes, a person might get so frustrated that they feel a game like See What You Made Me Do will get the message across.

No one is perfect, and we all have moments where we fall short of what is responsible behavior. At the same time, we have to recognize when someone is playing a psychological game, especially if they do it repeatedly.

With just these three games, you may already start to see patterns in your own life where someone was playing a game instead of genuinely trying to solve a problem. Perhaps, after some introspection, you might catch yourself playing a role in these games too. I know I have made the mistake of getting caught up in these games. I recently found myself playing the role of prosecutor in someone’s game of Alcholic.

When the dots connected in my head, all I could do was smack my head and say, “Ahhhh, I should have known better…”

All you can do is realize it and step away to protect your time and energy.

Being human is not about being perfect, but choosing to grow, love one another, and stand on our integrity. Spend the time with the people who enrich your life.

One of the best decisions I have ever made in my life was leaving my alienator. Only then did I have the space and freedom to take on challenges and become someone I wanted to be. I didn’t need to get permission or assess how the alienator would take it. That was only possible because I stopped playing into her game.

Playing a psychological game is like playing catch. The abuser throws the baseball at you. You catch it and throw it back. But imagine for a moment, you just don’t catch the ball. Instead, you watch the ball fly past you, and you just walk away. The abuser waits for you to run, retrieve the ball, and throw it back, but you don’t. Now they have to run all the way to get their ball and throw it to someone else. Doesn’t sound very fun for them right?

There is no greater punishment for a toxic person than to have no one to play their psychological games on.

Checkmate.

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

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Liked this article? Here are other articles you may be interested in:

1. Finding Love after Alienation Part I

2. It is Time to Talk About Fight Club

3. How to Talk With Your Alienated Child When They Don’t Want to Talk To You

4. Seeing through the Eyes of the Alienated Child

The Paper Lantern Festival

In Chinese tradition, families would gather paper lanterns for the Lantern Festival (元宵节), to light lanterns in celebration of the Lunar New Year’s first full moon.

Some lanterns are carried upward by a flame and float into the sky, glowing like stars, while others float down rivers.

Often, these families would write their wishes and prayers on the lanterns. Their colors and shapes also carry meaning. Red is the color of fortune and joy. The round shape of the lanterns represents wholeness and unity, and the dragon and flower designs symbolize strength, beauty, and resilience. Once lit and released, the lantern’s path is no longer in human hands. Wind, fire, or the water currents will determine its course.

It is a tradition still practiced today in which countless people express their intentions for the year and then release them to manifest later.

In alienation, most of your outreach to your child will feel like releasing a paper lantern—a small prayer, hoping you will hear back. Most days will feel like you are wasting your breath and your time. In cases where your child is severely alienated, your child has likely gone no contact and blocked you on all communication platforms.

After years of no contact, the child becomes a stranger, and the parent has no idea what to even say to them anymore.

In extreme cases, the child eventually leaves the alienator’s house, gets married, and has their own kids—all while self-enforcing their alienation, as well as alienating the grandkids from you.

Last month, I spoke about the Alienation Trolley Problem and how parents reach a point where they look at all the effort they have put into communicating with their child and see little to no results. In some cases, they might get a response from their child, but it is a venomous threat, saying never to message them again.

When nothing seems to work, parents slowly stop reaching out, afraid of making things worse.

So what can a parent really do when they are severely alienated from their children?

Start With Detective Work

If you are a parent who has been cut off from your child for several years, you will need to gather information first before approaching them.

Why?

Your outreach should not be random or ad hoc. Virtually every parent whose child has gone no-contact has said the same thing to me… “I don’t even know what to say to my kid anymore…”

So you have to put on your journalist and detective hat and gather insights like:

Contact information

You need to look for their address, school contact info, email address, social media handles, phone number, and any other forms of communication.

The goal here is not to corner your child or overwhelm them with messages. What you need right now are options. Without contact information, you will not be able to continue finding out other information about your child.

In many cases, you can find this information without crossing any ethical or legal lines, simply by checking:

• Basic online search.

  
  A search of your child’s full name (and any known nicknames), plus their city or school, may bring up public profiles on social media, personal sites, professional pages, alumni lists, or portfolios.
  

• Social media.
  
  Even if they’ve blocked you personally, you may still be able to see public profiles, posts, or profile photos. If not, ask a family member or close friend to let you search for their name using their account. Your child may have multiple social media handles across platforms, or a single handle across all platforms. Most people do not use their name for privacy reasons, unless they are building a brand (LinkedIn and Facebook would be the exception here).
  
  Keep in mind that different platforms have different privacy settings. For example, Facebook limits search results to either Public, Friends of Friends, or Friends. Platforms such as LinkedIn indicate that your profile has been viewed by another profile, but only LinkedIn Premium subscribers can hide their profiles (not recommended due to the high monthly cost).
  
  If you are unable to find your child’s account, see if you can find an account of a friend or family member who would be connected/following/friends with them. Then look at their friend list. If you are afraid you are blocked, create an alternate account and look again.
  

• Public records.
  
  For adult children, property records, voter registration data, court records (for name changes or marriage), and business registrations are often searchable through county or state websites. These can confirm a current last name, approximate location, and whether they’ve moved. As a parent, you can typically request copies of your child’s birth certificate through the county office where they were born, which can be helpful if you need to verify identity details or navigate other record requests.
  

• School and alumni directories.
  
  For teens or young adults, school websites, team rosters, club pages, or alumni registries may list an email address, city, or updated surname.

As you do this “detective work,” keep two guardrails in place:

1. Stay within what is truly public and legal.
   
   No hacking, no stalking, no pressuring friends, relatives, or co-workers for private information.
   

2. Remember the purpose of the search; you are gathering information to approach them respectfully. Do not be intrusive or stalkerish.
   
   You are not collecting data so that you can show up at their job or doorstep unannounced. You are gathering just enough to understand where they are in life and to identify a respectful, low-pressure way to send a future olive branch. If you find a social media profile and rush to send messages, you risk getting yourself blocked. If you show up unannounced at their house, school, or job, you risk a restraining order.

Be respectful of their space, or they will push you out permanently. In extreme cases this can include them intentionally trying to hide from you, intense arguments, and restraining orders.

Once you have a clearer picture of how to reach them—and where they are in their own life stage—you can begin crafting what to say and how to say it.

Other Information to Gather

If you are able to find social media profiles or other sources of information about your alienated child, make a list in a notebook or digital journal and start gathering data on the following:

Life Stage & Stability

• Are they in school, working, unemployed, caregiving, or parenting?

• Did they recently move? Go to college/university? Graduate? Change jobs? Get married? Have kids?

• Are they in a transition season (puberty, college, divorce, relocation, early parenting, medical challenges, etc)?

Likes, Dislikes, and Identity Markers

Your child is a real person, not a memory locked in time. They may not share the same interests as before the alienation. See if they post about their:

• Hobbies and interests

• Music, books, games, and communities they care about

• Causes they support

• Values they publicly express

• How they describe themselves now

Accomplishments & Growth

Life goes on regardless of alienation, and the child must become an adult. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be proud of their growth, despite all the pain.

Look for:

• Education achievements

• Professional milestones

• Creative projects

• Awards or recognition

• Volunteer or leadership roles

Many of these things may be posted on the school or university website.

Events & Community Participation

Right now, attending events may not be the best strategy, but it helps to know what your child is participating in. Look for:

• Clubs, teams, band or choir performances, speaking events

• Conferences or professional groups

• Community or cultural involvement

Tone of Their Public Voice

Your child’s online voice indicates their emotional state, sense of self,

• Are they humorous? Private? An activist? Guarded? Sentimental?

• Do they post openly or minimally?

• Do they appear nostalgic, angry, hopeful, or cynical?

• Are they relationally or intellectually driven?

• What ideologies and values do they stand by?

Getting the Small Yesses to Lead to the Big Yes

So far, all you have done is gather information. If you have jumped ahead and tried contacting them immediately, then you are jeopardizing your chances at reconnection. I understand the emotional pull to reach out, but without discipline or a strategy, you will scare off your kid.

The information you gather will be critical to your communication strategy. I mentioned previously that most parents tell me that they don’t know what to say. When the pressure feels too overwhelming, they send a plain message that signals low confidence and wishful hope that it will start a conversation.

This includes but is not limited to messages like:

• Hi/Hello

• How are you?

• Good morning/afternoon/night

• I love you.

• Miss you.

• How was your day today?

These messages are fine as conversation openers in a normal relationship. But you are trying to contact someone who is avoiding you. They are easily ignored, and they don’t attract the attention of your child.

In more extreme cases, I have seen parents get more desperate with their messages, to the point that it looks like this:

I have seen things like parents typing “I LOVE YOU!!!” multiple times with emojis every day, to just a one-word text “hey” at the same time every day, like an alarm clock.

None of that works. Not even in regular friendships and relationships. This kind of texting gets you blocked immediately.

So how do you communicate with someone who can benefit from what you have, but doesn’t want to talk to you?

Fortunately, I work in marketing, and I do this for a living.

There are a few foundational rules in marketing:

1. Know your target audience better than they know themselves. (This is where the detective work comes in.)

2. Speak to the pain points of your target audience. (Interpreting the information you have gathered so you know what your child values.)

3. Sell the benefits, not the features. (Leading with value for the child, not for you.)

Now you might say, “Andrew, I am their parent. Why do I have to sell myself to my own child?”

Bear with me, and it will make sense in a moment.

You don’t need to be a sleazy carsalesman to get your child to see how great it is to be around you. All you have to do is recognize that sales is about relationship-building and problem-solving.

So let’s break down the rules:

Rule #1: Know your target audience better than they know themselves.

Chances are, you have been researching alienation and its impact on children. If you are still unsure what the alienated child is going through, I highly recommend reading the article below first, then resume reading this one.

Wondering what goes on in the head of your alienated child? Read my article: Seeing through the Eyes of the Alienated Child

The core things to remember here are that your child is likely to be in either a survival state (Am I safe?) or an emotional state (Am I loved?). To guide them, you will need to be able to assess in real time which mental state they are in and the appropriate response to meet that need (either safety or connection).

Of course, there are a multitude of other factors to consider, including their age, current life struggles, the level of abuse and alienation occurring, and the history between you and your child.

Write these things down in a journal or digital notepad so that you can see how each of these factors might be affecting your child’s stress levels, emotional state, and their capacity to succeed in life.

All the detective work I mentioned at the beginning of the article? That comes into play here, too. Context is everything.

Rule #2: Speak to the pain points of your target audience

Every day, millions of people go to the gym to work out. Why? Because the pain of not doing so would be more than the pain of working out. The fear of disease, weakness in our old age, brain fog, and injury is enough to motivate many people to exercise regularly so that they stay healthy and fit for as long as their bodies can handle.

As humans, we are motivated by the avoidance of pain and the pursuit of pleasure.

In the case of your child, communicating with you is likely a source of pain. They may be:

• Punished or guilt-tripped for communicating with you.

• Interrogated after every conversation (What did you talk about? Did he/she say anything about me?)

• Insulted for communicating with you (Oh, so you want to be a liar like your mom/dad?)

• Anxious that you may hurt them (Your mom/dad is an alcoholic and they will get violent… or other horror stories)

• Conflicted about previously planned engagements. (Soccer practice with my friends vs seeing the parent that I haven’t seen in years…)

• Angry about something they were told about you. (The unforgivable sin)

• Afraid you will disappear again. (Your mom/dad abandoned you.)

And so on.

Knowing they are in pain and why tells you exactly what to focus on first—providing them with a sense of safety. If I am selling hamburgers, I talk to hungry customers. If I am selling plumbing services, I talk to people with leaking pipes and clogged sewers.

You are selling yourself as a loving parent who can not only give them the support and love they need, but also help them alleviate the pain they are experiencing right now.

If they are afraid of:

• Abandonment - you lead with consistent communication and presence.

• Physical/Emotional/Sexual harm - lead with consistent virtuous behavior

• Punishment for communicating with you or an unforgivable sin - consistent ownership of the situation, so they do not blame themselves.

• Interrogation after talking with you - consistent respect for their space and boundaries, while also actively reducing their risk of punishment.

• Choosing between prior engagements and you - consistently letting them know you are always there, so they don’t have to feel guilty for not choosing you.

Rule #3: Sell the benefits, not the features.

If you are looking to buy a new computer and the sales guy only talks about RAM, processing power, and motherboards, would that help you buy a computer? Probably not.

But if that same sales guy tells you that you can easily run all your apps, games, or online meetings, the camera shows your face clearly so you look professional, it is lightweight so you won’t have sore arms carrying it, and it has enough storage to hold all your photos, files, and programs… well, now you have a real reason to pay attention.

As painful as it is to read this next statement, I am going to say it bluntly:

Severely alienated children do not know or see the benefits of communicating or being with their alienated parent. That is a direct result of their programming from the alienator, and it is compounded by your absence.

This is one of the biggest reasons I push for parents to treat their own psychological wounds first so that they come forward to their children in a peaceful state. Your peace is one of the many benefits you will bring to them, along with financial and emotional support, and your leadership. It is much harder to help them heal if you are triggered into an emotional or survival state.

All of these three rules are the foundation for the main point I want to drive home.

Many parents will try to get the child to go back to the way things were before the alienation. That version of the child is gone and will never come back. Right now, you have your child who has seen and experienced the harm of alienation, and you have to look at them as they are now.

Rather than try to “Go back to the way things used to be…” you will need to look at where things can go from here.

In the case of severe alienation, you will effectively be starting over, rebuilding your relationship with your child brick by brick. And the best way I can frame that journey is through the analogy of dating.

No one walks up to a stranger and says, “Hi. My name is Andrew. Let’s get married.”

There is no connection, shared experiences, or reason to engage in a long-term committed relationship.

Instead, you start by introducing yourself, then have a short conversation or two. Then you go get coffee, then another small date. Afterwards, you do a fancy date and another, spend the night together, meet each other’s parents, move in together, and do all of this over the course of years before tying the knot.

Yet many parents will ask their child for a high level of commitment without having the emotional connection to justify it. If you are severely alienated and haven’t seen your child in years, asking to meet for lunch is almost guaranteed to fail because they don’t trust you enough. In their minds, they already fear the thought of communicating with you, so a phone call sounds like a huge commitment.

Instead, what you need to do is start so small and granular that they don’t even have to do anything.

This is what I call “Getting the Small Yesses to Lead to the Big Yes.”

If you can find their contact information (regardless of how alienated they are), look for fun, low-commitment ways to initiate a conversation. If they respond, you have gotten a small yes. You can slowly compound them until you get to the “Big Yes” (reunification).

Instead of “Hey” or “I miss you” or “Good Morning,” you skip the pleasantries and go straight into a topic that has nothing to do with alienation, politics, religion, family, or negative feelings.

At this stage, especially for text communication, your goal is only for the child to see the message. As long as you are not blocked, you can send messages about pop culture, funny memes and pictures, or neutral observations that do not require a response.

For example, you could send a message that says,

“I thought this was funny and figured you would find it hilarious. No response needed. :)”

The icing on the cake here is NRN - No Response Needed. You know already the pressure they face from the alienator, and you are signaling to them, " Hey, I know about what you are going through, and I am not going to ask you to do something that would get you in trouble.

Combined with a meme that has nothing to do with the current situation or family dynamic, the alienator’s pressure is virtually non-existent.

Sure, the alienator might see the message and deride you by telling, “Wow, your Mom/Dad has nothing better to talk about, huh…”

That is okay—they were already going to do that anyway.

Your goal at this stage is to get your child to laugh or smirk. As long as your child sees the message and thinks “Haha, that’s actually pretty funny… ” you win. You got a small yes.

If your child responds, “Stop texting me.” You won, they have seen the message. Wait a bit and try something else that is funny or interesting to them.

Beyond memes, you can also use pop culture. When I was alienated from my youngest brother, I used movies as conversation starters. I would say, “Hey, this superhero movie looks interesting, and I am wondering if I should go watch it. Have you seen it yet? I don’t want to go if it is not that good.”

Or if I did watch the movie, I would say, “I watched this movie today and thought it was pretty good. What were your thoughts?”

If he responded awesome. If he saw the message awesome. The only thing I was measuring was whether he saw it. Sometimes you won’t know until you see a read receipt under the message. If that is turned off (most apps and devices have read receipts enabled by default), you will just have to trust they can see it until proven otherwise. For all you know, they could be viewing it and not responding for months or years, out of fear that their alienator will retaliate if they reply.

There are a million topics you can cover in this domain, and the best part is these trends are always changing as time moves forward, so you will never run out of topics:

• Pop singers and Bands – Taylor Swift, Drake, Billie Eilish, or whoever they follow

• Movies and TV shows – superhero films, anime, Netflix series, documentaries

• Sports – a big game, a trade, a highlight, or a controversial call

• Games – a new release, an update, a trailer, or a funny in-game moment

• Internet culture – trending memes, short clips, or harmless viral moments

• Music – a song you heard and thought they might enjoy

• Books or podcasts – especially if you know what genres they like

• Everyday curiosities – something odd, clever, or mildly interesting you came across

The key is that none of these topics requires vulnerability, explanation, or emotional labor on their part. You are not asking them to feel, decide, or choose sides.

In a way, you are showing them what a normal life would look like with you in it. These are the kinds of topics you would be talking about if the alienation had never taken place. Instead of talking to them like an alienated parent, “When can we talk? I miss you…” talk like a parent who is still connected, “Have you read this book? I think you would really like it since you like those books. No response needed.”

Over time, these neutral touchpoints do something very important… they decouple you from being perceived as a threat. Instead, you slowly become associated with fun, curiosity, and safety.

That shift in their perception matters more than sending the perfect message. So many parents get into analysis paralysis, thinking to themselves, this message has to be perfect, or my child will disappear. It won’t work like that. There is no perfect message. Some messages will upset your child. All you can do is test and see what works. If you send something they don’t find funny, try again with something else. Ask them about something in pop culture. Just send a message about something small, and if they see it, you win. Their responses will inform what they care about.

One final rule here…do not escalate just because you feel encouraged. A single reply does not mean you should suddenly ask to meet, talk about the past, or “clear the air.” That urge is understandable, but it undermines your efforts. Your child will see your behavior as a bait-and-switch.

If done correctly, without escalation, you will reinforce to your child that you were always there and always loved them. This was the method I used to reunite with my younger brother after he had been severely alienated from me for five years.

Over time, you will go from left-on-seen to one-word answers to short conversations to longer conversations and phone calls. But again, this is a slow process and depends on the severity of the alienation. It took me years to go from left-on-seen to long voice conversations. There is an ebb and flow to it. If they need space, pull back for a while and reappear afterward (the length of the pause depends on the alienation).

Last but not least, in marketing, we say you need a high number of touchpoints or interactions before your customer will buy. This is because customers need to feel familiar with your product and brand before they feel safe buying it. This is why you will always see a Starbucks or McDonald’s down the road (and 4 or 5 in all over your city). Even if you don’t go there regularly, you will always remember their brands because you see them so often.

This does not mean spam your child messages, but again, remember you will stay top of mind if you continue to reach out to them regularly.

Everyone’s Favorite Radio Station

Zig Ziglar, a famous business development coach, would say, “Everyone’s favorite radio station is WII FM.”

It stands for What’s in it for me?

Now you might scoff at this and think it is selfish, but let’s face it, everyone acts out of their own self-interest, including your alienated child. If a child feels like responding to you is a burdensome task for them, they will treat you like a burden until they ultimately decide to ignore you and cut you off.

Years ago, I spoke to an alienated parent who said his child was going to get married, and they were thinking of reaching out to see if the child wanted to reunite.

What I suggested was to pause and think about the child and their perspective. Getting married is often a major event, particularly in the West. The average wedding costs 10K - 50K, and even with a wedding planner, the sheer amount of stress involved in planning this one event can be exhausting.

Rather than reach out to ask to reconnect, I told this parent to talk like a reconnected parent. You would have a far better chance of getting a response by saying,

If that parent said, “Hey, I heard you are getting married. I would love to meet up with you and see how you are doing,” the child will say they are busy and unable to meet. But if you offer them help, even if they reject you and say they have it under control, you at least have a chance to initiate a conversation.

And the best part is, you can offer help many times. Even if they reject your help this time, circumstances might change. And when things inevitably get inconvenient or go wrong, they may just call you and ask for help. Don’t just offer financial help. Take inventory of your skill set and see if they are interested in your help.

The research you did for your child at the beginning will help you identify the areas you can offer support. Mix up your offers to help with your other messages so it does not go stale.

Other Communication Strategies

Knowing how to communicate with your child in small low-comittal ways is critical to your reunification. However, many parents might find themselves in no-contact situations where they cannot even send the first message.

Below are some strategies to consider. Not all of them will apply to your situation, but you can adapt the ones that do to fit your needs.

The Fly on the Wall

My father had a family friend who would attend the summer cookouts, Christmas parties, and occasionally just show up to chat and have fun. My stepmother (the alienator) loved his company, and he was always welcome in the house.

He was a funny guy who would check in with my brother and me and see how we were doing in school, wrestling, and in other aspects of our lives.

One thing my alienator never knew was that he still had a strong relationship with my mother. Every now and then, he would call my mother, talk to her as a friend, and share anything new that was going on with my brother and me. In doing so, my Mom was able to learn about us in a no-contact situation before the rise of social media (this was the early 2000s).

And these were not detailed reports. Just a casual update about what we were up to.

When Facebook became the platform of choice for social media in the 2010s, my Mother asked her relatives to add me as a friend on Facebook. Whenever I posted pictures of myself, her friends would save them and send them to her.

A fly on the wall is someone who observes without intervening. They don’t get involved or say who is right or wrong. While the examples I shared might sound stalkerish, they were far more casual. There wasn’t daily reporting on my every move.

My mother simply wanted to know how we were doing and what kind of men we were growing into. Our Facebook photos were printed and placed on her fridge.

A fly on the wall can be anyone who has a relationship with both you and the child. This can be family friends, teachers or school staff, relatives, sports coaches, band or choir directors, church members, community members, etc.

The point is that you build a friendly, respectful relationship with them, and then you have grounds to ask about them. A fly on the wall is inconspicuous, and you can have multiple people keeping an eye out for your child.

Couple caveats:

1. Never expose your fly on the wall, or the child will likely go no-contact with them.

2. Never ask your fly on the wall to pass messages to your child from you.

Preserving the Past

In addition to being cut off from you, their parent, the alienated child is being cut off from your family tree. Your child will not hear the stories about your parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, or anyone in your family history.

They won’t know their cousins, cultural legacy, or other details that shape identity over time. Your alienated child is bound to ask questions such as where they came from, what their people survived, what was carried forward and passed down through generations, and what was lost.

You can be a place where they find the truth of their history. Genealogy reports, collecting family stories, and building photo albums are all invaluable resources in building a relationship with your child. As you progress forward beyond memes and pop culture, you can share little tidbits about the family.

“Hey, did you know your great-grandfather fought alongside General Patton in WWII?”

“Your Grandmother loves baking. Here is her secret chocolate chip cookie recipe.”

A child of alienation typically thinks that half of them are bad. While they might dismiss any stories featuring you, they may be more receptive to stories about their grandparents or other extended family. Sure, some of these things may be brushed over. Younger kids might not fully grasp the gravity of history until they are older. But these little fun facts give them a sense of connection within their family that they won’t get from their alienator.

The last thing you can do is repair any relationships you have with your family. If you are cut off or distant from family, reconnect with them. It will give you perspective regarding what your child will have to go through to reconnect with you.

Some alienated parents often realize they were alienated as children, and their wounds from their childhood have been carried into their adulthood.

Gifts and Savings

Gifts are tricky because, if done incorrectly, they can suddenly make your child treat you like an ATM.

If your child is young, you can start setting aside money in a 529 College Savings Account or a High-Yield Savings Account. You can name the account after your child and have a set amount of money automatically transferred each month, so you don’t have to think about it. This way, your alienator cannot access the account.

Note: Don’t worry about putting big lump sums. $100/month equals $1200/year, which equals $12,000 in 10 years, not including interest. If other relatives want to send money to your child, you can add it to that account as well, so it compounds.

Over time, you will have money to help them with a down payment on a house, college tuition, or a wedding.

When it comes to holidays and birthdays, the circumstances of your alienation case will determine the best course of action. In my situation, my alienator would keep the money and spend it on things for herself while throwing away or mailing back any toys or games. My mother would handwrite letters for me, which my alienator would mark up in red ink like a teacher and mail them back as a way to insult my mother.

If you are in a similar situation, you are stuck in a catch-22. If you don’t send gifts, they call you selfish and uncaring. If you do, then you are flushing money down the toilet.

The best solution I can offer is to have two sets of gifts. One set of gifts you hold with you until you reunite with your alienated child. These are the higher-value, more sentimental gifts. The second set is the one you send to the alienator for your child, knowing that the alienator could use it for themselves, return it, or throw it away.

The same rules apply to money. You can send a birthday card with $10 in it and transfer $100 into a savings account you created in their name.

If possible, talk to a financial planner, CPA, or money management expert to identify what is the best financial strategy for you.

Estate Planning

No one wants to think about the end of their own life. Some of us are young, and the thought seems too far off, while others who are older feel the terror as this reality sets in.

The Romans (particularly the Stoics) would say “Memento Mori,” which translates to “remember you will die.”

The purpose is to remind ourselves to live, and I mean truly live, while acknowledging our own mortality.

Estate planning is not a fun process. You will have to account for legal, medical, and spiritual decisions as well as face the fear of not reconnecting before death. The whole experience can put a lot into perspective.

You may have family heirlooms, jewelry, or other keepsakes that you want to pass on to your child. If you want to pass a message along to them, write it in a journal and include it with the estate. Keep in mind that the more you write, the more likely the child might throw it away, so be concise.

Be sure to consult the professionals here—your doctor, attorney, therapist, and/or coach. It may be worthwhile to speak with an end-of-life planning coach or expert for additional support.

Create an Email Diary

Another powerful tool is to create an email account for your child. Whenever you want to share a positive, loving message, draft it in an email and send it to that account. Over time, you can build a history of positive emails that they can read when you reunite.

In a sense, you hand them the email and password, like handing them the keys to a car.

This is a place where you can email about:

• Special moments and stories in your life.

• Stories about your child and what you love most about them.

• Holiday and birthday messages.

• Goals and hopes for the future.

Caveat:

• Avoid talking about frustrations and other negative emotions related to the alienation or separation. You don’t want them feeling guilt-tripped or shamed for reading these messages.

Write a Blog with deep introspection or social media presence

Similar to the email diary, a blog or social media account can be a great way to document parts of your life that you want to share with your child. Many parents I have spoken to have created such accounts where they post videos, uplifting messages, and other innocuous things like music and food. Once their child learns about this account, they may consider following you.

If your child follows your account, they will have the benefit of regularly seeing updates about you while being at a safe distance. Of course, the success of this depends on a multitude of factors, such as the alienator's proximity, how often they will intrude on your child’s social media accounts, and which platforms your child spends the most time on.

If you prefer to avoid social media, a blog is a way to do the same thing through writing. Many children reach a point in their lives when they Google their own name to see what comes up. They can organically find a blog about them written by you and see the love you hold for them.

Big Caveats:

1. Ethics is everything here. Do not dox your alienator or engage in any form of slander. If your blog or social media platform is broadcasting your pain, you will repel your child.

2. Be mindful of your child’s digital footprint. As more children become adults in the digital age, many are expressing that they wish their parents had not posted their photos online, as there is no telling who might see them, including identity thieves, predators, and scammers. Additionally, AI can create distorted or misleading images and videos, and a child will likely not want their face used in that way.

Working with the Alienator

Note: I understand this solution will not work for everyone. But I am including it here anyway as it still can work.

People with big egos are predictable once you see the pattern. Where people get stuck is that they expect them to behave in ways that are rational and emotionally regulated, and that just isn’t going to happen with them.

Now, some parents may read this section and say, “Andrew, I am not going to suck up to the alienator, not after what they did to me.”

And if that is the case, that is okay. Everyone’s situation is different, and you have to do what is best for you.

If your child is with someone who is abusive and highly vindictive, this strategy will not work. But if they are with someone who is hurt and acting out because of the pain from the separation, there may be an opportunity to compromise with them.

Some of the easiest ways you can work with the alienator to get access to your kid are to leverage the BIFF Strategy, Gray Rock, and to come from a place of repair.

BIFF stands for:

• Brief

• Informative

• Friendly

• Firm

You only share what information is needed with no additional explanation (brief), stick to the facts (informative), stay polite (friendly), and hold true to your boundaries (firm).

To learn more about the BIFF Strategy, I would highly recommend Bill Eddy’s book, BIFF: Quick Responses to High-Conflict People, Their Personal Attacks, Hostile Email and Social Media Meltdowns.

Gray Rock is a strategy in which you intentionally become uninteresting, emotionally neutral, predictable, and nonreactive.

The reason this works with many alienators is simple… conflict is fuel for them.

High-conflict personalities often seek what is commonly referred to as narcissistic supply—attention, emotional reactions, outrage, fear, defensiveness, or the sense that they can still provoke and control you. When you argue, justify, explain, or defend yourself, you are unintentionally feeding that need.

Instead of reacting emotionally, you behave as boring as a gray rock:

• Use neutral language

• Provide minimal information

• Show no visible frustration, fear, or anger

• Make no attempts to “set the record straight.”

• Make no need to be understood

When paired with BIFF, Gray Rock makes you appear low-reward and low-risk to the alienator. They will move on to pick fights with other people, and you will be able to get your kid back.

Last but not least, some parents are just bitter after a separation, but they are not inherently bad people. It is too easy to claim that all alienators are malicious, narcissistic, and sociopathic, and many of them are. But on the off chance that your child’s alienator is someone who is just bitter, approaching them with the intention of genuine compromise for your child’s benefit may pull them out of their angered state just enough to hear you out.

While many parents might read this and say they have tried hundreds of times to make things worse, I still think it is possible, and it is worth reflecting on the factors that led to the compromise not happening. If an alienated parent always argues and yells with the alienator, then they already flushed diplomacy down the drain.

At one point in your life, you likely fell in love with this person enough to have a child with them. I know there are outliers in this situation, but if there is a real loving human being behind their eyes, beyond the anger and bitterness, then there is a chance for repair so that you can see your child.

That alone should be enough to try.

Dealing With The Wait

The worst part of alienation, particularly at the severe stage, is the wait. You get no responses, and it feels like you are wasting your time. You think your child hates you and will never want anything to do with you, and it is easy to give up.

Holidays are bittersweet, and there is a clear void in the house where your child should be.

Some parents go years without ever hearing from their child. In my case, I was no-contact with my mother for most of 12.5 years, only seeing her one time in person when I was about 10.

I wish I had a more instant solution. If I knew the magic words to end alienation instantaneously, I would publish that article for free immediately!

The tactics I shared above are slow, but as you build momentum over the years, they will carry all the love you hold for your child and wash away years of hurt. These methods are like investing. You don’t get immediate results, but the compounding effect over the years is incredibly powerful.

As I mentioned in the beginning, reaching out to your alienated child is like lighting a paper lantern. It is a prayer or intention you set, then you release it into the world so that it may manifest someday.

And while you wait for your child to reunite, you actively prepare your home to receive them. You ensure that your own life has the space for you to flourish and grow so that your child can rediscover the beauty, passion, and expertise that you carry.

And one day, when you least expect it, you will reach out and hear a response from your child.

Personal Reflection

May 22nd this year will mark 13 years since I left my alienator. I was alienated from my mother for 12.5 years, so in a way, I have now crossed a threshold where I have spent more years reconnected to my mother than I have been alienated (not including my first five years with her).

It is crazy how fast time has gone by.

I remember when I was blocking my alienator on Facebook, I made an impulse decision to unblock my mother. I thought to myself, “What the hell. I don’t have to be afraid of my mother anymore… and she probably won’t message me anyway.”

The next day, she sent me a message asking how I was doing and whether I needed any help.

My mother is one of the big reasons that I write about alienation so often. I believe the pain she endured is unacceptable, and I hope that the lessons we have learned together have been helpful to you in your alienation case. She has never stepped into the limelight of advocacy, but she always supports my writing, regardless of the topics that I publish.

While I won’t have the memories of my mother raising me as a child or teen, I treasure the moments where we get together now to eat, talk about my siblings, watch her play with my daughter, and dote on my wife.

These moments are possible for you too. I cannot say when. All I can say is it will happen so long as you believe it will and strive towards that day. Each time you reach out to your child, it is like lighting a paper lantern and releasing it to the sky.

I will close with a quote that I have been saying more and more to alienated parents lately.

Much love to you all.

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

Share

Are you a writer on Substack?

If you write articles on alienation or estrangement, let me know! I would be happy to exchange recommendations to better support our readers.

If you are a general reader who writes about other topics on Substack, please consider recommending Shortening the Red Thread, as that helps other parents find this newsletter so they can get the support they need to reunite.

As always, I deeply appreciate your support and am grateful for your feedback as I develop these articles.

The Trolley Problem

The trolley problem is a well-known thought experiment in moral philosophy that highlights the tension between utilitarian reasoning and moral duty.

Imagine a runaway trolley speeding down a track toward five people who cannot escape. You stand next to a lever that can divert the trolley onto another track where only one person stands. The dilemma is whether you should pull the lever, sacrificing one life to save five, or refrain from acting, allowing the trolley to continue on its course.

On the one hand, a utilitarian perspective argues that pulling the lever is justified because it minimizes total harm—one death rather than five. On the other hand, a deontological view maintains that actively causing harm, even for a greater good, is morally impermissible, which means that choosing to pull the lever makes you directly responsible for killing someone. Ultimately, the trolley problem is not about finding a single “right” answer but about exposing the moral frameworks and psychological intuitions that guide human decision-making.

Alienation has its own version of the trolley problem, regarding the child's outcome.

For the alienated parents, the trolley represents the alienation of their child, and the trolley problem for alienated parents plays out in two tracks, each with no guarantee of reuniting with their child.

On one side is the legal route. The parent can go through family court, investing enormous time and money, and risking debt, all while exposing the child to escalating conflict, stress, and intensified alienation. There is no guarantee the parent will win custody, and even if they do, alienation can still occur if the alienator maintains close proximity.

On the other side is the non-legal route, where a parent walks away, with the hopes that their alienated child will understand when they are older. This may protect the child from immediate distress from the family court system, but it carries serious risks, including limited or no access to the targeted parent for an indeterminate period, or the child believing the parent never fought for them. The child may go into no-contact mode and believe their parent is unforgivable for sins they may not even have committed. There is no guarantee that the child will learn the truth when they are older, and some parents have gone years or even decades without ever having a conversation with their child.

In either direction, the parent must choose under uncertainty, knowing that both paths are fraught and neither ensures the child’s well-being or eventual reconciliation. The child is highly likely to experience alienation in some capacity, and the thought alone terrifies parents to the point of freezing in place.

I will go through each track in greater detail.

Track 1: Battle it Out in Family Court

Note: I am not a licensed attorney and nothing I share below is to be considered legal advice. Before you make any legal decisions, be sure to consult your attorney or other licensed legal experts.

One of the first people I contacted in preparation for this article was Ashish Joshi, an attorney in Michigan who specializes in Parental Alienation. He is the author of the book Litigating Parental Alienation, which can be a valuable resource for attorneys seeking to better address cases involving alienation.

Ashish pointed out that, regardless of the choice you make, the first step is to take an objective look at the facts.

Here are some questions he shared that a parent would need to consider before even committing to stepping into family court:

• How severe is the alienation?

• Does the rejected/targeted parent have any contact with/access to the child?

• Is the child otherwise stable, e.g., doing well in school, no self-harm behaviors, no substance or drug abuse, etc.?

• How close is the child to the age of emancipation?

• What reunification options are available in the geographic area where the parent/child is located, and are these professionals trained and skilled in the alienation dynamics?

• Have the parent and child undergone prior reunification efforts, and if so, how did it turn out?

• And last but not least, is the state in which the parent and child are located, and whether that state is friendly to the concept of parental alienation—e.g., a New York court may view the issue very differently from a court in California?

These questions are no doubt the tip of the iceberg. In addition to specific events and elements in your legal case, you also have to consider your available resources, given the costs. Legal battles require time, emotional energy, and substantial financial resources. Sometimes, the alienator is the person with more resources, and they may engage in legal battles to beat you through attrition.

It is common to hear stories of alienated parents sharing how they spent thousands, sometimes millions of dollars on legal action that amounted to nothing. Parents have ramped up their personal debt, spent their 401k and other retirement funds, and may have even dipped into their alienated child’s college just to be told by the court that they only get supervised visitation.

Now, if you have already committed to a legal battle, you have to be able to approach your legal situation from an emotionally detached position so that you can make strategic moves to support your case.

The last thing you want to do is to spend all this time, energy, and money on a legal battle and lose, and then turn around and blame the lawyer for not doing enough when you had no chance of winning in the first place.

If that last sentence makes you mad, I get it. I was once in this position too. In 2015, I dropped out of college and worked overtime in retail to send my paychecks to a lawyer in Singapore during my youngest brother's custody battle. And when we inevitably lost, we got bitter and blamed the lawyer.

However, we never once paused to evaluate our legal strategy. Nor did we ask the attorneys what our chances of success were. We were highly emotional, bitter, and angry, and we were juggling financial and medical challenges—so you can imagine we were far from ideal clients.

We thought that if we told the lawyer what we wanted and pointed them in that direction, they would do exactly as we asked if we paid on time. And it just doesn’t work that way. If we had any actual chance of winning, we would have won.

How do you know if the legal route is the right course to take?

1. You must examine the facts of your current situation objectively and evaluate whether you have a strong case that demonstrates you as the more responsible and stable parent. If you don’t know the answer, ask your lawyer what your chances of success are.

2. You must be able to detach emotionally enough to think strategically with your attorney. Your lawyer is not a social worker, therapist, or spiritual advisor. They strictly deal with legal issues, and you cannot expect them to have the training or capacity to manage your emotions.

3. You must treat your lawyer as a strategic partner, not an order-taker. While it is important to have goals for your divorce and custody agreements, you cannot expect your attorney to miraculously conjure the results you expect. If it were that easy, everyone would be a lawyer.

If you choose the legal route, keep in mind that your children will experience heightened stress from the alienator and any court proceedings that take place.

Track 2: Walk Away and Hope for the Best

Most people who choose this path do so because they ran out of options. When the money runs dry and energy is depleted, parents are ready to throw in the towel and hope their child learns the truth one day.

If anything, this is where the myth of a child returning at 18 comes from. Overly hopeful individuals will select an arbitrary date (e.g., the day the child becomes a legal adult) and designate it as the day marking the beginning of reunification. Then the day passes, and nothing happens. While the thought might temporarily give the parent a sense of control, the reality is far more agonizing. Years can go by, sometimes decades, and the parent eventually loses all hope.

Other parents find themselves devising strategies to attract their child’s attention and to alert them to the truth. Some try to tell their child they are being brainwashed, only to be immediately bombarded with hateful responses. They might send friends or family that the child knows to intervene, which undermines that relationship and makes the child angrier.

One common hurdle parents face is a list of “unforgivable sins” that the child holds against the parent. These accusations may be entirely false or embellishments of the truth, though they are often a mix of truth and falsehood.

This can include, but is not limited to:

• Adultery, promiscuity, and/or soliciting pornography/prostitution

• Domestic violence, sexual assault, and/or verbal abuse

• Alcoholism, addictions, gambling, and/or other vices

• Laziness, weaponized incompetence, avoiding responsibility, unreliable, and/or neglectful

• Psychological instability, mental disorders, and/or emotionally volatile

• Financially irresponsible, cannot hold a job, broke, and/or a burden to others

• Political, religious, or ideological grievances

• Controlling, liar, cheater, embarrassment to the family, failure, abandoning the child, and/or backstabber

• Negative events such as police involvement, major fights and outbursts, and/or public embarrassment.

The issue with these accusations is that they are layered in a way that paints a vilified image of someone who is unforgivable and unlikely to change.

If I told you that an individual was a promiscuous, jobless alcoholic who bounces between minimum wage jobs and always has someone to blame, you can easily picture someone you know historically or even in your community who likely fits that profile. If you never meet the accused person (and really get to know them) and go solely on the description provided, you would be none the wiser. That person could have turned a new leaf. Their vices and character flaws might not be as extreme as described.

So your child is placed in a situation where they have this image of you as dangerous to their personal safety. They are punished for communicating with you, which increases the stakes for them. As a result, the child cannot get your perspective or side of the story because they are afraid of the consequences and of the possibility that you might hurt them.

However, there is one way in which the alienator allows communication with you, and they can attempt to validate these accusations… and that is through anger.

Many parents make the mistake of getting defensive here. JADE (justify, argue, defend, explain) does not work here.

When the child accuses you of an unforgivable sin, whether it is true or not, they are engaging in a power game where you are placed beneath them. To attempt to explain your side or communicate logically is to submit to a lower status where your child plays judge, jury, and executioner. The alienator teaches the child this kind of game, and chances are, your child has been the victim of this type of interaction with them more times than they can count.

This doesn’t always mean that your child is intentionally manipulating you to hurt you in the way the alienator does. The easiest way to tell if your child is hurting from a past event or is manipulating you is to see if there is a moving target.

If the child speaks about a specific event or behavior that has harmed them, then reconciliation is still a viable option. Even if their perception is warped by the alienator, they are assessing whether you will take ownership of the impact on them.

I am a firm believer in taking full ownership of the situation, even when external factors are beyond your control. Keep in mind that I am not saying you should apologize for things you did not do. Rather, you can apologize for things at a broad level.

• I am sorry that I didn’t handle things better. I am committing to being better moving forward.

• I made a mistake, and that is on me. I should not have done that, and I will do whatever it takes to make things right.

• I see that you are carrying much of the emotional weight from this, and that should not be your responsibility. That is my job, and I want to help you avoid carrying this.

A good apology takes ownership of the situation and shows a commitment to change. Not only is it the right thing to do, but it also gives them the emotional safety to hear you out in the future. Do not, under any circumstances, give a half-assed apology or a weaponized apology. Doing so will not only further damage your relationship but also lead to them going no-contact.

This includes language like:

• I’m sorry you feel that way, but that’s not what really happened… (This is turning an apology into JADE)

• I’m sorry for whatever you think I did… (Lack of specificity will anger the child more.)

• Okay, I’m sorry. Can we just move past this now? (This shows dismissal of the child’s concerns. They won’t take you seriously if you don’t take them seriously.)

• I apologize for my reaction, but you pushed me to my limit. (You cannot blame your child for your emotions)

• I’m sorry if I hurt you, but you have no idea how much this has destroyed me. I’ve been suffering too. (Your apology should be entirely focused on them, not you.)

• I’m sorry, but you have to understand I did the best I could. (The child does not care about how hard you tried. They want to know if you will commit to doing better.)

• I’m sorry, but that is not how I see it… (Dismissing their perception, even if it is way off, will only lead them to ignore yours.)

Now, some parents reading this might think, “Why should I apologize for something that is not my fault? The alienator started all of this…”

And the thing is, they could be 100% right. But that doesn’t change the situation because the child is in a place where the alienation process has harmed them, and they believe it is your fault.

If you want to advance your communication with your child, they need to know they can trust you. An untrustworthy person might apologize, but they never take ownership. You already see this in your day-to-day life. But there is a very different energy around someone who takes ownership, even if external factors beyond your control are dramatically limiting your options.

When I reunited with my mother, she apologized for many things:

I am sorry for not always being there for you, but I can be here now.

I am sorry things happened that way with your dad, but I will always be here for you.

I am sorry that I couldn’t talk to you back then, but I will always be available to talk now.

At first, I didn’t give these apologies much attention. Once I learned more about her side of the story, I was blown away by how much she was taking ownership, given that so many things were outside her control. I thought I should be the one apologizing for not giving her a chance sooner.

She demonstrated a humble and dignified manner of carrying herself, even under tremendous stress and pain, setting an example that I strive to emulate.

Now the apology only helps if the child is speaking about something specific to their experience. If there is a moving goalpost, then you know they are engaging in a manipulative tactic.

Suppose they accuse you of one thing and you apologize. If they then accuse you of another, the apology was never the goal. As I mentioned earlier, the child is engaging in a psychological game similar to what the alienator uses on them. It could be a product of enmeshment with the alienator, as a form of self-protection or a safe release of pent-up emotion.

No one likes to be a punching bag, but there is honor and compassion in holding a space for them to release their negative emotions. (This is why I titled a previous article The Crucifixion of the Modern Parent. I am not a Christian, but the metaphor of carrying the sins of your children really nails what is expected of the modern parent.)

So what do you do if your child creates a moving target and is not ready for a genuine apology?

You set a boundary and stand by it.

A grounded response may look like: “I want to repair our relationship. When you’re ready to talk about something specific that hurt you, I will listen, take responsibility where it is mine, and work to make it better. But I can’t engage in conversations that continually shift or attack who I am as a person.”

Reminder: A boundary tells the other person what you will do if specific conditions are not met.

As I mentioned in the introduction, the most painful part of this pathway is the waiting. There is no guarantee when or if the child will reunite with you, and many parents and grandparents have gone decades without contact with their child.

Personally, I do not like the idea of waiting and hoping for the best. Yes, it is good to tell your child that your door is always open to them, but there are other things you can do.

That is why I propose a third option that alienated parents often overlook. It will not yield immediate results, but committing to it will empower you and your family in a compounding way.

The 3rd Option - Active Preparation for Reunification

In preparation for this article, I spoke with Ginger Gentile, director of the documentaries Borrando a Papá (Erasing Dad) and Erasing Family, and now alienation coach at Reversing Parental Alienation.

I have long been a fan and friend of Ginger, and our strategies and methodologies for supporting alienated parents are closely aligned.

During my interview with her, we discussed the 3rd option available to parents. While it may sound similar to the second track, it differs in principle because it is active rather than passive.

I included the link to the interview below.

You are not waiting for them to return. You expect them to return, and you are preparing for that day. While you may not know when they will reach out, you fully intend to be prepared to receive them when they do.

Active preparation means you are:

1. Healing your trauma so that you are not emotionally triggered by the alienator or your child’s outbursts.

2. Developing strong communication, leadership, and emotional regulation skills so that you are a reliable and stable person that your alienated child can depend on.

3. Building a beautiful life. A child does not want to reunite with a parent who is caught in a maelstrom of chaos and dysregulation. Show your child what courage and strength look like in the face of adversity.

4. Leaving breadcrumbs for your child to follow. As your child gets older, they will start to explore their curiosities on their own. A website with their name is one way you can reconnect with them (if done ethically).

5. Repairing other disrupted family relationships first. If you have broken relationships with your own parents, siblings, or close family, healing those relationships increases your emotional capacity and often shifts the dynamic with your alienated child. Kids notice when you genuinely grow.

6. Stopping the martyr narrative. Kids don’t want a parent who “suffered for them.” They want parents who are emotionally present. Martyrdom entails an emotional burden for the child.

These tasks are not easy, and they do not yield results immediately. As a consequence, many alienated parents delay or avoid doing this kind of work because they believe that it doesn’t help.

But the fundamental principle is true here, just like in all things. Small daily efforts consistently outperform a single large effort.

There are a few caveats here.

1. Given the severity of alienation, you will be required to maintain a high level of emotional regulation and to execute leadership and communication skills with precision.
   
   That is because alienation dynamics are volatile. Half-hearted regulation, occasional skillful communication, or sporadic “trying hard” won’t change your situation. You cannot rely on luck to reunite you with your child.
   

2. You cannot “win” by educating them into the truth.
   
   If your goal is to prove you were right, debunk lies, or be vindicated, you will lose the relationship even if you win the argument.
   

3. Do not do this alone, and choose your support wisely.

   
   Bitterness-based support groups and rage-driven communities reinforce hopelessness and entitlement. You do not want to join a group that pretends to be a support network but is actually Fight Club in disguise. Surround yourself with people who have reunited, people who are healing, and professionals who actually understand alienation.
   

4. This is not passive “manifesting.” It’s hard work.
   

   Active preparation is not hoping, praying, wishing, or spiritually waiting. You are developing structured emotional regulation and communication skills, engaging in trauma work, and intentionally stabilizing your lifestyle.
   

5. Healing yourself is not selfish.
   

   Alienation is like you and your child both having broken arms. If you tell yourself that you cannot go to the hospital to fix your broken arm until your child’s arm is fixed, you will be operating at a much slower pace than you could be. Anyone who goes to hug you or show you love will leave you wincing in pain. Heal yourself first, and you will have the tools and experience to guide your child through their healing journey.

What’s Coming Next?

It is crazy to think that it has already been a year since I started this newsletter. Since January 1st, 2025, STRT has grown to 574 subscribers.

The top three performing articles of 2025 (based on likes, shares, and reads) are:

1. How to Talk With Your Alienated Child When They Don’t Want to Talk To You

2. Seeing through the Eyes of the Alienated Child

3. A Response to Alienation Deniers

I was also featured as a guest author in the Kids Need Both anthology, Building Bridges of Hope Vol. 2: Strengthening Co-Parenting and Family Bonds, alongside experts such as Dawn Endria McCarty, Dr. Alyse Price-Tobler, Danica Joan Dockery, John Stenner Hamel Jr., and many others. You can get your copy through Amazon or ask your local library if they have it in their listing.

If you prefer to read just my chapter for free, you can do so here: (Bonus) Building Bridges of Hope Vol. 2: Strengthening Co-Parenting and Family Bonds.

Your feedback has been invaluable in helping me understand which articles empower parents to communicate more effectively with their alienated children. For that, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.

As always, feel free to ask any questions, and I may even turn your question into a newsletter.

Book Update

As some of you may know, I have been using this newsletter to share my best ideas for free so that I can help parents find the best strategies to reunite and heal with their children.

While there may be some overlap, I will not be copying what I have already published here into a book. Rather, my goal is to have the book be an A-Z guide to reunification with this substack as a bonus resource.

I want this to be the best and most effective book for parents, and while that is a very high standard, I think alienated parents desperately need something that puts the power back in their hands.

Most books on alienation are academic, which can help understand alienation on a clinical level, but they do not provide parents with the tools they need to reunite. If there are books or resources you have found that have helped you, I would love to hear about them so I can add them to my research list.

For now, I am still in the throes of research. Hopefully, as 2026 progresses, I will have enough saved up to get release forms from my attorney so I can conduct interviews with subject matter experts in the alienation and estrangement field. Then I will begin drafting the book shortly after.

Until then, I have many great topics for future newsletters that I think will really help readers. Please continue to share articles you find helpful with other alienated parents.

Happy New Year, and may the years ahead bring you answers, peace, and pure joy.

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

Are you a writer on Substack?

If you write articles on alienation or estrangement, let me know! I would be happy to exchange recommendations to better support our readers.

If you are a general reader who writes about other topics on Substack, please consider recommending Shortening the Red Thread, as that helps other parents find this newsletter so they can get the support they need to reunite.

As always, I deeply appreciate your support and am grateful for your feedback as I develop these articles.

Remembering Those No Longer With Us

In early 2014, I started my journey as a formerly alienated child who would speak out about alienation. I was invited to several podcasts, talk shows, and events. I remember at the time, everyone was rallying around Jason Patric’s campaign, Stand Up for Gus, hoping that his fight for coparenting would shed more public light on the countless alienated parents who have been denied the right to be in their child’s life.

By December 2014, Facebook groups were filled with posts honoring the one-year death anniversary of Christopher Mackney, a father in Virginia who had taken his life after the pain of alienation being too much.

I was still relatively new to all of this, so I didn’t fully understand the gravity of it all. As a formerly alienated child, parents reach out to me often with questions, hoping that I might provide some insight into what their children are experiencing.

Over the years, I have met many kind and loving parents and grandparents who passed away before they were able to reunite with their alienated children. I have also met formerly alienated children who were only able to spend a few years trying to recapture what was lost before losing their parents to age or illness.

When we are young, it is so easy to overlook just how short our time on this earth is. We want to treasure each moment, but can’t because of the bitterness and anger of the alienator.

Birthdays and holidays are the hardest parts of the year for parents. These are the days when we want to celebrate the love and joy we have for our loved ones, and it doesn’t feel complete without the alienated child.

Without them, the holidays can feel meaningless. Parents often find themselves questioning whether they even have a right to celebrate the day without their child. If you have other kids staying with you, it can be easier to focus on celebrating with them. However, if all your children are taken from you, the house feels empty and lonely.

If you know someone who has lost their life to alienation, let this article be a place where we hold space for them and for the love they carried for their children.

What Alienation Has Taught Me About Suicidal Pain

There was only one instance in my life where I felt suicidal. I was around 9-10 years old at the time, and amidst the family drama, gaslighting from my alienator, and feeling alone, I wanted it all to end. What’s strange to me is how the circumstances around these feelings were far less severe than what would later take place in my teenage years.

Over the course of about six months, I had:

• Runaway from home. (I was fortunately found by a caring person in the community who had called the police to take me home).

• Watched some of my family be deported back to Singapore.

• Been repeatedly punished because my alienator thought I was being disruptive at school, even though I never did the things she claimed she saw me do. Punishments involved a great deal of yelling and being rapped on the knuckles with a wooden spoon.

• Been manipulated into a bible study program that I was not interested in, and then I was accused of begging to join it when I wanted to quit.

I felt incredibly alone at the time and hated the life that I was living. I couldn’t escape it, and it felt like no one cared. I wrote a suicide note, and finally, a day came when I was home alone.

I spent a long time thinking. Fortunately, I wasn’t very smart at the time, so I didn’t know of the methods that could cause serious injury. Instead, I told myself that if this was going to be my last moments, then I better enjoy them. I ended up spending that evening eating Oreos, drinking milk, and thinking about the fun things I would want to do before trying to drive a kitchen knife in my chest.

My procrastination paid off because my father came home before I did anything to myself. I took my suicide note and buried it in the trash. I never told anyone about it afterwards.

I haven’t thought about this moment for over 15 years. You could say that this is one of those memories that gets pushed to the far recesses of your mind, hoping it gets forgotten. The idea of saying I had contemplated taking my own life (no matter how unsuccessful the attempt) never sits well with me, and I think that is rooted in the shame of having considered it in the first place. I strive to be a positive influence who always believes that a problem can be solved with the right tools and attitude.

These emotions are common amongst those who have also had suicidal feelings. On one hand, you want to escape the overwhelming pain present in your life. On the other hand, you feel a deep-rooted shame for wanting to end it all.

Suicide is not an easy topic to cover. There is a great deal of trepidation surrounding the subject, to the point that social media influencers have created multiple terms to discuss it so they are not penalized by the algorithm.

I will not be doing that here.

My focus will be on recognition and knowing what to do so that you can support yourself and those you love, just in case the wisdom is ever needed.

Understanding the Emotion of Sadness

Disclaimer: If you or someone you know is in immediate danger of harming themselves, call emergency services now.

I am not a licensed therapist or psychologist. Everything I share in this article is based on lived experience, research, and widely accepted frameworks I’ve studied through books, trainings, and educational resources. This is not a substitute for professional mental-health care. If you are struggling, or if someone you love is in emotional danger, please seek support from licensed clinicians, crisis professionals, or trusted medical providers who are qualified to guide you safely.

Dr. Paul Ekman’s research in body language has shown us that we all express our emotions universally, regardless of age, gender, culture, and education. The most remote tribes in the African savannahs, Amazonian rainforests, and the jungles of Papua New Guinea all use the same facial expressions that you or I would use in a day-to-day setting.

We furrow our eyebrows when we are feeling angry, and we smile ear to ear when we are feeling happy. Our lips curve downward in moments of sadness, and the nose is raised in disgust.

These repeated facial cues were recorded and analyzed, leading to Dr. Ekman’s book, "Emotions Revealed," on microexpressions. While I wouldn’t say this is required reading, I found great value in learning the nuances behind emotions (and that is coming from someone who is primarily a logical thinker).

Additionally, Dr. Paul Ekman and the Dalai Lama collaborated on a resource known as the Atlas of Emotions, which illustrates the experiences and responses associated with the primary emotions—anger, sadness, disgust, fear, and enjoyment. Below is the chart for sadness.

The chart illustrates the 10 levels of sadness, ranging from the least intense to the most intense. As an alienated parent, you can easily see how quickly one can climb up each level. (You will also experience varying intensities of other emotions like Fear, Disgust, and Anger, but I will be focusing on Sadness here).

When your child starts to reject you, you experience disappointment. Thinking it is a phase, you might step back and try again later. After repeated rejections, disappointment turns into discouragement or distraughtness. As you progress to each level, the baseline also increases.

If we use the graphical representation of 1-10 to represent the scale of intensity, disappointment ranges from 0 to 5, while discouragement ranges from 1 to 8. Rising to the next level sets a new emotional floor for the person. If those emotions are not processed, the person will assume this is their new normal, without realizing how tense they are with charged emotions that have nowhere to go.

After experiencing more rejections than can be counted, the alienated parent often falls into a range of emotions, including sadness, resignation, hopelessness, misery, and possibly despair.

What is interesting about many of the higher levels of sadness (from resignation to anguish) is that they all can reach the highest level of intensity. Keep in mind that you can experience multiple forms of sadness simultaneously. For example, you may experience despair and resignation after receiving numerous rejections from your child.

When recognizing sadness through body language, there are several facial cues to look for.

According to Dr. Ekman, genuine sadness is difficult to fake (unless you are a trained actor). Sad emotions are characterized by very specific and involuntary facial changes:

• The inner corners of the eyebrows pull upward, creating a slight triangular shape above the nose. This is one of the most reliable indicators of true sadness and is extremely difficult to control intentionally.

• The eyelids droop, and the eyes lose their usual brightness or focus.

• The corners of the lips pull downward, or the mouth becomes tense as the person tries to hold back tears.

• The head often tilts down, paired with gaze aversion.

• Muscle tone decreases, causing the shoulders to slump or the body to fold inward.

• Breathing becomes shallow or inconsistent, especially when someone is trying to keep themselves composed.

These microexpressions typically flash across the face in under a second. They appear before the person has time to intellectually process what they’re feeling, making them a powerful indicator that the sadness has reached a deeper level than the person may be able to verbalize.

These moments can shift from mild sadness to deep anguish in just seconds, yet the person may offer a polite smile, a quick nod, or a practiced response that dismisses the moment. The body, however, does not lie. Emotional pain leaks through in flashes, be it through a quiver of the lip, a tightening of the jaw, or a rapid blink to push back tears.

The purpose of sadness is to attract attention so that others will come to help you. We are social beings, so when we hear our fellow human crying, we instinctively feel compelled to investigate and offer help.

With that said, we are also prone to deceiving others into thinking that the emotions we are experiencing are not as bad as they look. That is one of the big reasons why suicide catches people by surprise. So many people find themselves saying the same thing, “I thought they were happy…I had no idea they felt that way.”

The body does not lie, and with enough practice, you will become aware of emotional cues that slip out in a fraction of a second before the brain takes back control, resetting the face to another emotional expression and uttering words of comfort to ameliorate the situation.

So, How Do You Know if Someone is Feeling Suicidal?

Disclaimer: If you or someone you know is in immediate danger of harming themselves, call emergency services now.

Keep in mind that in isolation, some of these behaviors are just emotional expressions and coping behaviors. However, if you see multiple signs then you have reason to suspect a person is in a depressive state.

The truth is that most people do not announce these thoughts directly. Some do, but many hide their distress out of shame, fear of judgment, or the belief that their pain is a burden to others. This is especially true for alienated parents, who have often spent years masking their emotions in courtrooms, mediation sessions, or family gatherings where their reality is minimized or dismissed.

That is why understanding the warning signs is crucial, particularly during the holidays, when emotional pressure is at its highest and isolation is more common.

Emotional and Verbal Warning Signs

These are often the first indicators that someone’s internal world is becoming unsafe:

• Talking about wanting to die or expressing a wish to “just not wake up.”

• Expressing guilt, shame, or self-blame, believing they’ve failed as a parent or that their child’s rejection means they are unworthy.

• Saying they feel like a burden, a common belief among alienated parents who feel they bring “too much pain” into conversations.

• Talking about feeling trapped or unable to escape their situation.

• Expressing hopelessness, especially comments like “It will never get better” or “There’s no point anymore.”

Behavioral Warning Signs

Changes in behavior are often more reliable than words, especially for people who tend to keep their pain private:

• Withdrawing from social contact, declining invitations, or disappearing from regular routines.

• Sleeping significantly more or significantly less, especially when paired with low energy or irritability.

• Increasing alcohol or drug use to numb emotional pain.

• Giving away personal belongings or making unusual preparations, such as organizing finances or writing letters.

• Taking dangerous risks, such as reckless driving or unsafe behaviors that signal a disregard for personal safety.

• Extreme mood swings, ranging from deep sadness to sudden calm (more on sudden calm below), can indicate a final emotional shift before an attempt.

Cognitive and Internal Warning Signs

What a person thinks about can also reveal escalating danger:

• Fixating on death, dying, or violent scenarios.

• Believing there is no path forward or that all possible solutions have failed.

• Feeling emotionally numb, disconnected, or detached from life.

• Fantasizing about escape, even vaguely, such as “I just want all of this to stop.”

Situational Warning Signs

Outside pressures can intensify suicidal risk:

• Chronic illness, sleep deprivation, or physical pain.

• Sudden life changes—loss of work, legal setbacks, relationship ruptures.

• Reactivating events, such as the anniversary of estrangement, a missed birthday, or holiday traditions that now highlight absence.

• Being alone during meaningful holidays, especially when combined with unresolved grief.

Youth-Specific Warning Signs

• Statements of hopelessness about the future.

• Overwhelming emotional pain, even when the trigger seems small.

• Physical symptoms like headaches, fatigue, stomachaches tied to emotional overload.

• Withdrawing from friends or activities, sudden irritability, or unusual anger.

• Changes in sleep, appetite, or school performance.

• A sudden shift toward risky behavior or impulsivity.

The Sudden Calm

One of the most misunderstood and potentially dangerous warning signs is what psychologists sometimes refer to as the sudden calm. After weeks, months, or even years of emotional turmoil, a person may abruptly appear peaceful, clear-minded, or even cheerful. To friends and family, it can look like a breakthrough. In reality, this shift often reflects a deeper, more concerning emotional state.

When someone has been wrestling with despair or suicidal thoughts, there comes a moment when they may feel they’ve “made a decision.” The conflict between wanting to live and wanting the pain to end temporarily goes away, not because the situation improved, but because they believe they have found a way to escape the emotional burden. The relief they feel is real, but it is relief rooted in resignation.

The bottom line is that the sudden calm creates the impression of recovery while concealing the internal commitment to self-harm.

If you notice someone who has been deeply distressed suddenly becoming unusually calm, organized, or at peace, especially after significant emotional pain, it is pivotal to check in gently and directly. Ask how they’re doing beneath the surface. Stay present and encourage them to connect with you. The goal is not confrontation, but rather to help them feel seen and not alone in a moment when isolation is most dangerous.

Remember, the sudden calm is not a reason to panic, but it is a reason to pay attention and be present.

Where to turn for help

Different countries have different hotlines to call in the event you are experiencing suicidal feelings. I have compiled a list of the most common countries below. If there is one that I have missed, please feel free to tag me in a comment, and I will add it to the list.

United States

988 — Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (call or text)
Text HOME to 741741 — Crisis Text Line

Canada

9-8-8 — Suicide Crisis Helpline (call or text)

United Kingdom & Ireland

116 123 — Samaritans (free, 24/7)

Australia

13 11 14 — Lifeline Australia
1300 659 467 — Suicide Call Back Service

New Zealand

1737 — “Need to Talk?” (call or text)
0508 828 865 — Suicide Crisis Helpline

Germany

0800 111 0 111
0800 111 0 222
TelefonSeelsorge (national crisis hotline, 24/7, free)

France

3114 — National Suicide Prevention Hotline (24/7)

Singapore

1-767 — Samaritans of Singapore (SOS)
+65 6970 6222 — SOS CareText (text line)

Japan

03-5774-0992 — TELL Lifeline (English-friendly)
0120-279-338 — Inochi no Denwa (Japanese-language hotline)

India

9152987821 — Aasra (24/7)

South Korea

1393 — Korea Suicide Prevention Hotline

Philippines

0966 351 4518 — NCMH Crisis Hotline (mobile)
1553 — NCMH Landline Crisis Hotline (nationwide)

South Africa

0800 567 567 — Suicide Crisis Line
0800 456 789 — LifeLine

Hong Kong

+852 2896 0000 — Suicide Prevention Services
+852 2382 0000 — Samaritans Hong Kong

If you’re outside these regions

Find your nearest crisis line through the international directory:
Befrienders Worldwide — https://befrienders.org

Your Alienated Children Need You, Even if They Don’t Know It

One of the core messages I share with parents is that the behavior of alienated children is reactive. They are reacting to the abusive nature of the alienator, which puts them in a survival state.

I explore this topic in depth in my article, "Seeing through the Eyes of the Alienated Child."

Your child may not be in a position to express it, and in some cases, they may not even be aware of it, but they need you. Your child needs you the most at the exact moment they feel least able to reach for you.

Most alienated parents are not negligent, absent, or disinterested. The opposite is true.
They are parents who took an interest in their child’s inner world, invested in their growth, celebrated milestones, and rearranged their lives to accommodate their child's and family's needs. They are parents who would have continued doing all of this had alienation not torn the normal developmental path apart.

Instead of participating in daily development, the alienated parent is forced into the role of an observer, where they must watch from the sidelines as their child changes in ways that are painful to see, and that is its own kind of grief.

You have to watch your child become someone they were never meant to be. The child learns to be scared, reactive, withdrawn, and angry in ways that you never wanted for them. This transformation is not their fault, but it is agonizing to watch, because every step away from their true self is a reminder of the version of them you were trying to nurture.

You grieve the child your son or daughter could have been if they had been allowed to grow without interference, manipulation, or emotional weaponization. You grieve the potential you saw in them (curiosity, humor, courage, brilliance, tenderness), and you mourn the fact that you were denied the chance to help those qualities blossom.

But their story does not end here, and your role in your child’s life is not finished.

Once a child exits the alienating environment—through age, distance, maturity, or a sudden break in the family system—they often require a substantial amount of support to rebuild their identity, trust their own perceptions, and heal from the emotional conditioning they endured.

And that means the parent they return to must be intact.

If you tell yourself they will never see the truth, they will never come back, or that the alienator has won permanently, you surrender your power to change the future. Hopelessness becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I don’t know when your alienated child will return to you, but I do know that suicide guarantees they won’t. It is improbable that they will find out the truth and mourn you because anybody can say anything about the dead—the dead cannot talk back and defend themselves or tell their side of the story.

Do not allow the alienator to hold that kind of power over your child.

How to Celebrate Your Child During the Holidays.

These practices are not about pretending everything is okay. They are about creating continuity, preserving connection, and honoring the place your child holds in your life, even when you are distant.

1. Create a Yearly Memento

A physical object preserves the thread of your bond and creates a tangible symbol of your love that your child can receive one day. For example, you can make a holiday ornament with their name, age, or a memory.

Each year, you put it up on the Christmas tree or somewhere around the house to show they are there with you in spirit.

2. Record Messages for Their Future Self

Your child may not be able to hear from you now, but they may one day want to know who you were and how you held them in your heart.

Record a short video or voice note each holiday season. You can discuss your life, share your memories of them, and express your hopes for their future. Make them fun and light so that they feel included with you in the moment.

Save the files on a hard drive or secure cloud folder so that you can access them when the time is right. If you are concerned about your well-being due to age, be sure to include access to these files in an estate plan.

3. Set Aside a Meaningful Gift Each Year

Sometimes, the alienator will throw away gifts and keep any money that you give your child. At the same time, you might be accused of being indifferent if you do not send gifts.

Consider two types of gifts. One is lower cost (but still meaningful) and forwarded to the alienator’s house (assuming they have primary custody of the child). The other type of gift is one that you save for your child when they come to visit you.

Even if you cannot give it to them now, you can give it to them when they reunite.

4. Build a Financial Foundation for Them

Supporting their future keeps you in the role of a parent who plans, protects, and provides. Open a savings or investment account that is not accessible to the alienator. You can decide how often you add small amounts and avoid touching it. Personally, I set up an automatic transfer every paycheck so I don’t have to worry about it.

Just like with recorded files, be sure to include this bank account in your estate planning.

5. Create a “Legacy Box”

Think of this as a time capsule for your child. When the time is right, your child may one day open up to understand how consistently you cared.

• Add letters, photos, small mementos, or stories from the year.

• Include notes about their strengths, interests, or favorite memories.

• Store it in a safe location where it will be preserved for the long term.

6. Keep a Family Tradition Alive

Maintaining a tradition preserves continuity that they can return to in the future. For example, this could be:

• Lighting a candle for them during a holiday dinner.

• Making a dish they loved or a recipe you once shared.

• Hanging a stocking with their name

• Putting up a small framed photo.

When your child reunites with you, continue the tradition with them so they can feel included in the family rituals.

7. Create a “Future Together” List

This practice grounds you in hope and prepares you for the day they may reconnect.

• Write down places you want to take them.

• List experiences you want to share or skills you want to teach.

• Add to the list each year as life evolves.

If you are creating a legacy box, you can add this list to the box.

8. Make Space for Both Grief and Joy

Celebrating your child doesn’t erase the pain, but it makes room for both truths to coexist.

• Take time during the holidays to acknowledge the grief honestly.

• Engage in one activity that brings you genuine comfort.

• Use mindfulness practices, such as journaling, meditation, and creating artwork, to help yourself process your emotions.

• Share your feelings with a supportive friend, therapist, or group.

2025 Reflections

From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you for supporting Shortening the Red Thread this year.

Around December last year, I had an idea to write a book sharing my experiences, ideas, and solutions regarding alienation, but I wasn’t sure where to start, which is what led to this newsletter. Here, I get excellent feedback from all of you, which helps me know what is helpful and what is not.

I genuinely want this book to be a tool that reunites families, which is a considerable moonshot, but with your feedback and support, I feel it is getting more and more achievable.

I have spent a considerable amount of time compiling a list of topics on alienation that I believe will provide powerful insights for parents. This includes but is not limited to:

• How to communicate with children who go no contact.

• The fears of going through the family court system vs trying to resolve the alienation yourself.

• Estrangement vs alienation.

• A survival guide for alienated kids who know they are being alienated.

• A deep dive into understanding how mind games work, so you know what kinds of traps to avoid.

• A beginner’s “I’m being alienated, now what do I do?” post

• And much more…

I will also be preparing to conduct interviews for the book, but I am saving up for lawyer fees so that I can get a release form template.

Before I sign off for 2025, I want to say one more time that your child needs you more than you know. I cannot quite articulate how much I needed my mother when I left my alienator in 2013, but time and time again, I am reminded just how deep the emotional wounds go. Even when I think I am doing well, if I sit with the fears and insecurities that lie hidden in the abyss of my subconscious, I feel terrified of losing my mother again.

So, as you enter this holiday season, take a moment and honor your child, and then celebrate with your loved ones. Let your child know what strength and courage looks like in the face of adversity.

Happy belated Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, Happy Birthday to those celebrating, and warm wishes for a peaceful New Year, a meaningful Hanukkah, a bright Kwanzaa, and gentle strength through all the holidays this season.

And may the years ahead bring you answers, peace, and pure joy.

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

Are you a writer on Substack?

If you write articles on alienation or estrangement, let me know! I would be happy to exchange recommendations to better support our readers.

If you are a general reader who writes about other topics on Substack, please consider recommending Shortening the Red Thread, as that helps other parents find this newsletter so they can get the support they need to reunite.

As always, I deeply appreciate your support and am grateful for your feedback as I develop these articles.

I am happy to announce that I was included as a guest author in Building Bridges of Hope Volume 2, published by Hope4Families and Kids Need Both on November 28th, 2025.

I am one of many authors in this anthology, alongside experts like Dawn Endria McCarty, Dr. Alyse Price-Tobler, Danica Joan Dockery, John Stenner Hamel Jr., and many more.

I retain rights over my chapter, so I have copied it below for you to read for free. With that said, I encourage you to get a copy of the book, as it offers many other powerful insights from my co-authors. I do not make anything from book sales, save for the small Amazon affiliate commission if you purchase it by clicking the button below.

Get Your Copy Today

If money is tight, there is a short-term promotion where you can get the book for free on Kindle. All you need to do is go to the Amazon page and select “Buy now with one click.”

Make sure the price listed is $0.00 to ensure you are getting the Kindle free. Remember, this promotion will only be available until Saturday, December 6th, 2025.

Once you claim the free Kindle version (or if you buy it after the promotion), you can access it here. Physical copies are also available at a reduced price for a limited time only.

Get Your Copy Today

Another way you can support the book at no cost is to suggest it to your local library for inclusion in their system. Some libraries don’t take donations, but you can ask them to purchase the book so that it is available for the public to read. Every library system might be different, so ask the front desk first what their policies are regarding adding books to their system.

If you are a long-time reader of Shortening the Red Thread, you may see some recurring themes in this chapter that I have covered in previous articles. While some of it may be a review, the essence remains critical to reuniting with your alienated child. But you will also see some newer ideas shared below, particularly the story about Franz Kafka and the little girl who lost her doll.

I was also interviewed by the book team on November 29th. You can view the entire interview below, and for your convenience, the time stamp for my portion starts at 1:24:58.

As always, I hope this is helpful in your journey to reunification. Enjoy the chapter, and stay tuned for the upcoming December edition of STRT, which will be published on December 1st at 10 am ET.

Roots and Wings

There is a famous story about the writer Franz Kafka and a little girl who had lost her doll. Kafka was strolling through a park in Berlin one day when he came across a young girl crying because she had lost her doll. Kafka helps her look, and unfortunately, they couldn’t find the doll.

And so, he tells her, “Let’s come back again tomorrow, and we will look again for your doll.”

The next day came, and again, after a long search, they found nothing. However, this time, Kafka hands the girl a letter signed by the doll. The letter says, “Please don’t cry, I went away on a trip. I promise to write to you every week about my adventures.”

And so, every week, Kafka would write a new letter as the doll and read it to her in the park. One day, Kafka buys a new doll and hands it to her. The little girl is puzzled, and she says, “This doesn’t look like my doll at all...”

Kafka reads to her the final letter, where it says, “My travels have changed me, and I don’t look like the doll you remember, but deep inside I am still the same.”

I find the story of parents reuniting with their children after alienation to be similar. Trauma can permanently alter our perspective, and for children, it can shape their outlook on life, influence their worldview as adults, and impact their ability to thrive. No parent wants their child to suffer, and the wounds of being kept apart due to circumstances beyond their control lead to feelings of self-doubt and lost identity.

Not all hope is lost. As a child grows up and leaves an abusive environment—be it from alienation or other forms of child psychological abuse—the parent has a unique opportunity to guide their child toward a life better than what they had left behind. The challenge, though, is threefold:

1. The child the parent sees before them and the one they remember are two different people.

2. The seemingly irrational behavior of the formerly alienated child throws the parent off kilter, leaving the parent feeling anxious, apprehensive, and sometimes afraid of their own child.

3. A parent's capacity to lead their child depends entirely on their ability to lead themselves.

In the case of alienation and child psychological abuse, an adult child will typically leave the abuser after a specific breaking point. This breaking point can be, but is not limited to:

• Repeated fights about personal autonomy and freedom.

• Setting boundaries around verbal and psychological abusive behaviors

• Witnessing verbal and psychological abuse toward loved ones like a child, romantic partner, or other family members. Can be one-time or continuous.

• A collapse of the narrative they were raised with.

• Realizing that “love” was conditional on compliance with the demands of the alienator.

• The emergence of their own identity and the abusive parent’s hostility toward it.

• A pivotal experience outside the home that shows them what healthy looks like.

While any one or combination of these events will lead to the child leaving their abuser, there is no guarantee that they will have the capacity to process their need for healthy boundaries, expectations in a relationship, and self-image. They are likely to be hungry for truth, looking to unravel the narratives that shaped their perception for so long. This brings intense fear as they lose faith in their ability to see reality as it is. They will be doubtful, testing their alienated parent in fear of finding a hidden flaw that would justify the prolonged separation. Little digs and testing behaviors don’t go away until the child learns the parent is safe. When a parent is reuniting with their child after alienation, they have to anticipate these behaviors, while acknowledging that the child they lost is not the child that returned to them.

The realization can be harrowing for a parent, especially when all the promised memories that come with raising a child are taken. We spend 95% of our time with our children between the ages of 0 and 18. After that, they go out and take on the world. Here, the parent has to reconcile that the relationship they could have had with their child has passed, and the present demands a new approach altogether. Reuniting with an alienated child is not merely resuming an interrupted relationship, but rather the beginning of a new one.

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How to Rebuild Your Relationship After Alienation

One misconception about alienation is that parents think they only need to reunite with their child to undo the trauma. Alienation does not end after reunification; it ends with healing. When a child is returning to their alienated parent, they have only experienced unhealthy and toxic relationships. They have little to no bearing in setting up healthy boundaries or meaningful connections with others, especially those who are different from them. This places a great deal of responsibility on the alienated parent, as they will be instrumental in their child’s relational education. The following guidelines are based on anecdotes shared by formerly alienated children and adults, as well as my own experiences.

1. Create a Balance of Family Rituals and Extraordinary Experiences

One of the defining feelings of an alienated child is a sense of apprehension. There is a lurking feeling that something might explode at any moment, and the worst part is that they never know when it will happen. You can become skilled at recognizing the signs of an impending volcanic eruption, but knowing it’s coming does little to mitigate the impending devastation.

The instability and chaos leave the child in a perpetual state of survival mode. When they return to the alienated parent, these skills are brought home with them. They are anticipating you to behave like their abusive parent without even realizing it. To begin repairing and healing your child’s psyche, you must first examine the family rituals and experiences you will introduce into your new relationship.

Family rituals are recurring, mundane events that create a new sense of normal for your child. This can include, but is not limited to:

• Cooking meals for the family.

• Watching shows or movies together.

• Playing games together.

• Attending community events like church together.

• Sending each other photos, videos, or memes regularly.

• Regular phone or video calls.

• Listening to music together.

• Recommending books or other entertainment to each other.

• Performing acts of service (car maintenance, running errands, etc.)

While it may seem small or insignificant at first, these routines give your child something they have rarely had… predictability. Each repeated interaction tells their nervous system that you are steady, reliable, and emotionally safe. Over time, these rituals become the scaffolding that supports deeper conversations, shared vulnerability, and every moment of honesty that follows.

At first, your child is likely to feel like a fish out of water. Between the dread of anticipating conflict and the unworthiness ingrained in their identity, the child may even engage in provocative behavior with the intent of testing whether you are who you say you are. Their questions may feel loaded. Their tone may feel sharp. They may withdraw abruptly, escalate minor issues, or interpret neutral moments as rejection. None of this is personal, and most of it is unconscious behavior. It is an attempt to confirm or disprove the internal narrative they were raised with.

With enough consistency, the mundane family rituals will become part of their comfort zone. They will participate more and will think about them when they are feeling down. If you take a moment to think about your favorite moments with your loved ones, you might think about small moments of sharing good food, conversations with friends or family, or evenings spent together without anything remarkable happening.

These moments stay with us because they are emotionally safe and secure. They allow us to relax, to breathe, and to feel connected without effort. For an alienated child, these moments become corrective experiences. They slowly overwrite the internal expectation that relationships are unpredictable, volatile, or conditional. As these routines become established, you may notice your child initiating them on their own. They might send the first text, suggest watching a movie, or ask to grab dinner. These small shifts signal that the relationship feels less like walking on broken glass and more like a place they can return to without fear of harm. The rituals give them something to hold on to.

In addition to family rituals, you will also need to make room for extraordinary experiences. These moments break the rhythm just enough to show your child that life with you is not limited to routine. Extraordinary experiences do not need to be expensive or dramatic. They simply need to be different from the daily pattern.

Examples of extraordinary experiences include, but are not limited to:

• Going on a vacation together.

• Attending an uncommon event like a concert or sporting event.

• Trying a new restaurant together.

• Visiting a museum, exhibit, or cultural festival.

• Spending a day exploring a nearby city or town.

• Taking a class or workshop together, such as cooking, pottery, or art.

• Going on a hike, nature walk, or outdoor adventure.

• Participating in a volunteer activity or community project.

• Attending a family celebration or meaningful tradition.

• Sharing a special milestone experience, like a graduation or ceremony.

These experiences create contrast. They expand the emotional range of the relationship and help your child associate you with moments of curiosity and enjoyment rather than vigilance or fear. They also offer opportunities for spontaneous connection—laughing together, navigating something unfamiliar, or sharing an environment where the rules of their past do not apply.

What makes these experiences effective is the groundwork laid by your rituals. Without the stability of routine, extraordinary moments can feel overwhelming or performative. But when they are paired with a consistent foundation, they become anchors that your child will remember long after the moment has passed.

2. Communicate With Curiosity

Alienated children often return with a deep fear of being misunderstood, and they will likely assume you will react the way the alienating parent reacted. Even if you have never behaved that way, the child’s nervous system has been trained to prepare for the worst. Curiosity is how you disrupt this pattern. When you communicate with curiosity, you replace assumptions with understanding. You give your child room to express their fears, frustrations, and confusion without feeling judged or corrected. Curiosity is not complicated. It means asking questions that help you see the world through their eyes.

Examples of curious questions include, but are not limited to:

• “Can you tell me more about what you meant?”

• “What feels most important to you about this?”

• “How are you interpreting what happened?”

• “What were you hoping for when you said that?”

• “What would help you feel more comfortable right now?”

Keep in mind that genuine curiosity is a new experience for your alienated child. They may worry that you are digging for information that can be used against them. The alienator commonly does this, so their fears are warranted. Over time, especially when paired with consistent family rituals, you can alleviate that fear and show them that you are not trying to win an argument, attack them, or force a particular narrative. You are trying to understand them as they are now.

Alienated children often struggle to articulate their emotions. Their communication may feel indirect, sharp, vague, or defensive. Instead of challenging their tone or content, you can reflect their emotions back to them so they feel seen. This helps them regulate without feeling pressured.

Examples of emotional reflections include, but are not limited to:

• “It sounds like you’re feeling overwhelmed.”

• “It seems like that situation caught you off guard.”

• “It sounds like you’re worried about being misunderstood.”

• “It seems like you’re frustrated that this keeps happening.”

These reflections signal that you are not only paying attention but also trying to understand their experience. By asking questions and deepening your understanding of their experience, you avoid one of the greatest pitfalls alienated parents face… being stonewalled after misinterpreting their emotional state. Curiosity also protects the relationship from unnecessary escalation. When your child senses that you are seeking to understand rather than defend, they begin to feel more relaxed. They feel less need to posture, test, or brace themselves. Over time, this approach teaches them that difficult conversations do not lead to punishment or humiliation, but to clarity.

The goal is not to interrogate or analyze them. Your goal is to create an emotional environment where honesty feels possible. Curiosity gives your child the freedom to reveal who they have become, and it allows you to build a relationship with the adult in front of you—not the child you lost, and not the child you hoped they would be.

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3. Co-Create the Relationship

When an alienated child returns (especially after many years), both of you are stepping into a space that no longer resembles the relationship you once had. The longer the separation, the more difficult it becomes to slip back into family roles. The parental authority that would have felt natural years ago now feels awkward, artificial, or even intrusive, and the child has grown up with one or more surrogates to fill in your absence. That is just the reality of alienation. Your child has spent years navigating life without you as an authority figure. They learned to make decisions, handle conflict, and form their worldview without your guidance. Trying to step back into a traditional parenting role often creates tension because it clashes with the identity they built in your absence. This is why co-creation matters.

Co-creating the relationship means letting go of the fantasy that you can return to the past. Instead, you build something new together based on who both of you are now. You are not parenting a young child. You are creating a bond with an adult who carries wounds, questions, and a lifetime of narratives about who you are. At this stage of life, your role shifts from that of an authoritative parental figure to a wise mentor who appears when the student is ready. You offer guidance without forcing it and provide stability without demanding authority. You remain a source of wisdom, encouragement, and clarity, but you do so with the humility of someone joining a story in the middle.

Examples of co-creation may include:

• Deciding how often to communicate and at what pace feels comfortable for both of you.

• Discussing what kind of support they want from you now, not what you used to give.

• Being honest about what feels hard for each of you without placing blame.

• Choosing meaningful rituals and experiences that fit your present, not your past.

• Agreeing on how to navigate misunderstandings or emotional flare-ups.

Co-creation does not diminish your identity as a parent. Yes, it will be different than the relationships of a typical parent and child, but it will be your relationship. You are building something new with foundations strong enough to hold the weight of the years you lost and the trauma both of you endured. When both of you contribute to shaping this new relationship, you create a connection that is honest, flexible, and capable of growing with you for the rest of your lives.

4. Take Ownership of Your Emotions

Many parents ask, “What about me? What about my emotions? What about all the things I suffered and endured during the alienation and with the alienator?”

And they are right to ask these questions. The burden and traumas of alienation also affect them. The fear, helplessness, and grief of being cut out of your child’s life—none of that disappears simply because the child has returned. Those wounds live in the mind and body, and they deserve real acknowledgment. But this is where parents must understand the distinction between what belongs to them and what belongs to their child.

Your emotions from the alienation are yours to carry, process, and heal. The years of confusion, the invalidation from the system, the pressure to stay composed in the face of injustice—these experiences demand their own space. They require support, understanding, and often professional help. They may also require you to share your story with people who can hold its weight.

Your child cannot hold that weight for you.

Not because they don’t care, and not because your emotions are too much, but because they are still untangling their own feelings. They are still trying to understand what was real, what was distorted, and who they are now that they have left the alienating environment. If you place your emotional burden on them, even unintentionally, they may feel responsible for your pain. That responsibility overwhelms them and reinforces the very dynamic they are trying to escape. When you show your child that you have taken ownership and accountability over your emotions, you are modeling what emotional maturity looks like in real time.

This does not mean suppressing your emotions or pretending you are unaffected by the past. It means knowing where to bring them and how to hold them. Sometimes that means speaking with a therapist. Other times, it means leaning on a friend, a spouse, or a support group. Sometimes it means taking a moment alone to steady your breathing before responding. You do this work so that when your child looks at you, they see a steady presence rather than a fragile one. They see someone capable of guiding them without losing control or defaulting to shame.

Roots and Wings

When an alienated child breaks free, multiple emotions take hold—loss of identity, aimlessness, apprehension, and overwhelm. In short, they have played the role of the alienated child for so long that they don’t know who they are. For a child to succeed in the world, they need to have the stability of roots and the courage of wings. Alienation gives them neither. Their roots were severed through manipulation, fear, and distorted narratives. Their wings were clipped by conditional love, emotional volatility, and the constant threat of punishment for having an independent identity. When they return to you, consciously or not, they are searching for both.

There is a famous poem by Kahlil Gibran that encapsulates our role as parents. While we hope our children will grow in the direction we envision, life rarely unfolds as we expect. Alienation forces every member of a family into roles they never chose, and the return from that story requires courage from the parent first. We must be willing to face the challenge before us, not only for our own healing, but also for our children and their future children, who will inherit the family patterns we either confront or pass down.

On Children by Kahlil Gibran

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, Speak to us of Children.

And he said:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;

For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Get Your Copy Today

Liked the Bonus Chapter? Here are Some Other Articles I Have Written that Go Into Greater Depth On the Same Topics.

1. Finding Meaning in Alienation When All Hope is Lost

2. How to Talk With Your Alienated Child When They Don’t Want to Talk To You

3. Seeing through the Eyes of the Alienated Child

4. Finding Love After Alienation Part I

5. Finding Love After Alienation Part II

6. Finding Love After Alienation Part III

Are you a writer on Substack?

If you write articles on alienation or estrangement, let me know! I would be happy to exchange recommendations to better support our readers.

If you are a general reader who writes about other topics on Substack, please consider recommending Shortening the Red Thread, as that helps other parents find this newsletter so they can get the support they need to reunite.

As always, I deeply appreciate your support and am grateful for your feedback as I develop these articles.

Dinner for the Lions

When I was in school, English exams were split into three segments: Compositions, Comprehension, and Oral.

English Comprehension was easily the hardest of the three, given that we had to read essays rich in subtext and interpret the motifs to understand the story better. The exam questions were never as simple as recounting the events in the story—we had to identify and infer the layered meanings that the author had carefully scaffolded into the story. And we only had an hour to answer all the questions.

One of the stories that has stuck with me is “The Veldt” by Ray Bradbury. It is a short science fiction story about a wealthy couple who have purchased an expensive Smart Home, equipped with technology capable of performing their household chores, preparing food, and featuring a nursery that recreates interactive environments to create a lifelike experience on command.

Their children were raised in this automated environment, with the nursery becoming their sanctuary. The room used advanced technology to render vivid, lifelike simulations based on their thoughts. At first, it served as a playground for their imagination. But slowly, the nursery stopped reflecting their childlike wonder and began projecting their darker fantasies.

One day, the parents enter the nursery to see the African veldt, where vultures circled and lions ate their prey. At first, they assume it is a phase. Unfortunately, they never put the clues together that this environment was a reflection of their children’s true thoughts of them. In the end, the children lock the parents in the nursery, where the rendered lions are very much real.

By then, it is too late. The parents realize that the African veldt was a visual simulation of them being hunted and killed by lions…only this time, their fantasy had been manifested into reality. They could not manually override the nursery to shut it down, and the children relished in the dying screams of their parents.

I used to think a lot about this story because the idea of children hating their parents so much that they would resort to violent murder never sat well with me. I read this story for the first time when I was an alienated child, and I don’t think I would have wished that on my alienated mother.

As I grew older, I learned to understand the subtext of the story. On the surface, The Veldt reads as a warning about over-reliance on technology, but at its heart, it is also about emotional displacement—the slow transfer of attachment from parent to proxy. The parents in the story outsource nurturing to the machine, and in doing so, surrender the authority and intimacy that make parenting real. Their comfort and guilt drive them toward permissiveness; rather than guide their children through frustration or boundaries, they allow the nursery to pacify every feeling.

Alienation is not that much different. An alienated child projects their anger onto the parent not only because of manipulation from an external force but because the emotional scaffolding between them has already weakened. When the targeted parent finally tries to intervene—often with the conviction that they are “doing what’s best”—it’s met with resistance that feels wildly disproportionate. Each attempt to repair the bond seems only to confirm the child’s rejection. You begin to wonder when, exactly, you lost your place as a parent, and how something so natural became so adversarial.

In that sense, Bradbury’s story captures a psychological truth more than a technological one…alienation doesn’t erupt overnight. It unfolds gradually, in the quiet collisions between stress, exhaustion, and good intentions. Parents don’t set out intentionally to create distance. They adapt to circumstances that often leave them with impossible choices, where they must choose between working longer hours, relying on screens to calm their child, or trading presence for stability. Over time, these small concessions accumulate, and the emotional thread between parent and child frays. By the time you notice how far things have drifted, the veldt is already alive around you.

The Overwhelming Systemic Challenges for Modern Parents

No matter where you are in the world or the circumstances of your life, everyone has problems. We are all striving to earn enough money to live a meaningful life, support our loved ones, and find purpose in the process.

No one gets the same starting point, which can undoubtedly be vexing for those who are born in unlucky circumstances. Some inherit wealth, stability, and safety nets. Others begin life already in deficit—of time, energy, or opportunity—and spend decades trying to catch up. But regardless of where we start, most parents end up fighting the same two battles: one against the external world that demands more than they can give, and another within themselves as they try to stay emotionally whole while doing it.

These battles are exacerbated by alienation. Having your kids taken away depletes you of your sense of purpose and willpower. However, you don’t get many options. Parents are forced to juggle the complexity of being a modern adult while navigating the uncertainty brought by alienation.

While the first part of the article does not speak about alienation directly, it speaks to the challenges modern parents face every day. Knowing these challenges places you at a fork in the road. You either fold or play your hand with the intention to win, no matter how bad your cards are.

My goal is to empower you to do the latter.

External Challenges of Modern Parenting

The external challenges of parenting today are less about personal failings and more about the systems parents are forced to survive within. The modern world has created an environment where it is nearly impossible to raise children without feeling perpetually behind, guilty, or afraid. Every external structure—economic, social, educational, and cultural—demands more from parents while giving less in return. As a result, both the parents and children suffer.

Here are the challenges I see modern parents facing today:

1. Economic Precarity and the Rising Cost of Living

2. The Erosion of Community and Support Systems

3. Institutional Substitution of Parental Roles

4. The Pendulum Swing to Hyper-Protection of Kids

5. Gendered Double Binds in the Workplace

6. Information Overload, Moral Confusion, and Digital Media

7. The Commodification of Childhood

8. Breakdown of Trust between the Sexes

9. The Intellectualization of Trauma Psychology

10. Family Court, CPS, and Legal Challenges

Let’s go through each of them in detail.

Economic Precarity and the Rising Cost of Living

The modern economy is built on dual incomes. A single-earner household, once the norm, has become nearly impossible to sustain unless one partner holds a top-tier job. In 2024, the median household income for first-time home buyers reached $97,000, yet that figure still falls short against record housing costs and high interest rates—mortgage rates averaged 7.02 percent, peaking at 7.79 percent during the year.1

Housing prices continue to climb, with an average price point of new constructions at $512,2002, excluding the costs to maintain a home. Zillow estimates that homeowners have about $14,000/year of hidden home maintenance costs (higher in metro areas), and these prices rise with inflation.3

Here are some frequent repair costs:

• Roof: $6K–$13K replacement | every 20–30 yrs

• HVAC: $70–$200 annual tune-ups | replace every 15–20 yrs

• Plumbing: $150–$500 minor repairs | major $1K–$5K as needed

• Water Heater: $800–$1.8K replace | every 8–12 yrs

• Electrical: $300–$1K repairs | rewire $5K–$15K every 30–50 yrs

• Lawn & Landscaping: $500–$2K per yr | major projects 5–10 yrs

• Appliances: $100–$400 repairs | replace every 10–15 yrs

If you run the numbers, a 97K annual income with a first-time homebuyer loan at 2% down payment can qualify you for a 30-year mortgage loan with 7% interest, ranging approximately between 235K-290K, depending on your credit health, location, and other financial markers. The estimated minimum mortgage payment comes out to roughly $2100/month. 512K-290K is $220,000 short, which means you won’t be buying your newly constructed dream house anytime soon. This means you will have to buy a smaller home, change locations, or buy an older home (which is likely to need more immediate repairs). Sure, these numbers will change as the Fed lowers the national interest rate, but this is just a ballpark figure.

But housing is only one piece of the squeeze. Childcare costs now rival a second mortgage. According to the US Dept of Labor, 8.9% - 16.0% of the median household income is spent on full-day care for just one child, with annual prices ranging from $6,552 to $15,600 in 2022.4 The average costs decrease once the child enters school.

Groceries have risen sharply since 2020. Just the other day, I noticed that a box of orange juice had been reduced from 64 oz to 59 oz, yet it still carried the same high price. Healthcare premiums continue to outpace wage growth. Each necessity drains time and income, leaving parents with less margin for recovery or rest. Survival in the current economy requires both parents to work full-time, yet the very act of working leaves them with little energy to parent the children they’re working to sustain.

The pressure is uneven. In high-cost metro areas, homeownership costs are even higher per square foot, while renters face rental rates that are rising faster than their wages. Families without generational wealth or family support often fall into a cycle of debt dependency, where they work to pay interest rather than build stability or their retirement.

If the individual has incurred exorbitant student debt, their monthly payments can easily exceed what they can afford. In that case, most of their payment may only cover the interest, with little or nothing going toward the principal, making real progress on the loan nearly impossible, especially if they are unable to find a high-paying job in their field after graduation. Typically, you still need to climb the corporate ladder if you want to get a high-paying job. Unless you are graduating from an Ivy League University, you are competing with potentially hundreds of applicants.

Beyond money, time itself has become a scarce resource. Commutes, long work hours, and the mental load of constant multitasking leave many parents living in a perpetual state of triage.

The Erosion of Community and Support Systems

Third spaces—parks, libraries, cafés, and churches—where people once built relationships outside home and work have quietly vanished. Individualism has replaced community, and families find themselves raising children in social isolation. The old village has collapsed; family support now depends on whether grandparents are emotionally mature, geographically close, and healthy enough to help. For those outside these circumstances, there is no safety net.

Even when extended family exists, help is not guaranteed. Many grandparents are still working into their seventies to offset retirement insecurity. Emotional immaturity, ideological rifts, or sheer burnout can make them unreliable caregivers.

The absence of shared community compounds every other pressure. Without someone to watch the kids, errands pile up. Without trusted friends nearby, emotional breakdowns happen alone. Without local role models, children’s social lives are outsourced to screens.

Institutional Substitution of Parental Roles

Teachers, daycare staff, and coaches have become stand-ins for parental presence. This is an adaptation to the current economic constraints surrounding parents today. Most parents return from work exhausted, juggling chores, finances, and logistics, leaving little energy for connection. So where do the kids go? Educational institutions—schools, daycare centers, aftercare programs—that were never designed to carry the emotional, moral, or developmental weight of a family.

The cracks are showing. Many children now arrive at school with limited emotional regulation and underdeveloped coping skills. Teachers report that basic classroom norms—listening, focus, patience—have eroded, especially after COVID-19.5 Attempts to discipline or set boundaries are often met with aggression from parents, not support. In trying to defend their child, parents unintentionally undermine the very structure that helps the child grow.

At the same time, many children are emotionally raising each other online. According to a Morning Consult study of 1,000 Gen Z respondents, 57% of kids now say they want to become influencers,6 signaling a generational shift from vocational aspiration to performative identity. The screen has become both teacher and mirror—one that rewards attention instead of reflection.

Academically, the data are equally sobering. The 2024 State of the American Student report found that the average student has recovered less than half of pandemic learning losses. Literacy and math scores remain below pre-pandemic levels. Only about one-third of students have regained prior proficiency in math, and a quarter in reading. Younger children, especially those in elementary grades, are falling further behind in foundational skills, with researchers warning that many have “missed a critical window” for cognitive development.

These academic setbacks intertwine with deeper social and emotional deficits. Classrooms have become triage centers for stress and attention disorders, while teachers—80% of whom report feeling overwhelmed—struggle to manage behavioral outbursts and disengagement. Chronic absenteeism has nearly doubled since 2020, and a generation of children has learned that showing up—physically or emotionally—is optional.7

The Pendulum Swing to Hyper-Protection of Kids

In previous generations, children roamed freely—biking across town, exploring woods, and learning resilience through independence. Today, that same freedom could result in a parent’s arrest for willful negligence.

Take the story of Lenore Skenazy as an example.

When Lenore let her 9-year-old son ride the New York subway alone, she was branded “America’s Worst Mom.”8 It didn’t matter that her son had the maturity to handle himself in the real world, the mere possibility of danger was enough to bring about public outrage. Fear of litigation and public shaming has turned childhood exploration into a legal hazard, forcing parents to raise children in a climate of suspicion rather than trust. Parenting has become defensive instead of developmental.

This pendulum swing toward hyper-protection is rooted in collective trauma and amplified by the media. Stories of child predators, abduction, and abuse dominate headlines and online discourse, conditioning parents to see danger everywhere. The result is a culture where trust is treated as recklessness. Parents who deviate from the norm risk being reported to Child Protective Services or ostracized by their community.

Yet balance still matters. The goal is not to abandon caution, but to remember that freedom is an integral part of development. Without small doses of risk, children never learn competence, and parents never learn to trust.

When I was a child, some of my favorite memories were of sleepovers at friends’ houses. Those nights gave me something I rarely had at home—a sense of ease. Away from the tension of alienation, I could watch how other families lived, how they laughed together, how they disagreed and made up. I loved sleepovers because, for a few hours, I could just be myself. Today, many parents avoid them altogether, fearing the possibility of child sexual abuse.

These fears also extend to sports and other extracurricular activities. Cases like disgraced Penn State assistant football coach Jerry Sandusky’s conviction of 45 counts of child sexual abuse or Larry Nassar, who is alleged to have sexually assaulted hundreds of gymnasts over the course of two decades, are paralyzing to parents.

How do you adequately protect your child from these kinds of people? What do you do as a parent when you look up the sex offender registry in your area and see far too many red dots?

For this reason, government and legal institutions have upped the ante in an attempt to stop these abuses from happening, but even then, there are no guarantees.

So on one hand, you cannot expose your child to danger to teach them how to be self-sufficient without legal repercussions. And on the other hand, predators lurk about, escaping punishment for far too long.

Gendered Double Binds in the Workplace

Motherhood and fatherhood both exist within frameworks that undermine them, and by extension, the family. Mothers (particularly in the US) are granted at most a mere 90 days of maternity leave—frequently unpaid—while fathers receive little or none, forcing mothers to shoulder the early burden of care. During the first three years of life, when attachment is most critical to a child’s emotional development, this imbalance takes a lasting toll, especially if the mother does not have support networks in place. Attachment theory tells us that secure bonds in infancy (especially with the mother) form the foundation for a child’s emotional regulation, trust, and resilience later in life. When mothers are pressured back to work before that bond fully stabilizes, or when caregiving must be handed to strangers in the name of financial survival, the relationship becomes fragmented, resulting in the child being more likely to develop attachment issues growing up.

For mothers, the economic design leaves few real choices. Given the cost of living, many mothers return to work out of necessity rather than desire. Those who stay home often face career penalties that can take decades to recover from, especially after divorce or widowhood. Either path carries loss—the loss of time with their children, or the loss of financial independence. Pick your poison.

Fathers, meanwhile, face a different kind of crucifixion. The modern economy is built for dual incomes, but still expects men to be the primary providers. A father who wants to be more present must often do so at the expense of his career trajectory or family finances. In practice, this means most fathers are locked into the provider role, their worth measured by income rather than presence at home. They are told to “support the family,” yet the system ensures that this very act keeps them absent from it.

As a father myself, I find it troubling that I am always working when I would rather spend more time with my family. However, I was a late bloomer in my career due to the lagging start caused by alienation, so I don’t have much choice but to push hard now so that my daughter can have a better life than I did.

Ultimately, both parents are working against a structure that prioritizes productivity over presence. Without community support or workplace flexibility, they are stretched beyond capacity—each doing their best to hold a family together within an economy that quietly works against them.

The financial and emotional issues take a toll on the marriage and their capacity to parent. Left unchecked, they sow the seeds for divorce down the road.

Information Overload, Moral Confusion, and Digital Media

Parents are bombarded with contradictory advice on every subject—from screen time to gender identity to nutrition—each backed by influencers claiming expertise. Social media algorithms amplify whatever generates the most engagement, not what’s true.

For example, according to a 2024 study, 52% of TikTok videos about ADHD were misleading, and 27% contained inaccurate medical advice.9

We can assume that the veracity of content on parenting is likely to be similar. Videos may layer subtle sales techniques into “advice,” pushing products that promise to fix behavioral problems or accelerate child development. Parent influencers often present themselves as experts (usually coaches, educators, or therapists), yet their guidance is frequently shaped by personal experience, not evidence.

You might find videos debating the nuances of “gentle parenting,” while others promote strict discipline, and still others claim that too much empathy leads to weakness. Each philosophy gains traction not because it’s effective, but because it’s provocative. Algorithms reward polarization. The more extreme the take, the more engagement it earns.

Caught in this crossfire, parents lose trust in their own instincts. They scroll endlessly for reassurance but find anxiety instead. The result is a generation of parents who feel perpetually inadequate. Despite being armed with information, they are starved of wisdom.

This is not to say there are no good videos or articles out there. Instead, what works for some people is likely to have a different outcome for others. Also, semantics play a massive role in our understanding of the content being shared.

Just think about how many videos or articles you might have seen where it starts with, “[Topic] is not what you think it is… it is actually this….”

That constant redefinition erodes confidence and clarity. The more parents consume, the less confident they feel about what’s right for their own child.

Entertainment media compounds the problem by distorting the emotional baseline of relationships. Sitcoms caricature spouses as incompetent or manipulative. News cycles thrive on outrage. Online fiction and fan communities romanticize cheating or emotional detachment. Pornography reduces intimacy to a biological function, while romance novels idealize betrayal as passionate love. The fantasy of control or the perfect rescue seduces both sexes into thinking that is the missing piece in their relationship, often with dire consequences.

Very few stories model what real love looks like, where it is slow, patient, and imperfect. Films like About Time, When Harry Met Sally, or Before Sunrise stand out precisely because they center on emotional presence rather than sensational conflict. Yet these are the exceptions, not the rule. Conflict sells better than connection, and so connection fades from the cultural imagination.

The deeper tragedy is that these fantasies speak to unmet needs. Both men and women long to feel desirable, loved, respected, and emotionally safe. When these needs aren’t met in reality, they migrate online, forming parasocial attachments to creators, characters, or ideologies that offer validation without needing to be vulnerable themselves.

This serves as a proxy for a real relationship, with the kids growing up watching their parents embody it.

The Commodification of Childhood

Children are profitable, and childhood has become a competitive marketplace.

Education, sports, and extracurriculars are no longer experiences—they are investments meant to yield performance. Parents feel compelled to optimize their children’s lives like portfolios, fearing that any gap might foreclose future opportunity. Even play is packaged and monetized. The result is a subtle but pervasive shift: love becomes management, and childhood becomes a brand.

The shape of this commodification varies across cultures. In the United States, the arms race centers on college admissions, where the average cost of attendance now exceeds $38,270 per year—or more than $150,000 for a single bachelor’s degree.10 Parents who came of age when a degree guaranteed stability still see college as the safest path to security, even as that promise collapses under student debt and wage stagnation. The child, raised to believe they are “investing in their future,” instead inherits a financial trap.

Social media deepens the pressure. Parents scroll through highlight reels of other families’ achievements and quietly ask themselves, Am I doing enough? The shame of falling behind—financially, socially, or emotionally—cuts deep. Those without the means to compete feel guilt; those who can afford to compete often feel hollow.

This cycle of optimization disguises itself as love, but it teaches children a dangerous lesson that affection must be earned through achievement.

Breakdown of Trust between the Sexes

Modern dating has been reshaped by mutual suspicion. Across genders, people approach each other more out of fear than curiosity. On the male side, red-pill communities and online echo chambers stoke resentment and distrust toward women. On the female side, viral debates like “man versus bear” reflect deep cultural anxiety about male violence.

Each gender absorbs horror stories that confirm its worst anxieties.

For women, the fear is tragically well-founded.

• Gisèle Pelicot, a 72-year-old French woman, was secretly drugged by her husband for nearly a decade and raped by dozens of men he recruited online. When the truth surfaced, over fifty men were convicted, including her husband, who received twenty years in prison. Pelicot waived her anonymity, insisting that the world see what was done to her.

• Elisabeth Fritzl, held captive by her father in Austria for 24 years, was raped repeatedly, forced to bear his children, and hidden beneath the family home while her father deceived neighbors and authorities alike.

• Chahinez Daoud, a young mother in France, was set on fire in the street by her ex-husband after years of domestic abuse and failed protection orders. Her murder became a symbol of institutional neglect toward victims of femicide.

Each story reinforces the collective terror that intimacy can turn fatal—that the person you love might also be the one who destroys you.

For men, the fear takes a different form.

• Gary Dotson was convicted of rape in 1979 and spent six years in prison before DNA evidence exonerated him—the first American ever cleared of a rape conviction by genetic testing.

• Christopher Travis Jones, a devoted father from Bradford County, Florida, was shot and killed at a daycare while picking up his two children. As he buckled them into the car, their mother, Mindy Osteen, approached, hugged the children, and then pulled a gun from her bag. Witnesses say Jones tried to flee, but Osteen fired multiple shots, trapping him inside the daycare entryway. As she reloaded, she shouted, “Please, let the monster die.” Jones, bleeding and terrified, managed only to respond, “I’m not killing nobody.” He later died from his injuries. Six other children and two staff members witnessed the scene.

• Johnny Depp, though not a case of wrongful imprisonment, became the modern symbol of reputational collapse by accusation alone. His defamation trial against Amber Heard unfolded under global scrutiny, showing how public narrative and social media can convict a person long before the law does.

These stories linger in the male psyche as warnings that accusation itself—true or false—can end a man’s life or destroy him socially, professionally, and/or financially.

This breakdown of trust reverberates far beyond the courtroom. The myth that “half of all marriages end in divorce” still dominates cultural imagination, though social scientists have long disproved it. Divorce rates peaked in the 1980s and have declined ever since. About 70 percent of marriages begun in the 1990s reached their fifteenth anniversary, and those formed in the 2000s are even more stable. Yet fear of divorce, betrayal, and exposure persists. Many postpone marriage indefinitely, waiting for emotional or financial safety that rarely arrives.11

Paradoxically, as divorce declines, marriage itself becomes rarer. Economic precarity, ideological division, and algorithmic echo chambers all reinforce isolation. The institution built to bind love now feels like a liability.

Both sexes are haunted by different ghosts—women by violence, men by vilification—and both are reacting to genuine wounds. The sad part is that the majority of men and women in the world are good people who are building walls due to the actions of the minority. Love has become a risk assessment.

When these fears are triggered during marriage, arguments between spouses become more volatile, making it far more challenging for couples to resolve their differences because they are both in a survival state.

The Intellectualization of Trauma Psychology

Mental health awareness has become mainstream. Terms like “gaslighting,” “attachment style,” and “trauma response” now circulate in everyday conversation. This shift has helped reduce stigma, but it’s also created a new distortion known as the intellectualization of trauma. In trying to understand emotional pain, many have begun to analyze it instead of feeling it.

Intellectualization, in psychological terms, is a defense mechanism to manage anxiety or grief by turning emotion into abstraction. A person may be able to explain their trauma in perfect academic language, yet remain untouched by it internally. They can quote therapists, cite research, and diagnose their loved ones, but still struggle to sit with pain, forgive, or reconnect. Knowledge replaces processing. Healing becomes theoretical.

A perfect example of this dynamic appears in the film Good Will Hunting. Will, a brilliant but emotionally guarded young man, hides behind his intellect, dissecting everything he encounters through logic and analysis. In a pivotal scene, his therapist Sean confronts him in a park, saying:

“You’re a tough kid. And if I asked you about art, you’d probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written… But I bet you can’t tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You’ve never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling.”

Sean’s point cuts to the heart of intellectualization. Will knows about life but hasn’t lived it. He uses knowledge to protect himself from emotional pain. Many people do the same with trauma—they can name their attachment style but can’t sit through a hard conversation; they can recognize a trigger but can’t stay present through it.

This dynamic is reinforced by the medicalization of normal emotion, a process that has become immensely profitable. Sadness becomes depression, restlessness becomes ADHD, and everyday stress becomes anxiety disorder. Each new label opens a pipeline for therapy sessions, coaching programs, and pharmaceutical subscriptions. Parents who hesitate to pathologize are judged as neglectful, while those who comply often feel they’ve surrendered their child’s development to professionals. The line between care and commerce blurs.

Over time, families internalize the belief that discomfort is something to eradicate rather than understand. Emotional resilience erodes. A bad week is cause for panic, and imperfection becomes pathology.

Online culture amplifies this confusion. Mental health content—often shared by unqualified “keyboard therapists”—turns psychological nuance into moral certainty. Phrases like cut off toxic people or protect your peace become mantras of self-righteous detachment. Ignorance is treated as malice. Children accuse parents of toxicity; parents retreat into guilt or defensiveness, leading to the rise of estrangement.

The irony is painful. The more fluent we become in trauma language, the easier it is to avoid vulnerability. True healing demands something much more complex than knowledge—it requires presence. Until we stop trying to think our way out of pain, we’ll remain trapped inside it.

Since mental health information is widespread, there is an underlying belief that it is common knowledge, leading to a two-part effect.

1. It raises the expectations of the parents' ability to recognize these traits within themselves.

2. It raises our expectations of ourselves beyond what we are currently capable of, leading to an innate belief of unworthiness due to a moving goalpost.

Today, the concept of being a parent has even been called a selfish endeavor, where people would argue that the child “never asked to be brought into the world.”

Take a moment to read that again… as if the gift of life was such a burden or curse thrust upon them. Knowledge without emotional resilience is a slippery slope to nihilism. Many kids who have intellectualized their trauma possess an existential crisis and blame their parents for being inadequate as a means to project their own internal inadequacies. It has contributed to the proliferation of estrangement, bringing about a chicken-or-the-egg situation.

Did the parent fail to instill emotional resilience in the child, or did the child attach themselves to an identity of victimhood that made their growth impossible?

The truth is rarely clean. Some parents made mistakes they never knew how to repair, while others raised children in a culture that rewarded fragility over endurance.

Estrangement becomes the modern excommunication—a way to “cancel” one’s family under the banner of self-preservation. Yet beneath the surface, many estranged children still crave the very relationship they reject, just as many parents ache to reconnect but fear making things worse.

Yet beneath the surface, another darker impulse is emerging, which I call the Fight Club mentality.

It’s the quiet satisfaction people take in watching others fall apart, a modern form of Schadenfreude disguised as justice.

We see it everywhere in the comments sections, cheering someone’s downfall, in the viral videos of public confrontations, in the stories of “toxic parents” or “narcissistic exes” that rack up millions of views. Every collapse becomes content. Every human flaw becomes a lesson for someone else’s moral branding. And if you’ve ever been on the receiving end of that collective pleasure — the subtle delight others take in your suffering — you know how isolating it is.

This Fight Club impulse is about emotional spectacle. It thrives in a culture that has intellectualized pain but forgotten empathy. People feel powerless in their own lives, so they reclaim control by watching someone else lose theirs. They tell themselves it’s accountability, but often it’s vengeance.

The cruel irony is that both sides participate in it — they celebrate when those they dislike fall, and others celebrate when they do. The cycle feeds itself, numbing them further. They stop relating to one another as people and start relating as symbols.

That’s the endpoint of intellectualized trauma. The cycle only breaks when someone stops intellectualizing and starts feeling. That is when awareness turns into responsibility. Healing does not begin in the mind but in the body.

Family Court, CPS, and Legal Challenges

Few forces strain parents more than family court, child protective services, and the legal system. Divorce and custody disputes dissolve marriages and fracture financial stability, emotional safety, and trust in institutions designed to protect families.

In the United States, the average cost of divorce ranges between $10,000 and $15,000, depending on the complexity of the case and the willingness of both parties to cooperate. Attorney fees alone average $150–$400 per hour, with experienced attorneys charging even higher.12 These numbers rise rapidly in contested divorces, where parents cannot agree on custody or property division. It is not uncommon for alienated parents—especially those caught in prolonged litigation—to spend hundreds of thousands, or even millions, of dollars over the course of several years.

Each filing, mediation, and court appearance adds not only financial weight but emotional exhaustion. Beyond attorney and court fees, parents must often pay for psychological evaluations, mediation sessions, custody investigations, parenting coordinators, supervised visitation, and therapy for themselves or their children. Each requirement—framed as a “child-centered safeguard”—also serves as another reminder that their competence as a parent is under scrutiny.

Family court cases involving alienation are particularly brutal. Many parents find themselves trapped in a paradox: the more they fight for their child, the more the system interprets their persistence as instability or control. False accusations of abuse can trigger CPS investigations that leave parents isolated and stigmatized, even when later cleared. The process itself—lengthy, invasive, and public—often does more harm than the initial claim.

The deeper problem is structural, not personal. Family court was not designed to handle chronic psychological manipulation or the emotional nuances of alienation. Its focus on legal fairness often overlooks relational truth. Judges, bound by limited time and evidence, tend to default toward “shared blame” or “parallel parenting” solutions, which often reward the alienating parent’s tactics of obstruction and hostility.

Meanwhile, the alienated parent is expected to stay calm, compliant, and endlessly patient, all while hemorrhaging money, time, and credibility. One emotional outburst, one poorly phrased email, or one misstep in court can be weaponized to fit the alienator’s narrative of unfitness. The process becomes less about justice and more about endurance.

Divorce and custody litigation are, by their nature, asymmetric battles. Those with greater financial, social, and/or emotional resources win by attrition. For parents without those resources, every billable hour cuts deeper into their capacity to fight for reunification.

The Burden of Atlas

Parenting is an incredibly challenging task, even in the best conditions.

Given the pressures described above (economic instability, eroded communities, family court battles, and the emotional violence of alienation), it takes extraordinary courage to keep standing, let alone raise a child prepared to take on the world on their own terms.

I began this article by articulating in extreme detail the challenges facing parents today, as they are real. They go beyond minor inconveniences or petty gripes. Chances are that most of these problems significantly affect you, and it is essential to acknowledge them because that is how you can start planning to address them. Of course, this is before taking into account your alienation from your child.

Alienation and toxic separations can knock any parent off their feet, leaving them wondering whether they still have what it takes to get back up. Between alimony, child support, attorney fees, and the invisible emotional toll, many parents collapse under the sheer weight of survival.

For most parents, every rejection from their alienated child is a knife to the gut, leaving them staring in the mirror, asking themselves, “What’s the point?”

How do you survive in a world where it feels like everything is stacked against you?

Many parents, faced with all these obstacles, lose hope and give up. I cannot tell you how many parents have told me they would die for their child. And I do not say this lightly, many have. Some have taken their life, others have had their life taken from them, and countless more spend decades of their life in an emotional purgatory where they wait to die.

There seems to be this notion that if you martyr yourself, then you have some moral high ground, as if your child would one day realize they were wrong once you are gone…as if suffering publicly would show everyone (including your child) how you were wronged and prove to them what was really going on in the background.

I strongly disagree with this. And it only solidifies the alienator’s hold on your child.

Yes. You are Atlas, carrying the crushing weight of the world with no one to bear that weight for you. That's why I want to say this as loud as I can…

Do not die for your children. Live for them. Live so that you can show them what to do in the face of adversity and impossible odds. Let them see what courage and strength look like so they can find those same values within themselves to end their alienation.

A phoenix endures great pain as it burns itself, but it is reborn in the ashes of its old self and takes on the world again. You too, must be reborn after great strife. That is how you guide your child back to you, regardless of the economic, legal, and social constraints highlighted above.

If you are committed to your reunification, this is what is required. Make no mistake, these are daunting and deceptively simple tasks. However, if you can find the courage and strength to endure the pain of alienation, you can find a way to reunite.

If you’re working multiple jobs, attending every court hearing, documenting everything, going to therapy, and staying consistent with outreach, and you’re still hitting a wall, this next section isn’t for you. You’re already doing the work. Continue doing it and learn from each failure and success so that you can bridge the gap to your child.

But if you find yourself saying, “I can’t do it” or “It’s impossible, my kids will never come back to me…” then you have to ask yourself, are you saying this because it is 100% absolutely true, or is it because it feels unbearable right now?

It is normal to feel overwhelmed, but remember that if you do not believe wholeheartedly in your reunification, then it will be much harder for your child to believe in it.

One way you can frame it is to say to yourself, “One day in the future, my children have reunited with me. I don’t know when that day will be, but every rejection is one step closer to that day. And every day is an act of love where I am preparing for that moment of reunification.”

Talking about mental fortitude in the alienation space is difficult because every parent carries a different history, threshold for pain, and a different set of obstacles. I want to be clear that nothing I’m saying is meant to dismiss your suffering or minimize what you’ve endured.

But I also cannot pretend that avoiding hard truths helps anyone. The longer alienation lasts, the more it harms both you and your child. My intention in everything that follows is to support the parents who are unsure of themselves. I want to help you find enough clarity and confidence to try again, even after being rejected more times than you can count. If you look deep within yourself, you will find that love can help you find the courage and strength to keep moving forward, no matter how hard things get.

Step 1: Avoid the Virtuous Victim Mentality

After being in the alienation movement for about 12 years, I have noticed several patterns among alienated parents, regardless of their background or story.

The ones who reunite are the ones who never stop trying. They pick themselves up after every rejection and keep their momentum going.

I have also seen parents who quit because nothing seemed to be working. They tell themselves, “Well, my child/children will know where to find me…but their minds are too far gone, so they won’t.”

This is especially common in cases where the child is an adult who self-enforces their alienation. Often, it bleeds through into the grandchildren, who are told that their grandparent is someone to be avoided. One of the most common questions parents have is what they should do in situations of severe alienation where the child completely ignores their messages.

Stopping alienation can feel like you are chasing a runaway train on foot, hoping to jump on, get your child off, and return to some semblance of normal life.

At this point, parents will look back on the history of rejection and throw in the towel. They lose hope, and often those depressive feelings will bleed into every facet of their life.

As a frequent reader of Shortening the Red Thread, you will notice that I strive to maintain a strongly optimistic tone in all my articles. Every article is built on the values of showing your child unconditional love, patience, empathy, and wisdom. Why? Two reasons…

1. Grief and depression left unchecked can be catastrophic for your mental health and well-being.

2. Reuniting requires a lot of emotional energy. Emotions like depression drain you of energy. Emotions like anger burn you out or lead to lashing out.
   
   The only emotion that can continue to fuel you indefinitely through hardship is love.

Yes. You were wronged, misjudged, and your child has been taken from you. The legal system likely has mistreated you, friends may have withdrawn or been unsupportive, and even your own child may lie about you. The economic, legal, and social challenges I mentioned earlier are legitimate barriers to your success as a parent.

If you succumb to the narrative that you are the victim of your story—my ex did this, the court did that, my child won’t see me—that becomes part of your identity. It leads others to pity you while offering you no support in your reunification. Misery loves company, so the only people you will attract are people who will try to one-up you on who had it worse.

The virtuous victim is a mentality in which the victim focuses entirely on sharing their pain rather than changing their situation. They share their story with anyone who will listen for sympathy because, as humans, we naturally feel sorry for those who are hurting and admire them for enduring pain. This is a typical response within human neuroscience. Sadness, as an emotion, is often called a cry for help for a reason. Our brains use it to attract others to support us when we are overwhelmed.

But everyone has a threshold for how far they will try to help you before walking away. People want to help, but they also fear making things worse or saying the wrong thing. There is also a give-and-take dynamic (the law of reciprocity). If someone offers support and does not see tangible change or receive a reciprocal action, they will leave.

As a result, the parent in this situation feels dejected, thinking that no one cares and cannot see their pain. They spend their time trapped in liminal grief—a place between mourning and denial where they are constantly reliving the past, even though it will never change.

Nostalgic yearning follows close behind. The parent is longing for how things “used to be,” before alienation took hold. Together, these patterns lock the parent in the past. When they think about their future, they look back at all their failures. Every rejection and insult combined, and they think to themselves, “This is what my future will look like if I keep trying to reconnect with my child.”

This creates an emotional pendulum, with them oscillating between grief and nostalgia. The parent is reinforcing their brain that these two feelings are important, and it shifts their focus away from the present.

What many parents do not realize is that their alienated child will not care if they tell them about how they are a victim of alienation and abuse. That only comes when they choose to reunite with you. Until then, you will only see apathy in their eyes. If you are not prepared to see apathy in their eyes, you are more likely to be emotionally triggered, which often exacerbates alienation. And the thing is, you shouldn’t be going to your child for emotional validation of your pain anyway. Your child is not responsible for your emotions.

Here’s the truth… what you feed your brain determines what it sees.

Repetition teaches our brains that something is important. It can be used for both positive and negative results.

For example, your alienated child has been fed lies about you over and over until those lies became reality to them. They believe it because that is the only thing they have heard, and they have not had an opportunity to see that it is a lie, because they haven’t been around you enough.

The same principle applies to you. If you feed your mind only stories of defeat, you’ll start to see proof of failure everywhere.

That’s why you must deliberately nourish your mind with truth, even when it feels forced or cliché. Listen to motivational talks. Watch educational content that strengthens your perspective. Journal the things you can do, instead of the ones you’ve lost. Rewire your focus from despair to agency. Write down personal affirmations and read them multiple times throughout the day.

It won’t happen overnight, but after about 90 days of consistently feeding your brain positive and motivational content, you will start to believe it. After 180 days, it will feel like second nature. You might not need it as much, since your brain will default to positive thinking.

After 1 - 2 years, you will have rewired your brain and will notice a dramatic shift in your day-to-day mood, despite all the challenges you face.

I speak about this at length in my article, Escaping the Prison of the Mind.

When you fixate on things outside of your control, you surrender your power to external factors. This is also known as an external locus of control.

The internal locus of control is where you focus on what you can do and what you are responsible for. Taking that ownership gives you far more freedom while relieving you of the emotional pressure of feeling powerless. You cannot undo the past, but you can recondition how you interpret it. Every moment you spend strengthening your mind makes you harder to break.

Remember, the past does not equate to the future. And the only way to change the future is to be in the present moment and do something right now.

Now, let me be crystal clear…no one can stop your child’s alienation but you and your child. Not the law, not your favorite politician, not a salesman, and not even me or any formerly alienated kid who shares their insights.

At best, I am a collection of experiences that can help you contextualize what to do next. Shortening the Red Thread exists to help you reclaim your agency, step into your strength, and rebuild the bond with your child. However, it is up to you to commit to taking action and learning from each rejection.

You are the best person to help your child heal from alienation. Not me, not the experts, and not some book. The question then is, are you going to be that person for your child?

If you are committed to doing so, write it down.

Write it on a piece of paper, “I will do whatever it takes, no matter how difficult, to help my child heal from alienation,” and place it somewhere you read it several times a day until it becomes etched into your brain. Read it so many times that there is not even a shred of doubt left.

Because if you commit to being the best version of yourself, you can empower your child, and in doing so, you have already won half the battle.

Again, I understand why some parents stop fighting. The pain is unbearable. The alienator seems to win every time. Your child’s rejection feels permanent, and walking away would hurt less. And in a purely rational calculation of pain versus likely outcome, quitting might even make sense.

But this isn’t a purely rational situation. This is your child. And the path that hurts less in the short term is the one that will haunt you forever.

Some of you are already committed, which means you can jump to step 2.

Step 2: Do the Inner Work Before the Outer Work

When a parent realizes they are alienated from their child, they are usually left with two choices…Seek out support from other alienated parents via support groups or intellectualize their trauma by reading extensively about cluster B personalities, alienation, and trauma.

While both can help you make small steps to understanding what is happening to you, they do not move the needle when it comes to reconnecting with your child.

That is why I propose a third option.

Focus on building yourself up. It seems counterintuitive, given that every day you wait, your child endures more pain from the alienator. However, you do not know when they will return to you. There may be legal barriers, such as custody agreements, or they may outright refuse to talk to you.

If you do not do the inner work first, you won’t be prepared to do the outer work.

Inner work includes but is not limited to:

• Physical Health
  Your body is the foundation of everything else. Eat well, move daily, and sleep properly. When you neglect your health, your patience shortens, your reasoning gets duller, and exhaustion becomes your default state. You’ll burn out long before your child ever has a chance to return, and when they do, you’ll be too depleted to meet them with strength or calm. If you cannot afford a gym membership, consider doing some calisthenics at home or going for a run. You don’t need to be a bodybuilder, being healthy is more than enough.
  
  The last thing you want is for medical conditions to drain you of your finances and leave you too weak to do anything. While many conditions like cancer and autoimmune diseases may arrive unexpectedly, they are often exacerbated by other health issues.
  
  My mother, unfortunately, has Lupus, and I suspect the stress of her life has contributed to it. Despite the challenges posed by Lupus, she religiously goes to the gym to stay healthy. That act of defiance has helped her immensely in slowing the decline of her body. Many people underestimate the power of good nutrition and consistent exercise.
  

• Financial Stability
  Money is not about greed. It’s about autonomy and freedom. By managing your budget, reducing debt, and building savings and retirement funds, you reclaim the power to make thoughtful decisions rather than react to crises. If you ignore your finances, you live at the mercy of circumstances, and desperation will bleed into your parenting, communication, and relationships.
  
  Financial stability gives you the option to buy gifts, set aside money for your alienated child, and even list them as a benefactor in your estate planning. While I advise caution when using money as a tool to reconnect with your child, having the option is better than not having it at all.
  
  I want to acknowledge that the start of this article posed real economic challenges that are ongoing. Unfortunately, these are forces that restrict our options and are beyond our control. The only thing we can do is play the game and try to find ways to grow financially. Take the time to learn more and build your financial literacy so that you can ensure you have an action plan for yourself.
  
  Here are a couple of books to consider for building financial literacy:

  • I Will Teach You to Be Rich by Ramit Sethi

  • The Psychology of Money by Morgan Housel
    

• Education and Mastery
  Knowledge compounds faster than money. Study psychology, leadership, finance, communication, trauma recovery, and emotional intelligence. Read widely, fiction and nonfiction, and apply what you learn. Without continued learning, you’ll default to outdated strategies, repeating the same cycles that alienation already punished. A stagnant mind cannot lead a family toward healing.
  
  Additionally, education is the fastest way to develop yourself professionally. As you gain expertise, you get paid more, which improves your financial situation.
  
  One of the biggest epiphanies I had when learning about alienation came from personal development and business books. For those who are not marketing savvy, you might be surprised to hear that many of the techniques I teach are based on marketing fundamentals—knowing your target audience, product development, sales, and solving problems for your key customers.
  
  Solutions will come to you from the most unlikely places.
  

• Leadership Skills
  Parenting after alienation is leadership under fire. You must learn to inspire through steadiness, not control. Leadership training sharpens decision-making, resilience, and emotional discipline. Without it, you’ll vacillate between anger and helplessness, setting no example for your child to trust or follow.
  
  A strong leader commands respect, while a weak leader demands respect. The nuance lies in maintaining your composure during high conflict and extinguishing the charged emotions by validating them and identifying the correct solution.

  
  One of the best ways you can build this skill is to start by learning about the three brain states, which you can read about in my article, Seeing through the Eyes of the Alienated Child.

• Communication Skills
  Communication determines connection. Learn to listen without defense, speak with clarity, and time your words wisely. Miscommunication is the most common reason reunification fails because a parent’s intent is lost in tone, context, or timing. Without skillful communication, every conversation risks reopening old wounds rather than repairing them.
  
  Some of the best communication techniques you can learn and practice today are Labels and Mirrors. I speak more about them in my article, How to Talk to Your Alienated Child When They Don’t Want to Talk to You.

• Emotional Regulation
  Alienation thrives on emotional chaos. Learn to soothe your nervous system through therapy, meditation, breathwork, or exercise. If you struggle with self-regulation, every text, rejection, or court update can feel like an attack. You’ll react in ways that confirm the alienator’s narrative and make reconciliation harder with each exchange.

• Empathy and Self-Awareness
  Your child needs emotional safety more than explanations. Reflect deeply on how your words and energy land, even when you mean well. If you lack empathy, your child will feel unseen; if you lack self-awareness, you’ll repeat the same emotional patterns that drove them away. Healing demands humility, not justification.

Personal development is complex. It demands that you maintain complete honesty with yourself and that you stretch and push yourself to be better. Some days, it may feel like you are making no progress at all.

This does not mean you pause outreach to your child; it just means that your well-being comes first. I am sure you have heard it a 1000 times before, but if the oxygen masks drop, you put yours on first before putting them on your child.

Because the magic comes when your alienated child tests you. They will come to provoke you, and you will need to maintain your calm. When they come to you in pain, you will need to know how to lead them to their strength.

That is why you need to start preparing now. Practice communication and leadership skills with your coworkers and those closest to you. Make lifestyle changes to support your physical, emotional, and financial well-being.

It is better to be prepared for an opportunity and not get it than to receive an opportunity and not be prepared for it.

It all comes down to what you decide is a priority. We all have the same 24 hours in a day. Take inventory of how you spend your time and determine whether you are spending it well.

The inner work precedes the outer work. Most people try to do the outer work (start a movement, enact an alienation law, become an alienation influencer, etc) because they are actively avoiding the inner work.

Here is the kicker.

Every formerly alienated child I have spoken to has told me that one of the biggest things they looked for when reuniting with their alienated parent was emotional intelligence. They wanted to know whether their parent had the emotional maturity to guide them as they reconciled the truth of their alienation.

You are their lighthouse in a storm. And if you can’t weather the storm, how do you expect to guide your child?

Step 3: Become the Safest Place in Your Child’s World

Lifeguards undergo a great deal of training to help a person who is drowning. They approach with a sense of calm and they never let the person grab them because there is risk of being overpowered.

When someone is in a survival state, the rational part of their brain shuts down. They cannot process nuance, context, or intention. That’s why the rescue protocol is so structured. The lifeguard has to approach slowly, keep their own breathing steady, give clear and simple instructions, and always introduce a flotation device between them and the swimmer. The buoy is for both the swimmer’s safety and for the lifeguard’s. It gives the panicked person something to hold onto so the rescuer can maintain enough distance, composure, and leverage to guide them toward shore.

There are also countless tragedies where an untrained bystander, seeing someone in distress, swims out heroically only for both people to drown. Their intentions might have been in the right place, but because they underestimated how powerful panic becomes in the water. Fear makes people unpredictable, reactive, and physically volatile.

The same rule applies to alienation.

Alienated kids are in a constant survival state where they will do whatever it takes to protect themselves, including being hostile to you.

Doing the inner work is like alienation lifeguard training. You are preventing yourself from being pushed underwater and teaching yourself how to lead your child to shore.

• Staying healthy is an act of love for your child because it keeps you strong enough to meet them when they return.

• Every dollar you save is an act of love because it prepares you to protect and support them when they need you most.

• Each rejection from your child is progress, even if it feels like nothing is working. There are lessons to be learned, no matter what.

And behind all of this, you need systems, habits, and routines that make you consistent, including but not limited to:

• Scheduling for exercise, sleep, and healthy meals
• Budgeting, creating a spending plan or savings routine
• Journaling or therapy practice for processing emotions
• Using scripts and communication templates for outreach
• Planning for how to respond to silence, anger, or hostility
• Educational routines (books, courses, reflection)

The alienated parent who thrives does not measure success by how often their child responds to them. Every rejection is information. Every ignored message, every cold encounter, angry outburst—it all tells you something about what your child can or cannot yet handle.

So become a scientist. Observe their behaviors. Test to see what works and what doesn’t work. Then adjust your methods accordingly. Learn what resonates and discard what doesn’t. There is no room for mourning an unanswered text or a failed visit. The goal is not perfection, but persistence.

At first, it may seem cruel to try so hard for such a little return. But slowly, you’ll realize that each act of effort—exercising, saving money, reading, meditating, building—remakes you into the kind of person your child will one day recognize as safe.

Final Thoughts

Winston Churchill would often recite a poem he had memorized (Horatius by Thomas Macaulay) to give himself strength and courage when he was filled with doubt. It is a long poem, so I will share just a snippet of it below.

Then out spake brave Horatius,

The Captain of the gate:‘

To every man upon this earth

Death cometh soon or late.

And how can man die better

Than facing fearful odds,

For the ashes of his fathers,

And the temples of his Gods,

If reading this article challenged you or frustrated you—I understand. You may be thinking, “Andrew, you don’t know how hard I’ve worked. You don’t know what I’ve survived.”

And you would be right. I don’t know what you have gone through. The thing is, you don’t have to prove yourself to me. I am just a guy on the internet writing about alienation. I have also experienced alienation on both sides, and I beat it twice.

I was once alienated from my mother, and I teach what she did that led to my reunification 12.5 years later.

Afterwards, I was cut off from my brother by the same alienator for 5 years. Everything I share in my articles ultimately helped me break through and reconnect with him. There were nights when I stayed up to 4 am trying to contact him (12-hour time difference). After realizing I couldn’t connect with him, I dedicated years to studying communication techniques, leadership skills, and relationship psychology, seeking more effective ways to initiate conversations. I have failed more times to start a conversation with my formerly alienated brother than I can count.

But in 2019, I was able to start small conversations with him. And by 2021, I was able to talk with him for hours.

I challenge you because it is hard. And I will never lie to you about it getting easier.

And here is the hidden truth: the lesson you need to learn to get a breakthrough in your alienation case may not be the one anyone else is teaching. And that includes me.

That doesn’t mean it is all hopeless, nor does it mean everything I share is useless.

Bruce Lee, one of my personal heroes, would always say, “Research your own experience. Absorb what is useful. Reject what is useless. Add what is essentially your own.”

Sometimes the path forward requires courage to test new approaches. Your situation is unique. The whole recipe for your success is deeper than what anyone can hand you. Sometimes the right move is the opposite of what seems wise. Sometimes love demands that you take the long way home.

The point isn’t to follow someone else’s map.

You must rediscover your capacity to navigate, experiment, fail, recalibrate, and keep moving forward. That is why I focus so much on mindset and personal development.

Because abusive people will try to separate you from your own power. Then, they dangle your child in front of you to hurt you.

Reclaiming that power is the first step to helping your child heal. No one wants to experience alienation, divorce, or abuse. And in a perfect world, I think we would all choose a simple life with our families. Unfortunately, alienation is an arduous challenge thrust upon you, and you have no choice but to face it head-on. The responsibility and burden of an alienated parent is a thankless job until your child heals.

You have to recognize that the only person who can transform your future is you. No one can carry the weight for you. Don’t get wrong, with all the other challenges highlighted in the beginning, it can feel overwhelming. But you have to keep pushing forward so that you can lead your child to shore.

It will start to feel like purpose, and you will find strength within you that you never knew was possible. You can be the parent your child needs.

And when the day comes for them to reunite, they will be able to follow your footsteps to becoming the adult you always knew they could be.

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

If this article was helpful, be sure to check out my other articles below.

1. Finding Meaning in Alienation When All Hope is Lost

2. Escaping the Prison of the Mind

3. Finding Love after Alienation Part I

4. Finding Love after Alienation Part II

5. Finding Love after Alienation Part III

What’s coming next?

Many parents have been asking for articles addressing the challenges of advanced alienation, such as reaching out to adult children who are self-enforcing their own alienation, dealing with estrangement, and knowing what to do when the alienation is happening in real-time.

I have about 10 article outlines that I have been working on covering these topics and others. I will admit, some of them are lackluster at the moment and require a great deal of research. My hope is to share insights with you that you cannot find elsewhere, so these articles sometimes need more time to cook in the oven.

Next month, I will be sharing tips on how parents can celebrate the holidays despite their child being actively alienated. I will share more about my plans for 2026 at the end of the December article.

Thank you for your continuous support and for sharing these articles with parents who are struggling with alienation.

Much love to you all.

Splitting the Child in Half

In 1915, Albert Einstein wrote in a letter to Heinrich Zangger,

“My dear friend Zangger,

Your friendly lines greatly impressed me, not by their content but because I see what an active interest you are taking in my fate. In the matter itself you are mistaken. My fine boy had been alienated from me for a few years already by my wife, who has a vengeful, ordinary disposition, but also is so sly that outsiders and particularly men are always deceived by her. If you only knew what I had to live through with her, you would hold it against me that I did not find the energy for so long to separate myself from her. The postcard I received from little Albert had been inspired, if not downright dictated, by her. It said: “As long as you aren’t friendlier with Mama, I don’t want to go with you. Anyway, we’re going into the countryside in July and I don’t want to give up that stay.” Where they wanted to go was not conveyed to me, not even the new address, which I only learned about from you. When I write to Albert, I get no response at all.

Under these circumstances it appeared as if I couldn’t see the children at all if I came now to Zurich in July, as I was firmly resolved to do. So at the last minute I decided, while I was at Göttingen giving talks about the general theory of relativity, to relax here in Sellin, where my cousin had rented lodgings with her children. I’m going to stay here until August 1st, because I need that much rest. From the 1st of August I am ready to come to Zurich, even if my children are so incited against me that they don’t want to have anything to do with me; then I’ll come to see you again. Give me a time period between 1 August and 1 October; I will certainly come. I would surely have been there on the 15th of July if I hadn’t been deterred by the ugly postcard. I left the children to my wife; she shouldn’t ill them with animosity toward me, less for my sake than for the children’s, whose moods are dampened by it.

In your reply please also write me what’s wrong with my little boy. I’m particularly fondly attached to him; he was still so sweet to me and innocent.

Do answer soon, your truly grateful

A. Einstein. ”1

Many parents who are alienated have held this story of Einstein up as proof of alienation, only to be continually dismissed by alienation deniers.

Their reasoning boils down to a few banal explanations:

• Einstein was known for being non-committal in his marriages, which would certainly earn the scorn of his ex-wives and any children he had with them. Therefore, Einstein was estranged due to his own actions.

• Einstein was a towering public figure; thus, he was protected so that the image of a deadbeat father would not tarnish his legacy and genius. Moreover, Einstein’s ex-wife, Mileva Marić, lived in an era when divorced women had limited economic power; thus, she is seen as a victim under the shadow of a public icon.

There is truth in part of this critique. Einstein’s infidelities, emotional distance, and failures as a husband are well-documented, and such behavior understandably damages trust, marriage, and family life. Those actions rightly shape how history judges him as a partner. And I believe that his actions contributed to his son’s temperament. However, in subsequent letters, a pattern of behavior emerges where Hans Albert exhibits mild to moderate signs of alienation.

His words often echo Mileva’s grievances rather than his own independent reflections, at times withholding affection or contact until Einstein demonstrated greater deference to his mother. His silence in response to Einstein’s letters, combined with conditional statements like “as long as you aren’t friendlier with Mama, I don’t want to go with you,” suggests a child being coached into gatekeeping the relationship. These are not definitive proofs of alienation in the modern clinical sense, but they are indicators of a dynamic where loyalty to one parent was pitted against the natural affection for the other.

This nuance matters. Estrangement rooted in a parent’s failings looks very different from alienation, where the child’s authentic attachment is disrupted and redirected by the influence of the other parent. In Hans Albert’s case, both appear to be at play: Einstein’s shortcomings gave his son reason for disappointment, but the letters reveal an added layer of alignment with Mileva’s perspective that went beyond his own lived experience. In other words, Hans Albert’s rejection of Einstein cannot be fully explained by Einstein’s behavior alone.

Einstein’s infidelities, his aloofness, and his poor performance as a husband are matters for moral judgment — and again, they rightly affect how history sees him as a partner. However, these are separate questions from whether his child should be taught to avoid him, withhold correspondence, or condition affection on his behavior toward the other parent.

Alienation is not the natural consequence of a flawed marriage; it is the result of intentional behaviors that place a child in the middle of an adult conflict, forcing them to choose sides and to reject a parent from a narrative fed to them instead of their own experience.

When we dismiss Einstein’s account simply because he was imperfect, we normalize the idea that alienation is an appropriate punishment for being a difficult spouse or an absentee partner. That logic, applied consistently, would justify alienation in almost any divorce, and would erase the fundamental distinction between a parent who fails in the marriage and a parent who is dangerous and unfit to have a relationship with their child.

However, this explanation alone will not suffice to prove that alienation is real, and so we must dig deeper into the big question…

Why is Alienation believed to be Pseudoscience?

Let’s start with the history first.

In 1985, Dr. Richard Gardner coined the term Parental Alienation Syndrome (PAS) to articulate what he perceived as a growing pattern in child custody disputes where children were being "programmed" by one parent to denigrate the other. Gardner described deliberate psychological tactics like “brainwashing,” outright programming, and an “independent-thinker” façade as central mechanisms of this alleged syndrome.2

Gardner’s theory was criticized heavily. Despite publishing many peer-reviewed articles on PAS, he was continuously discredited with claims like basing his research on predominantly anecdotal evidence and being self-published. Others accused him of not being a real doctor, an inaccurate charge as Gardner was a licensed clinical professor of child psychiatry at Columbia University. Yet his academic credentials did little to shield him from criticism. Legal scholars, mental health professionals, and advocacy groups argued that his work lacked rigorous empirical validation, relied too heavily on case studies from his own clinical practice, and failed to produce standardized diagnostic criteria that could withstand courtroom scrutiny.3

By the late 1990s, the American Psychological Association and other professional bodies had declined to endorse PAS as a recognized disorder. When the DSM-5 drafting process began, proposals to include either PAS or “Parental Alienation Disorder” were rejected, citing insufficient scientific evidence, concerns over misuse in custody disputes, and the risk of conflating alienation with legitimate estrangement due to abuse or neglect.

Compounding the controversy were Gardner’s own published remarks on sensitive subjects like pedophilia. In several writings, he suggested that sexual contact between adults and children had been viewed differently across cultures and history, and that societal framing could influence the degree of trauma experienced. Critics interpreted these statements as minimizing the harm of abuse, a perception that further damaged his credibility and intensified skepticism toward PAS as a concept. Gardner denied endorsing such behavior, claiming his comments were descriptive rather than permissive, but the reputational damage was lasting.

By the early 2000s, PAS had become a lightning rod in family law, where some evaluators and attorneys embraced it as a framework for understanding severe parent–child rejection, and rejected by others as “junk science” prone to being weaponized by abusive parents to regain custody. Gardner’s death by suicide in 2003 marked the end of his direct influence. Still, the shadow of his controversies has remained, allowing critics of alienation to dismiss the entire field by association.

Since then, “Gardnerian” figures such as Bill Bernet, Amy Baker, Jill Harman, and Richard Warshak have built upon his core observations while discarding or revising his more problematic early assumptions. Their work has broadened the focus from a rigid “syndrome” model to a continuum of alienating behaviors and responses, often integrating research from social psychology, developmental psychology, and high-conflict divorce studies. Still, the Gardnerian lineage generally maintains the emphasis on intentionally alienating behavior as the primary driver of the child’s rejection.

What this shows is that despite the efforts to prove the existence of alienation, there is still irreparable damage to the movement as a whole due to consistent ad hominem attacks, post hoc ergo propter hoc (after this, therefore because of this) argumentation like “if the child is rejecting the parent, the parent must have done something wrong,” and the tendency to assume correlation equals causation without investigating systemic family dynamics. These flawed arguments have given critics easy ammunition, allowing them to dismiss legitimate findings by focusing on weak reasoning rather than evidence.

It is in this context that Dr. Craig Childress enters the field. By grounding his framework in established clinical constructs such as attachment theory, family systems theory, and personality disorder dynamics, he sidestepped many of the fallacies that plagued early discourse and offered a more rigorous, clinically anchored model.

Dr. Childress continues to use the term parental alienation as an umbrella descriptor, but he insists it is not a new disorder or “syndrome” in itself. Instead, he argues it is best understood as the manifestation of established, well-recognized pathologies operating within family systems. Specifically, he frames severe child–parent rejection in divorce or custody conflict as a form of attachment pathology, in which the child’s normal attachment bond with a parent is disrupted through the influence of the other parent’s unresolved personality disorder traits. Unlike Gardner, who positioned PAS as a discrete diagnosis, Childress maintains that alienation can be fully explained through three existing mainstream clinical frameworks.4

1. Attachment Theory – Drawing from John Bowlby’s foundational work, Childress emphasizes that children have an innate biological drive to maintain secure attachment bonds with both parents. When a child suddenly rejects a parent in the absence of abuse, this represents a disruption of the attachment system—a red flag for pathology, not normal development.5

2. Personality Disorder Dynamics – Childress situates the alienating parent’s behavior within patterns seen in narcissistic and borderline personality pathology, particularly splitting (idealizing one figure while devaluing another), enmeshment, and role-reversal. These distortions lead the child to adopt the alienating parent’s perspective as their own, to preserve the fragile attachment with that parent.6

3. Family Systems Theory – He further applies concepts from Salvador Minuchin and Murray Bowen, highlighting how coalition formation (child + one parent against the other) and triangulation create rigid, pathological family structures. In this framework, the child’s rejection is not a free-standing choice but the outcome of systemic role pressures and loyalty conflicts.7

By tying alienation to these three accepted clinical domains, Childress avoids introducing an unrecognized “syndrome” and instead reclassifies alienation as a predictable outcome of identifiable pathologies. This shift is important as it places alienation inside the boundaries of established psychology rather than outside them. It also means that interventions can be guided by existing evidence-based practices such as attachment repair, structural family therapy, and treatment protocols for personality disorders rather than speculative or novel techniques.

In Childress’ view, alienation is not pseudoscience because it does not require inventing new categories of mental illness. Instead, it is an application of existing science to a specific family dynamic, one that has long been observed in high-conflict custody disputes but historically mislabeled or misunderstood. By reframing the issue this way, he attempts to rescue the legitimacy of the field from the shadow of Gardner’s controversies and restore attention to the underlying clinical reality that children can and do become weaponized in the context of a parent’s psychopathology, with devastating consequences if not correctly identified and treated.

With the history of alienation as a general baseline, I typically encounter three distinct arguments from alienation deniers.

1. Alienation is junk science, based on the history of Richard Gardner, and those who research and advocate for alienation are profiting from touting it.

2. Alienation is the excuse used when the parent blames everyone else but themselves for their estrangement from their kids.

3. Alienation is a legal strategy used by abusive fathers who want to separate a protective mother from the children as a means to harm her and seize control of the kids.

Let’s go through each of them.

Junk Science

Critics often argue that alienation is “junk science,” a relic of Richard Gardner’s discredited “Parental Alienation Syndrome,” kept alive only by professionals who profit from custody disputes. This caricature ignores forty years of refinement. Gardner’s early formulations were deeply flawed, but they prompted a generation of researchers to document, measure, and validate what he could only describe anecdotally. Scholars such as Amy Baker, Richard Warshak, Bill Bernet, and Jennifer Harman have published decades of peer-reviewed research, moving away from the rigid “syndrome” label while preserving Gardner’s essential insight: that some children reject a loving parent, not because of abuse or neglect, but because of the influence of another adult. Their empirical work has demonstrated alienating behaviors, long-term harm to children, and treatment approaches, placing the concept firmly in mainstream psychological literature.

Dr. Craig Childress took the next step by discarding the syndrome model entirely. In his attachment-based framework, alienation is not a novel disorder but a predictable expression of established pathology. A child’s sudden rejection of a parent without cause can be explained through well-recognized dynamics like the suppression of the attachment system, cross-generational coalitions, and personality disorder pathology in the aligned parent. By mapping alienation onto attachment theory, family systems, and clinical models of narcissistic and borderline traits, Childress made alienation scientifically legible without Gardner’s diagnostic baggage.

Critics also point to the fact that alienation never made it into the DSM-5 as proof that it is “not real.” But as Dr. Childress emphasizes, alienation does not need its own entry because the abusive behaviors that produce it( attachment suppression, role reversal, coercion, psychological control) are already defined in clinical science. What makes alienation unique is not the invention of a new pathology, but the specificity—one parent deploying these abusive behaviors onto a child to target and erase the other parent. The absence of a DSM code reflects that alienation is a web of recognizable dynamics already present in established psychology.

For this reason, the charge that alienation is “junk science” is outdated. To dismiss it based on Gardner’s errors is to ignore the field’s evolution, just as one would not dismiss modern psychology because Freud speculated wrongly about dreams or sexuality. Alienation today is not built on untested theory—it is framed within the same established clinical frameworks that inform how therapists understand trauma, enmeshment, or abuse.

Finally, the frequent smear that alienation researchers are “quacks” or profiteers is nothing more than an ad hominem tactic. Specialists exist in every corner of psychology, from domestic violence to trauma to addiction, and alienation is no different. Attacking the credibility or motives of professionals rather than engaging with their data is a rhetorical strategy, not a scientific rebuttal. Even more concerning is when critics claim to be “advocating for the children” while ignoring or dismissing the body of research that documents how alienation harms children. This is a textbook case of the appeal to motive fallacy—dismissing an argument by questioning the supposed intentions of those who make it, rather than addressing the evidence itself.

By masquerading as advocates for children while disregarding decades of empirical findings, deniers commit yet another logical error… they substitute ideology for science, sentiment for data, and in the process leave children more vulnerable to the very abuse they claim to oppose.

Conflation with Estrangement

Another frequent argument is that alienation is nothing more than an excuse—a way for a rejected parent to blame everyone else rather than taking responsibility for their own estrangement. In this framing, if children cut off contact, it must be because the parent was neglectful, abusive, or simply unworthy of their love. The accusation paints alienation claims as self-serving cover stories.

This reasoning commits the post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy—“after this, therefore because of this.” It assumes that because rejection follows family conflict, the parent’s behavior must be the cause. In reality, estrangement and alienation are distinct phenomena, and collapsing them together erases that distinction.

• Estrangement occurs when children withdraw from a parent for proportionate reasons: abuse, chronic neglect, or serious parental failings. The child’s response is understandable given the facts of their experience.

• Alienation, as Dr. Childress notes, is revealed in the disproportion. The child rejects, despises, or entirely erases a normal-range parent for reasons that are trivial, distorted, or nonexistent. The intensity of rejection does not match the supposed “crime.” Instead, the reaction reflects the influence of another adult’s narrative, not the parent’s actual behavior.

What deniers overlook is how highly manipulable children are. Whole fields of developmental science exist because children are so suggestible: education, child psychology, and parenting research all aim to harness that plasticity for healthy growth. Yet deniers claim children can see with absolute clarity whether a parent is “good” or “bad.”

Developmental neuroscience tells another story. The prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain that governs judgment and perspective-taking, is not fully developed until around the age of 23 to 25.8 That immaturity makes children vulnerable to persuasion and dependent on those they trust most.

Let’s not forget that at a young age, children will readily believe in Santa Claus or the tooth fairy. Teenagers, meanwhile, undergo hormonal surges that amplify emotions and distort perspective. In abuse situations, children often adopt a fawning response, aligning with the abuser’s perspective to preserve safety.

Beyond this, research shows that children’s memories are highly malleable. Developmental psychologists Elizabeth Loftus and Stephen Ceci have demonstrated that children can be led to “remember” entire events that never occurred simply through repeated suggestion or leading questions.9 In courtroom studies, even subtle wording by adults has been shown to contaminate a child’s recall, producing confident but false testimony.10 In the context of divorce, these vulnerabilities are magnified when a trusted caregiver continually communicates a negative narrative about the other parent. Over time, the child may come to believe and even “remember” things about the targeted parent that never happened. Dean Tong, in his book Elusive Innocence, has documented how false accusations in custody disputes often draw on this dynamic—children repeating stories they have absorbed from an aligned parent rather than recounting independent experiences.11

We have even seen cases where children’s testimony, later revealed to have been coerced, led to a parent being wrongly condemned. These stories (which I will share later below) demonstrate why distinguishing between alienation and estrangement is a matter of justice. When alienation is dismissed as a blame-shifting excuse, these realities are ignored. The result is that manipulated children are treated as if their rejection is independent and self-authenticating. But children are not miniature adults with fully formed brains. Their developing minds are shaped by the caregivers around them, for better or for worse. That vulnerability is precisely why alienation must be taken seriously, and why confusing it with estrangement does real harm.

Gendered Critique

One of the recurring outcries by feminist groups is that alienation is nothing more than a legal strategy used by abusive fathers to discredit protective mothers and seize custody of children. In their telling, alienation is not a clinical reality but a courtroom tactic: a way for men to weaponize psychology against women who raise concerns about abuse.

This critique deserves to be taken seriously, because there are cases where abusive parents—both fathers and mothers—have misused the language of alienation to mask their own behavior. But the existence of misuse does not invalidate the phenomenon itself. False claims of alienation are not evidence that alienation is “fake.” They are themselves a form of alienation, where the child’s bond with a loving parent is attacked to manipulate custody outcomes to separate a child from them.

The irony of this critique is that alienation has never been a gendered phenomenon. Decades of peer-reviewed research show that mothers and fathers alienate children in roughly equal numbers, depending largely on which parent has greater day-to-day control of the child.12 Studies by Jennifer Harman and colleagues identify alienation as a form of family violence, not a male strategy against women.13 By insisting it is exclusively a patriarchal weapon, critics obscure the very real harm done to children by alienating mothers—harm that is structurally identical to that caused by alienating fathers.

There is also a deeper hypocrisy in these claims. The same groups that declare alienation is “fake” rarely speak to the countless women who have themselves been alienated from their children. They present themselves as champions of women’s rights but ignore the plight of mothers whose children have been psychologically turned against them. They claim to speak for children, but never ask them about the experience of alienation itself. In most cases, they try to reframe the trauma of alienation as evidence of continuing abuse from the demonized father. Most of these groups cannot reconcile the possibility of a loving, caring father. As a result, these positions erase the voices of both women and children—the very people they claim to defend—while projecting upon an entire demographic.

Alienation is not about who “wins” custody; it is about children being psychologically manipulated into rejecting one parent to serve the needs of the other. By reducing it to gender politics, critics not only obscure the science but also abandon the children caught in the middle.

Parental Alienation is far simpler than most people think

I no longer call it parental alienation. I still use the phrase because it is the most familiar and widely understood, but the term itself is no longer sufficient to capture what it really is. For simplicity, I refer to it as alienation, but I usually call it child psychological abuse.

After speaking with countless parents, grandparents, siblings, and experts, one thing has become clear… alienation is more diverse than the narrow picture of one parent turning a child against the other. While that remains the most common pattern, alienation can take many different forms.

• Grandparents can be alienated from their grandchildren.

• Siblings can be turned against each other.

• A grandparent can alienate a grandchild from their own parents.

• Alienation doesn’t always require divorce or two separate homes. It can happen under the same roof with both parents choosing to stay married or live in the same household.

• Step-parents can engage in alienation.

• The state or governing body can interfere with the child-parent relationship.

At its core, alienation is not bound to legal status, marriage, or custody. It is a set of psychological behaviors like manipulation, enmeshment, loyalty tests, and coercion that target a relationship and seek to sever it for the alienator’s own needs. It is the same collection of bullying behaviors you see in teenage gossip circles, scaled up to the adult level. This is why the term “parental alienation” falls short. It is a recognizable form of psychological abuse that can fracture any family bond and be orchestrated by any dominating force (not just parents).

Here is a list of common alienating behaviors:

• Badmouthing – Repeatedly denigrating the targeted parent in front of the child, portraying them as unloving, unsafe, or undeserving.

• Limiting Contact – Creating barriers to visitation, calls, letters, or even casual communication between the child and the targeted parent.

• Emotional Withholding – Teaching the child that affection or approval is conditional on rejecting the other parent.

• Forcing Loyalty Conflicts – Making the child “choose sides,” such as rewarding alignment with the alienator and punishing closeness with the other parent.

• False Allegations – Fabricating or exaggerating abuse or neglect claims to justify restricting the child’s relationship with the other parent.

• Withholding Information – Refusing to share school reports, medical records, addresses, or schedules so the other parent is excluded from the child’s daily life.

• Role Reversal (Parentification) – Pressuring the child to take on the emotional role of the alienator’s confidant or protector against the other parent.

• Gaslighting & Memory Manipulation – Rewriting past events so the child “remembers” the other parent as absent, harmful, or unworthy.

• Enmeshment – Blurring boundaries so that the child feels they cannot think, feel, or choose differently from the alienating parent.

• Interference with Extended Family – Cutting off grandparents, cousins, or siblings who remain loyal to the targeted parent, isolating the child further.

• Creating Fear or Guilt – Instilling anxiety (“if you see Dad, I’ll be sad or hurt”) or guilt (“loving Mom means you don’t love me”).

• Reward & Punishment Systems – Using gifts, privileges, or praise when the child aligns with the alienator, and coldness or withdrawal when they don’t.

• Erosion of Heritage & Identity – Encouraging the child to reject the culture, traditions, or name associated with the targeted parent.

None of these behaviors are unique to alienation. In fact, you can easily find these same tactics used in grooming, domestic violence cases, and in cults. They are recurring tools in an abuser’s playbook. The only thing that makes alienation distinct is the target. They are specifically utilized to disrupt the child’s bond with another parent or family member. In other words, the child becomes the battlefield where adult conflict is fought.

History and literature offer numerous examples, spanning cultures and centuries, of this same dynamic where a parent’s shortcomings—real or perceived—are leveraged by another adult or authority to cut off the bond with a child, often with lasting harm.

• King Solomon’s Judgment (c. 950 BCE, Biblical narrative) – Two women claimed the same infant. Solomon ordered the child cut in half so each would “share” him. One woman agreed, exposing her indifference to the child’s life, while the true mother begged for the child to be spared, even if raised by another. The story dramatizes the alienator’s core impulse: it is better to destroy the bond than to let the child remain attached to their rightful parent.

• Spartan Agōgē (c. 7th century BCE – 2nd century BCE) – At age seven, boys were removed from their families and placed in state-run barracks. Bonds with parents were deliberately broken to forge loyalty to the Spartan state above all else, a systemic alienation of children from family identity.

• Roman Patria Potestas (c. 5th century BCE – 4th century CE) – Fathers in Rome held absolute power, including the right to sell, disinherit, or reassign children. Mothers and maternal kin were often erased from a child’s life, instilling loyalty to paternal authority and alienating children from half their family heritage.

• Alexander the Great & Philip II (356–336 BCE) – Alexander’s mother, Olympias, stoked distrust and contempt between Alexander and his father, Philip II. She told Alexander he was the son of Zeus, not Philip, feeding resentment. Their estrangement climaxed in Philip’s assassination, which is widely believed to have been encouraged by Olympias and possibly condoned by Alexander, who consolidated power immediately afterward.

• Augustus & Julia (18 BCE, Roman Empire) – Emperor Augustus exiled his daughter Julia for alleged promiscuity, cutting her off from her children and reshaping her public image as immoral. Her children were raised away from her influence, trained to see her not as a mother but as a disgraced figure.

• Henry VIII & Mary Tudor (1530s, England) – After his break with Catherine of Aragon, Henry forced their daughter Mary to renounce her mother and acknowledge Anne Boleyn as queen. Mary’s refusal led to years of isolation and threats, with Henry and Anne working to alienate her from Catherine’s memory.

• Mary, Queen of Scots & James VI (1567–adulthood, Scotland) – Mary was imprisoned and forced to abdicate her throne. Her infant son, James, was raised by Protestant lords who portrayed Mary as immoral and unfit. James grew up rejecting his mother, even refusing to see her before her execution.

• Ottoman Harem & Palace Schools (15th – early 20th century) – Princes were often removed from their mothers (who were usually concubines) at a young age and raised in palace schools or distant provinces. This severed maternal bonds and ensured that loyalty lay with the Sultan and the empire, not with mothers who might form rival power bases.

• Napoleon II “The Eaglet” (1814–1832, Austria) – After Napoleon’s abdication, his son was taken to Vienna and raised under Austrian guardianship. Dubbed “The Eaglet,” he was indoctrinated to see his father as a tyrant and was alienated from both his French heritage and the Bonapartist legacy.

• U.S. Indian Boarding Schools (1819–1969) – Native American children were forcibly removed, forbidden to speak their language or practice their traditions. They were taught to view their families’ ways as savage and shameful, severing bonds of love and heritage.

• Canadian Residential Schools (1831–1996) – Indigenous children were taken into Catholic and state-run institutions where abuse was rampant. They were told their parents and communities were backward and unworthy, alienating them from both family and culture.

• Pre-1839 English Custody Law (before 1839) – Before the Custody of Infants Act (1839), children were considered the father’s property. In divorces or separations, mothers had no legal right to custody, regardless of the father’s fitness, severing maternal bonds by law.

• British Child-Migration Schemes (1860s–1970s) – Tens of thousands of children were shipped to Australia, Canada, and other colonies, often told they were orphans while their parents or other relatives remained alive in Britain. Many never saw their families again, believing for decades they had been abandoned.

• Shift to the “Tender Years” Doctrine (late 19th – mid-20th century) – Custody preference swung toward mothers of young children, producing the mirror image where fathers were alienated by default, often losing meaningful contact regardless of their parenting.

• Australia’s Stolen Generations (c. 1910–1970s) – Aboriginal children were seized from families to be assimilated into white society. Parents were painted as unfit “savages,” and children were indoctrinated to reject their culture and identity. In some cases, children were placed with grandparents who had already been assimilated, creating grandparents as agents of alienation against their own children.

• Irish Mother & Baby Homes (1922–1998) – Unmarried mothers were confined in religious institutions and coerced to give up their babies for adoption. Many children grew up believing their mothers had abandoned them, never knowing the truth.

• Soviet Re-education after the Holodomor (1932–late 1930s) – Orphaned Ukrainian children were raised in state institutions where loyalty to the Party replaced family bonds. Parents and relatives were denounced as kulaks or traitors, and children were taught to scorn their memory.

• Nazi Germanization Programs (1939–1945) – Thousands of Polish and other occupied children were abducted, renamed, and placed with German families. They were told their parents were inferior or dead, and many never reconnected with their true families.

• Greek Civil War “Paidomazoma” (1948–1949) – Children were taken en masse from villages and raised in camps aligned with either the Communists or the Royalists. In both cases, children were indoctrinated to despise their parents’ faction and taught to see loyalty to the other side as betrayal.

• French “Stolen Babies” from Réunion (1963–1982) – Children from poor families in Réunion were taken by French authorities and placed with rural families in mainland France. Many were told their parents had abandoned them.

• Argentine “Dirty War” Appropriations (1976–1983) – Children of the disappeared were placed with military-aligned families and raised to see their murdered parents as subversives or traitors.

• Modern Fiction: The Parent Trap (1961 & 1998; based on Kästner’s Lottie and Lisa) – Divorced parents split twins at birth, each raising one child while erasing the other parent and sibling from the child’s knowledge. Although this is presented as a cute reunification story, the premise begins with both girls being deliberately alienated from half their family.

• Modern Fiction: Firelord Ozai in Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005–2008) – Firelord Ozai banishes Zuko’s mother, lies that she is dead, and poisons Zuko’s perception of her. He also manipulates Azula to scorn her mother. This creates both direct parental alienation (mother–child) and sibling alienation (Zuko–Azula).

• Modern Fiction: Tangled (2010, Disney) – Mother Gothel kidnaps Rapunzel and raises her by convincing her that her real parents do not care for her and that the outside world is dangerous. She isolates Rapunzel, manipulates her identity, and conditions her to reject any pull toward her true family. This is classic alienation with lies, fear, and dependency.

In all of these examples, some form of alienation exists. Many carry complex political, cultural, or religious undertones that shaped the way children were separated from their parents or communities. Kings, emperors, churches, and states often justified these separations as serving a greater good—loyalty to the crown, purity of faith, national unity, or even “civilizing” missions. But beneath these layers of ideology, the core dynamic remains the same: a child’s natural bond with a parent or family system is deliberately undermined to serve the needs of an outside authority.

This is what makes alienation so deceptively simple. The tactics (badmouthing, coercion, false narratives, isolation) are familiar tools of psychological abuse. The difference lies in their target: they are aimed not just at controlling the child, but at severing the child’s attachment to someone else. Whether in the court of Solomon, the royal houses of Europe, or the colonial schools of the 19th and 20th centuries, the playbook remains consistent. Alienation weaponizes a child’s dependency, reshapes their loyalties, and rewrites their memories, leaving scars that often endure for generations.

Modern Case Studies of Alienation

Even if one dismisses historical examples for being ideologically complex or too distant, alienation is happening right now, with documented impact.

Case Study 1: Mary Ann Elizondo

In the fall of 1983, Mary Ann Elizondo, aged 27, faced one of the most devastating examples of modern alienation weaponized through the legal system. Her sons—aged 10 and 8—had been living most of the time with their biological father. One weekend visit to Mary Ann and her then-husband, Joe, led to shocking allegations where the boys accused both parents of sexual abuse. The result was swift and brutal. Mary Ann was convicted in 1984, and she received concurrent sentences totaling up to 35 years.

For years, the two boys maintained absolute emotional distance from their mother. Then, in 1988, on his 17th birthday, one of the sons discovered a hidden letter she had written. That letter became the turning point. He recanted his testimony, revealing that his father had coerced both him and his brother into fabricating the abuse, threatening “lifelong punishment” if they refused. At that point, the legal machinery began to unravel. Joe’s conviction was vacated in 1995, and Mary Ann’s conviction followed suit in 2005, with the court officially exonerating her. In 2008, she received a financial compensation package from Texas, acknowledging the grave wrong done to her.14

This case is a stark illustration of alienation in action, with a parent deliberately turning children into instruments of revenge, destroying a bond, causing wrongful imprisonment, and inflicting decades of emotional harm. It's a clear demonstration that alienation is not hypothetical—it can be engineered through strategy, sustained in court, and only exposed decades later.

Case Study 2: Madison Welborne McGeehan

Madison Welborne McGeehan, known as Madi, grew up believing her father was dangerous, unloving, and not worth her trust. From the time her parents divorced when she was nine years old, her mother systematically worked to erase her father’s presence from her life. She withheld overnight visits, discouraged communication, and fed Madi a steady stream of negative narratives about her father.

For Madi, the alienation was invisible at first. As she describes, “From the time my parents divorced at age nine, I never once stayed the night at my dad’s.”15 She came to accept her mother’s story—that her father was to be feared—as fact. The absence of time with him reinforced the lie. Over the years, she grew further and further away, developing what she now recognizes as “brainwashed” beliefs that he was an unsafe parent.

It wasn’t until adulthood that Madi began to understand what had happened. Encountering the concept of parental alienation gave her language to explain the emptiness and confusion she had carried for years. Looking back, she realized that her father’s affection and attempts to remain connected had been systematically undermined. She had been taught to reject him, not because of abuse or neglect, but because her mother required her loyalty to validate her own grievances.

Based on her experience, Madi founded the Anti-Alienation Project, an organization that now supports thousands of alienated parents and children worldwide. Through storytelling, education, and advocacy, she works to expose alienation for what it is: a form of psychological abuse that devastates family bonds. Her story demonstrates how one child’s tragedy can be transformed into collective action, giving a voice to others who endure the same silent war.16

Here is a video where Madi discusses her experiences of alienation with her father.

Case Study 3: Erasing Family

One of the most potent modern testimonies to the reality of alienation comes not from court transcripts but from film. In 2020, filmmaker Ginger Gentile released the documentary Erasing Family, a follow-up to her earlier work Erasing Dad in Argentina. The film follows the stories of children and young adults who are cut off from loving parents due to manipulation, legal systems, and entrenched social narratives.

Gentile’s work exposes the hidden epidemic of children being weaponized in custody disputes. In interviews, young adults describe the pain of being pressured to reject one parent, often repeating false narratives they were taught as children. Parents speak of birthdays missed, letters returned unopened, and the bewildering experience of being vilified by their own children without recourse.17

The film highlights that alienation is not confined to one country or culture. It spans the globe, exhibiting eerily similar tactics and outcomes, including badmouthing, interference with contact, loyalty tests, and false allegations. What makes Erasing Family particularly important is that it centers on the voices of the children themselves—many of whom are now grown—who articulate the confusion, guilt, and loss that defined their childhoods.

Erasing Family has since been screened internationally, used in legal education, and shared among support groups for alienated parents as both validation and advocacy. It has helped reframe the conversation from a disputed “legal tactic” to a form of child psychological abuse with long-term consequences.

You can watch the documentary for free on YouTube and Tubi. I have also linked it below for convenience.

Case Study 4: Warning! Children Are Not Weapons!

If films like Erasing Family give voice to alienated children on screen, the anthology Warning! Children Are Not Weapons! captures their voices on the page. Compiled by survivors of alienation themselves, the book brings together sixteen authors—men and women who grew up alienated, abducted, or psychologically manipulated to reject one parent. Each contributes a chapter of narrative, poetry, or art that lays bare the hidden epidemic of child psychological abuse tied to alienation.

The stories are unflinching. Survivors describe being told a parent abandoned them when, in fact, they were forcibly cut off; being coerced to testify falsely against a parent; being abducted; or being pressured to adopt the alienating parent’s worldview in exchange for love and approval. Some chapters include full-color photographs, anchoring memory in lived reality. The result is a mosaic of pain and resilience that no denier can dismiss as theoretical.

What makes the anthology powerful is that it doesn’t end in despair. While each story documents the devastation alienation caused—identity confusion, guilt, loss of belonging, difficulty trusting others—the collection also highlights survival and reclamation. Many authors describe how finding language for their experience, or reconnecting with an alienated parent later in life, helped them transform trauma into advocacy.

The book’s significance has been recognized publicly. It received the James Madison Literary Award from the United States Presidential Service Center, an independent organization that honors cultural contributions that raise awareness of urgent social issues. That acknowledgment underscores what the book already proves through testimony: alienation is not pseudoscience or courtroom rhetoric—it is child psychological abuse, and it leaves scars that echo into adulthood.18

Concluding Thoughts

Even with all of the evidence presented here—the letters of Einstein, the historical precedents, the clinical research, and the lived testimonies of survivors—there will always be alienation deniers. For decades, they have sought to cast alienation as “junk science,” as if the behavior of children can be explained only in simplistic moral binaries of “good parent / bad parent.”

But most deniers are not engaged in a good-faith search for truth. They are engaged in an ‘ends justify the means’ effort to hold the moral high ground. To admit that alienation exists would mean confronting hard questions: How many courts were misled by false narratives? How many children grew up carrying preventable wounds? How many advocacy campaigns against alienation, framed as a defense of women or children, actually erased the voices of the very women and children who were alienated?

The reflex is to avoid accountability by dismantling the argument itself—labeling alienation as pseudoscience, blaming the targeted parent, or conflating it with estrangement. It is, at its core, a defensive maneuver. Because if alienation is acknowledged for what it is—a form of psychological abuse—then silence, denial, and inaction become complicity.

No parent is perfect, and there will always be mistakes that create hardship for a child. But denying alienation is a poor way to avoid taking ownership and personal accountability. Children suffer not because parents are flawed, but because one parent chooses to exploit those flaws and weaponize the child’s loyalty. Becoming better parents is a high demand as we navigate the challenges of daily life, but it is and will always be our most sacred priority.

This is why arguing with alienation deniers often feels fruitless. Brandolini’s Law reminds us that “the amount of energy needed to refute nonsense is an order of magnitude larger than to produce it.” Online, this imbalance is magnified: one bad-faith claim can spiral into hours of rebuttals. Worse, debates quickly devolve into what can only be described as a “fight club mentality,” where the goal is no longer truth or understanding but humiliation and domination. Engaging too deeply in these battles risks not only exhaustion but the further entrenchment of misinformation.

Alienation is not a theory. It is not a courtroom strategy invented by abusive parents. It is a reality documented across history, confirmed by decades of research, and voiced by countless survivors. Dismissing it will not make it go away. Recognizing it is the first step toward protecting children, holding abusers accountable, and rebuilding fractured families.

My goal with this article is not to fuel more debates, but to provide you with the tools to articulate the science of alienation. Online arguments will always attract those who thrive on denial and distortion, but real change happens in quieter, steadier ways: when a parent explains to a judge why a child’s rejection is disproportionate; when a therapist recognizes the signs of coalition and role reversal; when an advocate can point to both history and lived testimony to show that alienation is not pseudoscience, but abuse. Every time the truth is spoken clearly and calmly, another layer of misunderstanding is stripped away. The deniers may never yield, but the families suffering from alienation deserve clarity, validation, and protection—and that is where our energy belongs.

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

P.S. If you want to read the current literature about alienation, I have put together a list of books that may be helpful.

1. Disrupting the Intergenerational Trauma Cycle of High Conflict Divorce: A Guide for Mental Health Practitioners and Adult Child Survivors of Child ... Severe Parental Alienation (Book 1) by Dr. Alyse Price Tobler

2. Navigating the Maze During Treatment of Adult Survivors of Child Psychological Abuse: A Comprehensive Resource Guide for Mental Health Practitioners, ... Treating Adult Child Survivors. (Book 2) by Dr. Alyse Price Tobler

3. Don't Alienate the Kids!: Raising Resilient Children While Avoiding High-Conflict Divorce by Bill Eddy

4. An Attachment-Based Model of Parental Alienation: Foundations by C.A. Childress Psy.D.

5. Divorce Poison New and Updated Edition: How to Protect Your Family from Bad-mouthing and Brainwashing by Dr. Richard A Warshak

6. Litigating Parental Alienation: Evaluating and Presenting an Effective Case in Court by Ashish S. Joshi

7. Adult Children of Parental Alienation Syndrome: Breaking the Ties That Bind by Amy J.L. Baker

This article is the final article of a 3-part mini-series titled, Finding Love After Alienation. If you have not read the first two parts, you can do so below.

• Finding Love After Alienation Part I

• Finding Love After Alienation Part II

Love is Sometimes Delusional

Throughout the best stories in our existence, there is a continual existential tug-of-war between optimism and pessimism, especially after great trauma.

After so much pain, disappointment, and loss, what’s the point? Where do you find the strength to continue moving forward after all that has happened? When we are born, the world is full of wonder and excitement. Now that we are adults, the magic has faded away, and the world seems to be filled with hypocrisy, malice, and apathy.

Leading you to think, “Why should I care anymore?”

It reminds me of the quote by Detective Somerset at the end of the movie Se7en where he says:

“Ernest Hemingway once wrote, 'The world is a fine place and worth fighting for.' I agree with the second part.”

Even outside the Prison of our mind, the world is filled with endless stories of war, death, destruction, loss, illness, and betrayal. It often feels like there is no place to hide from it all, and you are bombarded until you are numb to the pain of others. It feels like no one cares about your pain, so why care about others?

Apathy grows like a cancer until it takes hold in other parts of your life. Relationships are left to decay, your professional life fizzles out, and your energy drops to depressing levels.

At the end, all that is left is to crawl into a hole and die.

But despite all the pain and agony of existence, there always seems to be a chance for a spark. Even when you might be at the darkest bottom of a sunken place, you might feel a tinge of hope that if you stood up one more time, maybe you could pull yourself out of this mess.

You hold on to the things that matter most, enduring the climb out of the pit of depression, to stand on the principles that you believe in. This is not logical. You could argue that this behavior is delusional. After failing so many times, the math says it is statistically impossible, yet you still hold on to the belief that you can do it.

It is the same type of faith and inner resolve that Samwise Gamgee held at the end of The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, where he says:

“It's like the great stories, Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad has happened?

But in the end, it's only a passing thing this shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer. I know now folks in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't.

They kept going because they were holding on to something. That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for.”

There is no proof that things will get better after trauma. But if you believe in it enough and you take the steps towards building a better life, you can reshape the reality of your life.

When I first started writing about how alienation attacks our capacity to love, I realized that romance was only one part of the entire equation. It hinders our ability to love as a family, and on a broader level, it affects our ability to feel love for the world.

Once you have seen the world’s capacity for malice, manipulation, and the sheer apathy for those who are trampled by others, it is painfully easy to say that you now see the world clearly for what it is.

A cesspool of debauchery, narcissism, and betrayal, veiled behind hypocrisy and a facade of performative morality.

But the thing is that if you live in a world where all you see are the vices of humanity, then vice is all you will see. Seeing the world from a bitter and nihilistic view cultivates an environment where you have created your own version of hell.

You might ask me, “Andrew, what good is love for the world when my child was taken from me? What good is love for the world when my entire life has been destroyed?”

These are valid questions and ones I don’t take lightly.

You will find that your worldview will create an environment where your pain defines your day-to-day life. Not only will this leave you exhausted and hurt, but it also reduces your threshold for what is deemed acceptable. In other words, you are more likely to accept less good things in your life because you have determined the world has nothing good left to give.

This leads to what the writer Thoreau called “lives of quiet desperation,” where you surrender to the discomfort of a life you never wanted. Such a life numbs you into apathy. You stop trying to explore the limits of your creativity and growth. Years go by, and you will find yourself trapped in a fixed point in time.

Even if your own well-being is an afterthought, your child will see the environment you live in and will be repulsed by it. The world of the alienator is usually hostile and dangerous, but the alienated child will not jump from the frying pan into the fire of your depression. Your own well-being and your child’s well-being are interconnected. You must lead first so that your child can follow in your footsteps.

Life with an abusive person like the alienator puts the child in perpetual survival mode, where they question their own sense of self-worth. If you do not show them that another way of life is possible, you won’t have a convincing enough position to bring them home to you.

Optimism and love of the world, despite the pain and suffering, can seem delusional to pragmatists and pessimists. It might even feel like an abandonment of truth and honesty with yourself.

But I would like to reframe it as a commitment to bringing more good in the world. It is a gift that only you can bring. You are actively choosing not to surrender to the harmful actions of others, nor will you become what hurt you.

When you are thriving, your child will see it. They will envy the peace and joy that is woven into every aspect of your life, and it will be maddening to them that you have found a way to exist happily in a world filled with pain. At first, they are likely to judge you and pretend to claim a false moral high ground. But the mystery of their own absence of joy will eat at them until they reach out to you to figure out how they can find happiness themselves.

And that sets the stage for you to help them find meaning after the alienation, find love in their life, and discover the truth.

So the short answer to how love for the world supports both alienated children and parents is that it enables them to pursue the ambitions they would have aspired to had the alienation never occurred.

As Andy Dufresne would say in Shawshank Redemption,

Your life does not have to be defined by the absence of kindness from the people who hurt you. They don’t deserve that kind of power over you.

What Does Love of the World Look Like?

The Outer—from the Inner

The Outer—from the Inner
Derives its Magnitude—
'Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according
As is the Central Mood—

The fine—unvarying Axis
That regulates the Wheel—
Though Spokes—spin—more conspicuous
And fling a dust—the while.

The Inner—paints the Outer—
The Brush without the Hand—
Its Picture publishes—precise—
As is the inner Brand—

On fine—Arterial Canvas—
A Cheek—perchance a Brow—
The Star's whole Secret—in the Lake—
Eyes were not meant to know.

~ Emily Dickinson

If you are a long-time reader of Shortening the Red Thread, you will probably guess my response is that the answer to the question above lies in ourselves. By extension, love of the world is the same as love for ourselves, only broader. Some people do so by devoting themselves entirely to religion. Others champion social causes. And many will tend to the little garden of their life and nurture the things that bring them joy.

The world is filled with examples of historical and current icons who have triumphed over tragedy. Make no mistake, the pain does not go away immediately. Sometimes, the pain never goes away. But what matters most is that these people have found ways to give the world more because of what they’ve endured.

For example:

• Emily Dickinson lived much of her adult life in near-total seclusion, haunted by loss, disillusionment, and loneliness. Yet from that solitude emerged a body of poetry so precise and transcendent that it continues to shape language, spirituality, and inner life today.

• Helen Keller, both blind and deaf from infancy, was expected to live a life of helplessness. Instead, through courage, determination, and the support of her teacher, Anne Sullivan, she became a writer, speaker, and advocate whose work transformed how society viewed disability, education, and the human spirit.

• Viktor Frankl, a survivor of Auschwitz, famously wrote that “life is never made unbearable by circumstances, but only by lack of meaning and purpose.” He found in his suffering not a reason to despair, but a call to serve. Through his book Man’s Search for Meaning, he offered millions a lifeline through the idea that we can build a future from the ashes of the past. (I wrote an entire article around Viktor Frankl and finding meaning after alienation. You read it here, and I highly recommend reading his book as well.)

You don’t need to be a historical icon to do this.

In Part I of Finding Love After Alienation, we explored the raw and often terrifying work of finding love again in romantic partnership and within ourselves. In Part II, we turned inward toward the family, reclaiming what it means to love and be loved within our most formative relationships.

This final chapter is the broadest and perhaps the most difficult.

Because this time, the subject of love isn’t a person. It’s the world.

1. How do you find love for the world after alienation?

2. How do you invest in a life that has taken so much from you?

3. How do you trust again when the person who should have loved you most chose to hurt you?

When I first introduced the five stages of healing—Recognition, Reconnection, Reclamation, Rebuilding, and Reintegration—it was through the lens of learning to love yourself again. But the same arc applies to our relationship with the world. Just as alienation can fracture our sense of self, it also fractures our sense of belonging. It tells us we are not safe, not wanted, not real. That our voices don't matter. That our grief is not valid.

Reclaiming love for the world is not about denying that pain. It’s about choosing to build a new relationship with the world, even with those truths in view.

We begin, as before, with Recognition.

Step 1: Recognition

Before you can love the world again, you have to be able to see it clearly.

Alienation and trauma can warp your perception. They distort your sense of safety, belonging, and truth. Over time, your nervous system adapts by scanning for threats in every direction, triggering survival mode even in situations that are not dangerous.

And it is not just in relationships, but in institutions, authority, and even moments of kindness from your community. This is protective at first. But if it goes unchecked, it becomes a prison of the mind, where you are simultaneously the prisoner and the prison guard. You stop interpreting the world through your eyes and start interpreting it through your wounds.

Imagine having a broken arm. If you leave it untreated, what happens the next time someone tries to hug you? Even if that hug is filled with love, you wince in pain and pull away. It doesn’t matter that the hug was coming from a place of genuine affection; your mind registers it as a threat to your well-being.

Wounds of the mind are similar, only they don’t have obvious breaks or tears like the body does. As a result, we are more likely to forget they are there. The only way we can discover these trauma patterns is to disrupt them by pausing before reacting and to practice curiosity so that we can see the situation as it is, not as how we fear it might be.

Seeing the world clearly again means learning to recognize three things in real time:

1. Your own internal state.

2. The mode you’re operating in

3. The reality of the other person in front of you.

I’ll break each down further.

1. Recognizing Your Internal State

Your body often signals what your mind hasn’t yet named. Tightness in the chest, shallow breathing, clenched jaw, or a racing heartbeat can be early warnings that you’ve shifted into an anxious, fearful defense.

Recognizing these cues isn’t inherently wrong or bad. There is no value in shaming yourself. It’s about knowing when you’re primed to interpret everything as a threat. If you catch it early, you can pause before reacting.

The power of the pause comes when you can disrupt trauma patterns within yourself to ask yourself key questions that would give you an honest reading of the situation.

Example questions to ask yourself:

• Am I tired, hungry, overstimulated, or in pain right now?

• Is my reaction proportionate to what’s happening, or does it feel bigger than the situation?

• Have I felt this way before in a different context?

I cover much of this in Finding Love After Alienation Part I, particularly in the section about learning to love yourself.

2. Recognizing the Mode

You’re almost always operating from one of two modes: curiosity or fear.

• In curiosity, you are in an executive state where you feel open. You ask questions. You can disagree without feeling unsafe.

• In fear, you are in a survival state where you become closed off and feel defensive. You assume intent before you have the facts.

Alienation conditions you to live in fear mode, because for so long, danger felt constant. The shift is learning to notice which mode you’re in and intentionally choosing curiosity where it’s safe to do so.

Check-in questions:

• Am I trying to understand, or am I trying to protect?

• Am I listening to understand, or listening to respond?

• Do I feel physically tense or relaxed right now?

• What can I learn from this?

To learn more about staying in an executive state, I highly recommend my article, Seeing through the Eyes of the Alienated Child.

3. Recognizing Others Accurately

Not everyone in your life is safe, and not everyone is a threat. Alienation blurs that line, making it easy to mistake strong opinions for aggression or kindness for manipulation.

One of the more common things I have noticed in both former alienated kids and targeted parents is that many of them who find a healthy relationship will often pair with someone who is their fiercest protector, especially when it comes to their blind spots.

And what I mean by that is the formerly abused parent or child is still gentle and kind after the alienation, albeit too kind or easy-going. Sometimes, someone might push the limits of what is appropriate, and the spouse/partner steps in to immediately squash any manipulative intent. In many ways, they see behind a person’s silver tongue and have the courage to call it out in ways that a formerly alienated person might shy away from. When peace is equated with the absence of conflict, it is too easy to give in to other people’s demands when we fear disappointing others.

Learning the skill to ascertain whether a person is inherently manipulative, acting inappropriately in the moment, or is disagreeable while maintaining good intentions toward you is critical in your ability to interact with others honestly. Most of the time, a person is just misbehaving in the moment due to an insecurity or fear they are subconsciously directed by.

You don’t have any obligation to teach or nurture that person through their subliminal insecurities. That kind of advice often falls on deaf ears anyway. All you have to do is learn to recognize it and acknowledge the limits of what you can do.

For example, I used to work as a manager in a retail store, and my part-timers would often call me when they had an angry customer. Most of these exchanges would look like this.

I would approach the angry customer.

Customer: You the manager?
Andrew: Yes sir, how can I help you?

Customer: Yeah I spent over a $100 on primer to cover up a water stain on my ceiling and it is still bleeding through. I am sick of wasting money on shit that doesn’t work. You going to do anything about that?

Moments like these would often upset my team members. They absorb some of the anger projected by the upset customer and take it personally. Even my fellow managers, who had more experience with buyer complaints, sometimes took these comments to heart and engaged with them in a more combative manner.

Now the bottom line is this behavior is unacceptable, and a customer should be respectful. But we don’t live in a world where everyone does what they ought and should do.

My response to these individuals always starts with recognition. In this case, I had to recognize that they are afraid of failure and the potential of losing more money. Once I know what they are scared of, I can immediately address the fears and ignore any comments made in anger.

Andrew: Yeah that is pretty ridiculous. Tell you what, let’s head over to the primer aisle. Could you also tell me what primers have you tried so far?

Customer: I tried Product A, Product B….

Andrew: Yeah that makes sense, usually those work but water stains, especially if there is tannin oils from the wood, bleeds through acryllic easily. Let me show you something that will get the job done.

Almost every time, I would extinguish the anger of the customer, and some of them even apologized to me afterward. Many would spend money on premium products that were beyond their budget. This is not because I am some master salesman.

I gave them the space to be angry and recognized that their anger is with themselves. I was able to stay calm and curious while they were emotional. Then, I could give them the confidence they needed to solve the problem.

The key is separating toxic intent from human imperfection:

• Some people are harmful because they thrive on control, cruelty, or deceit. They manipulate to maintain power, exploit vulnerabilities, and show little to no empathy for the harm they cause. Their behavior is patterned, intentional, and consistent over time—even when confronted with the damage they’ve done. These are the individuals you protect yourself from with firm, non-negotiable boundaries.

• Most people simply make mistakes, speak clumsily, or act out of their own insecurities. They might misread a situation, fail to follow through on a promise, or respond defensively when they feel embarrassed or afraid. Their impact can still hurt, but the intent is not malicious. Often, these behaviors are situational—triggered by stress, ignorance, or conflicting priorities—not by a desire to harm others.

I will never tell you to excuse harmful behavior. Draw clear boundaries to protect yourself from toxic people. But remember, most people mean well, even if they make poor choices.

Learning to tell the difference requires both pattern recognition and context awareness:

• Is this a one-time issue or a repeated pattern?

• Do they take responsibility when it’s pointed out, or deflect and blame?

• Do they adjust their behavior when they know it causes harm?

• Is the problem a skill gap or character trait that may improve slowly, or is it rooted in deliberate harm?

This is where Hanlon’s Razor becomes essential:

“Never attribute to malice what can be adequately explained by carelessness or misunderstanding.”

In my time supporting the alienation movement, I’ve seen countless moments where someone reacted like a volcano—not because the other person was truly dangerous, but because fear of being hurt again hijacked the moment.

Recognition is about taking inventory of what is happening right now. It is a skill of being present in the moment and not giving in to the sway of heated emotions. By being present, you can exercise curiosity and acknowledge how alienation reshaped your lens of reality. That’s what helps you widen your field of vision again. It allows you to name what hurts without letting it define everything.

Step 2: Reconnection

Alienated children are taught explicitly or through fear and manipulation that connection and love are conditional.

To maintain love, safety, or approval, they must reject part of themselves, including,

• Their bond with a once-loved parent

• Their intuition

• Their right to ask questions or explore alternative truths

Over time, this conditioning becomes internalized. They learn to distrust affection, avoid vulnerability, and question whether their feelings are real. Many carry guilt, shame, or confusion deep into adulthood, unsure of why they feel disconnected, emotionally muted, or fearful of closeness even in safe relationships.

The tragedy is that most alienated children don’t even know they’re alienated. They only know they’re alone and away from the influence of the alienator. Even then, many adult children of alienation reach a stage where they self-enforce the alienation, and it is only when their beliefs are dramatically challenged that they start to doubt their programming.

When they do begin to realize something is off, they may not know where to turn. Trust doesn’t come back easily. Even when they want to reconnect, the fear of rejection, or the belief that they were the one who did the rejecting, can keep them frozen in isolation.

On the other hand, alienated parents find isolation takes a different but equally painful form.

They are often surrounded by people who either:

• Believe the alienator’s version of the story.

• Stay “neutral” and avoid the topic entirely.

• Offer advice without understanding the trauma.

Eventually, many parents stop reaching out. They learn to go quiet in rooms where they once shared openly. They maintain composure to avoid judgment. And little by little, they begin to believe the lies that alienation taught them, such as, “you are too much, your story is too messy, and no one wants to deal with your pain.”

This is how both parent and child end up in emotional exile, trapped on opposite sides of a wound neither of them caused.

In both cases, the next step after recognition is to engage with curiosity to connect with people, even those you might disagree with.

Reminder: This is not advocating for connecting/reconnecting with toxic people. Part of the Recognition step is to strengthen your ability to discern toxic people from disagreeable people with different perspectives.

Here is the thing… the ultimate goal for most victims of alienation is to reconnect the alienated child with the targeted parent or family member. That is usually the baseline goal.

However, rediscovering your love for the world means setting your targets on something higher. In addition to reconnection to heal the alienation, you have to look for ways to reconnect with society and the world at large.

And you start by asking yourself this big question.

Who and what will I allow into my life again?

When you are in the reconnection stage, you are looking to find where healthy connections have been broken as a result of the alienation and its symptoms.

Some of these ideas might sound cliché because they’ve been repeated ad nauseaum in self-help books and therapy rooms for decades. But they’re repeated for a reason… they work. Think of them as the “bread and butter” of rebuilding connection. They aren’t quick fixes, but over time, they rewire your nervous system, rebuild your trust in the world, and make space for real relationships.

1. Reconnect with Yourself in Quiet
   
   Reconnection starts with you. Set aside time for stillness without distractions through journaling, meditating, praying, or simply sitting with your thoughts. Life is already quite busy with work, finances, and personal obligations, making it hard to find time for rest. Quiet time allows your nervous system to shift from constant alertness and gives space for your feelings to surface without judgment. This inner clarity becomes the foundation for connecting with others from a place of presence rather than reaction. Quiet time is how you process all the emotions you carry throughout the day. The more quiet time you allot for yourself, the calmer you will find your mind is over time.
   

2. Reconnect with Nature
   
   Nature has a way of calming the human nervous system that no lecture, podcast, or pep talk can replace. Being outdoors exposes you to natural light, which boosts vitamin D—a key nutrient for mood regulation—and helps your body produce serotonin, the neurotransmitter linked to well-being and calm. Walk in a park, garden, or forest. Sit under a tree and listen to the wind. Let your senses soak in colors, textures, and sounds. In nature, there’s no judgment or agenda, just an invitation to remember what safe connection feels like.
   

3. Reconnect with your Community
   
   Isolation shrinks your sense of belonging. Reconnecting means showing up where people are—and not just to receive, but to contribute. Join a local hobby group, attend a class, volunteer, or explore community events. Try Meetup.com, neighborhood Facebook groups, Rotary Club, your local Chamber of Commerce, BNI, the YMCA, local libraries, or faith-based gatherings. When you participate in community life, you create chances for shared experiences, mutual support, and the kind of casual familiarity that grows into trust over time.
   
   Even if you feel you have very few or no friends, I challenge you to go out there and make a new friend. The more you tell yourself it is not possible, the more you are getting in your own way.
   

4. Reconnect With What You Find Beautiful
   
   One of the first things I told myself as an adult after alienation was, “From now on, I will only surround myself with things that are artistic, musical, and/or beautiful. Everything else can kick rocks.”
   
   Beauty reminds you that the world holds more than pain. It holds wonder, creativity, and joy. Whether it’s art, music, architecture, literature, nature, quality time with loved ones, engaging in hobbies, or cooking a meal you love, these moments activate the brain’s reward system and restore hope. Seek out beauty intentionally. Visit a museum, listen to a live concert, take photographs of things that inspire you, or arrange flowers in your home. Beauty is nourishment for your spirit.
   

5. Reconnect Through Learning Something New
   
   Curiosity is a bridge out of isolation. When you learn a new skill, whether it’s painting, coding, gardening, or speaking a new language, you shift your focus from what you’ve lost to what you’re gaining. New learning challenges your brain, boosts dopamine (motivation), and often brings you into contact with others who share your interests. Look for adult education classes, online workshops, or skill-sharing meetups in your area.
   

6. Reconnect by Helping Others
   
   One of the fastest ways to reconnect is to contribute. Volunteering at a food bank, mentoring a student, or helping a neighbor with errands shifts the focus outward and reinforces your value in the world. Assisting others also triggers the release of oxytocin—the “bonding hormone”—which fosters trust and belonging. Choose causes or communities you care about, and start small if needed. Even one act of generosity can remind you that you still have something to give, and that giving can feel good again.

Reconnection is about touching the world again, feeling its textures, hearing its voices, and letting its light back in. Each small choice to engage is a vote against isolation and a step toward wholeness.

Step 3: Reclamation

Once you’ve begun to reconnect with the world, the next step is to reclaim the driver’s seat of your life. The danger now isn’t just pain, but also passivity. It’s drifting on autopilot, letting months, years, even decades pass without moving toward your goals or mending what matters most.

Reclamation is the stage where you say loudly and proudly that you will not let the hurtful actions of another person take away the gifts you have within.

Love for the world is inseparable from love for yourself. Permitting yourself to pursue your ambitions is how you give back to the world. It shows your alienated children, whether they are watching now or will reconnect later, that joy and purpose are still possible after profound loss. It paints a picture of a life not defined by the alienator’s harm, but by your resilience and creativity.

Reclaiming your ambitions means reopening the parts of you that were suppressed because of the alienation.

Ask yourself:

• What did I want before alienation took over my life?

• Which dreams still spark something in me when I think about them?

• What new ambitions have emerged from who I am now?

• What excites me and gives me energy?

Your goals don’t have to be grand or public. They can be as small as taking a painting class, as personal as restoring your health, or as bold as starting a business or traveling the world.

When I left my alienator, one of my goals was to build a personal library of all the books I wanted to read. It is a small ritual of adding books that I think help me become a better person, and something that I still do today.

The scale matters less than the signal you send to yourself. My life still matters. My desires are worth pursuing.

And remember that ambitions are not a straight path. They’re a series of experiments. Some will work, others will fail. Sometimes you might realize a goal you once had no longer aligns with what you want for yourself now. Each one rebuilds your confidence and strengthens the muscles of hope. If you are worried about failure, give yourself smaller targets to aim at to build in some quick, small wins. When you give yourself hard proof of your ability to achieve your goals, you build self-trust.

This is how you reclaim your life after alienation. The same applies to your professional life, romantic endeavors, and your day-to-day life.

Step 4: Rebuilding

Given that alienation disrupts the entire foundation of your life, you will likely find yourself mourning in the ashes of a life that was burned to the ground. Many alienated parents and children have had to live in prolonged survival mode, where higher-level needs like self-esteem or personal growth feel like luxuries they can’t afford. When they take inventory of their life, they see nothing left.

And that is a hard place to draw motivation. How do you feel motivated to try again when someone took everything from you?

Rebuilding is where you take all the progress from Recognition, Reconnection, and Reclamation and apply it to the full spectrum of your human needs. One of the best frameworks you can use to build yourself up brick by brick is Abraham Maslow’s Hierarchy of Human Needs.

Let’s break it down level by level.

1. Physiological Needs

(Food • Water • Shelter • Rest • Health • Reproduction)

• Alienated Children — May fear losing a place to live if they disobey the alienator. Some experience neglect in subtle ways (poor nutrition, untreated medical issues) if it serves the alienator’s control. Constant anxiety about stability can make even basic rest difficult.

• Alienated Parents — May face sudden housing changes after divorce, high legal fees, or financial instability that makes health care and nutrition harder to maintain. Chronic stress erodes physical health and sleep quality, potentially leading to medical challenges.

Rebuilding Focus: Secure a safe living environment, ensure consistent access to food, water, and health care, and create a daily rhythm that includes real rest. This is non-negotiable. You will not be able to support yourself properly at the higher levels if you do not attend to your physiological needs first.

2. Safety Needs

(Personal security • Financial stability • Health care • Legal protection)

• Alienated Children — Often live under constant threat of punishment (loss of privileges, affection withdrawal) if they express a desire to see the targeted parent. This creates hypervigilance and teaches them the world is unsafe.

• Alienated Parents — Are at high risk of financial abuse via excessive child support demands, garnished wages, and expensive legal battles. May face CPS weaponization or restraining orders designed to intimidate.

Rebuilding Focus:

• Parents: Stabilize income sources, reduce legal vulnerabilities, and document interactions for protection. Ensure your home is somewhere safe for your children to visit, play, and connect with you and the community.

• Children (now adults or free from the alienator): Build independent living skills, learn self-defense or assertiveness, and create safe environments where trust can grow. Develop your core competencies for your career to avoid being limited to entry-level positions. Maintain boundaries with the alienator.

3. Love and Belonging

(Friendship • Family bonds • Intimacy • Community)

• Alienated Children — Are told love is conditional and must be “earned” by rejecting a parent. They often feel they must hide or deny parts of themselves to keep relationships.

• Alienated Parents — Lose not just their child, but often friends, extended family, and community ties who “stay neutral” or believe the alienator’s version of events.

Rebuilding Focus: Cultivate relationships based on mutual respect and consistency. Engage in community activities (faith groups, clubs, volunteering) where you can give and receive support without conditions. Avoid trauma dumping, as that will make the community uncomfortable around you.

*For rebuilding love within the family, be sure to read my previous article, Finding Love after Alienation Part II.

4. Esteem Needs

(Self-respect • Achievement • Recognition • Feeling valued)

• Alienated Children — Internalize shame and self-blame, questioning their worth and competence. Struggle to trust praise because affection has been used manipulatively in the past.

• Alienated Parents — Self-worth can collapse after years of being accused, doubted, or ignored. Professional setbacks and strained reputations add to the loss of esteem.

Rebuilding Focus: Set achievable goals to rebuild confidence. Seek environments that recognize your contributions. Affirm your worth daily.

5. Self-Actualization

(Personal growth • Creativity • Meaning • Living your purpose)

• Alienated Children — May have dreams suppressed or redirected to fit the alienator’s narrative. They learn to play small to avoid conflict. They may feel like they need to pursue a life that was chosen for them, likely by the alienator.

• Alienated Parents — Can put life goals on hold indefinitely, waiting for reunion. Creativity and exploration may feel selfish when the child is still gone.

Rebuilding Focus: Reclaim and pursue ambitions that matter to you now. Let your growth serve as an example to your children that life after alienation is not just survival, but that it can be beautiful and whole.

Rebuilding is a slow process, and chances are you won't be able to do all of it quickly. Focus on the foundational levels first so that you can steadily work your way up. That will help you step into the highest level—Self-actualization.

Step 5: Reintegration

Reintegration is the stage where the work you’ve done—recognizing, reconnecting, reclaiming, and rebuilding—comes together. It’s about becoming the fullest version of yourself because you’ve walked through the fire.

At this stage, your life is no longer defined by the alienator’s harm or the years of loss. Instead, it is shaped by the strength, insight, and compassion you’ve cultivated along the way. People naturally want to be around you because your presence offers hope, steadiness, and authenticity.

One powerful way to live out reintegration is to give back to the world. This doesn’t have to mean grand gestures or public crusades. Sometimes the greatest gift you can offer the world is the best version of yourself, living your best life, while supporting your immediate community.

Sure, this may not have the same ring or power as a multimillionaire, social influencer, or celebrity, but most people don’t want that. Most parents would have lived quiet lives raising their children had the alienation never occurred, and they intend to return to that life after reunification.

Reintegration is not the end of the story. It’s the close of one cycle. Continuous growth means you will return to Recognition again, discovering new truths about yourself and the world. From there, you reconnect, reclaim, and rebuild at an even deeper level. Each cycle strengthens you, expands your capacity for love, and allows you to bring more of your true self into the world.

When you live this way, alienation no longer has the final word. Your life becomes a living testament that while the wound may remain, it can be transformed into wisdom, resilience, and joy that grows with every turn of the wheel.

Alienation Advocacy

A word of caution for alienated parents…

It’s common to want to turn your pain into fuel for a cause—starting a movement, posting videos, or advocating daily about alienation. While advocacy has its place, it’s not a substitute for healing. If your only focus becomes alienation, you risk building your life entirely around your wound. I’ve seen many parents pour themselves into “raising awareness” only to burn out quickly, and others who abandon all their personal goals, passions, and relationships in the process. They become crusaders who will dedicate their entire lives to the pain that was inflicted on them.

Making content, leading groups, or trying to shift public opinion is not as simple as it seems. It rarely produces income, it requires a thick skin, and it demands emotional reserves you may still be rebuilding. If you choose to serve this way, do it from a place of strength, not survival—otherwise, it’s the blind leading the blind.

The same caution applies to formerly alienated children. I’ve written more about this in my article Why Alienated Kids Don’t Speak Out, which explains why even after reconciliation, many choose privacy over public advocacy. Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is quietly live a good, full life—free, creative, and deeply your own.

Breaking the cycle of abuse is in itself a huge victory in fighting alienation.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a lot of respect for those who have dedicated their life to researching alienation, defending parents and kids in court, and the many peers who have stepped into the public sphere to share their story.

But again, I want to stress that this must come from a place of strength. I say this with experience, as I have previously burned myself out multiple times. Additionally, the more your pain drives you, the more the optics of your work will be criticised, as the general public will think you are unstable.

This is a core reason why so many alienation-denying influencers double down on publicly discrediting alienation. They refuse to engage or listen to alienation victims because so many victims of alienation react hostily when their abuse is doubted. If you cannot handle the doubt of a stranger, you will not be able to handle the pressure of public advocacy. It is also why these alienation influencers tend to spotlight those with a “Fight Club” mentality.

They spotlight those who spew unhinged, misanthropic/misandrist/misogynistic, violent, and/or hateful comments, only to say to their following, “See? If they talk like this online, then it must be 1000x worse with their child.”

Final Thoughts About Love for the World

I genuinely believe that every day, you have to decide whether you want your life to be beautiful or ugly. Joyful or depressing. Peaceful or angry. And we can change direction at any time we choose. We only live for about 70 - 90 years, so why be a martyr of alienation? It doesn’t matter if you are 20 years old or 90. You have this moment right now to change the course.

I am not asking you to get up and fight.

I am asking you to get up and smell the flowers. Give yourself proof that the world has something good worth living for. That kind of hope and love can never die. The pain of continuing to live a loveless life has to be greater than the pain of changing your world into something worth living for. At that moment, you will find the greatest freedom.

If you are still in the throes of alienation, I cannot tell you when your alienated child will return. What I can promise you is that by rekindling your sense of love after alienation, it will be far easier to build a bridge for your child to walk on back to you.

No child wants to leave an abusive environment with one parent and enter the other parent’s depression and grief. Abuse, trauma, and malice take the magic of the world away, but you can restore that with love. In doing so, your child will naturally feel attracted to that.

Again, some might find this to be cliché, and I get it. But the alternative is to drown in grief and depression, because at the end of the day, no one is coming to save you. No law can be passed to magically change the situation, and no one person can solve all your problems.

If you are still questioning yourself, trying to discern where you might find the strength to continue, start the process with recognition, and slowly work your way through the cycle. If you are worried about judgment from others, then perhaps those people’s opinions may not be helpful to your well-being.

My mother’s greatest strengths were her conviction that one day my brother and I would return to her and the love she held for both of us, regardless of the pain she endured. She was not strong by herself every day; sometimes she had to rely on her support network. Most days, she leaned on her husband, who was there from the beginning. No matter how painful the alienation was, she still had the courage to have three more kids and raise them into respectful, kind, and intelligent adults.

When I reunited with my mother after 12.5 years of alienation, her commitment to being a loving person stood out the most to me, and much of what I have shared in these past three articles is built on what I have learned from observing her.

There is a song by Ennio Morricone and Chiara Ferraù that I found a few years ago that caught my attention because the beauty of the music blew me away.

The song is called Nella Fantasia, which means In My Fantasy.

If I were to take everything I have shared in Finding Love After Alienation Parts I - III, I would feel confident in saying it is encompassed within this song. I am sure that might come across as cheesy, maybe even flippant, to those who have suffered greatly from alienation. But like I mentioned above, we can either choose to live in despair over the pain we have suffered, or choose to stand on our principles of love, integrity, and compassion.

There are several stellar renditions of the song Nella Fantasia online, including the version by Sarah Brightman. Here is the version I listen to below. I included the English translation of the lyrics under the video.

In fantasy I see a just world
Nella fantasia io vedo un mondo giusto

There everyone lives in peace and honesty
Lì tutti vivono in pace e in onestà

I dream of souls who are always free
Io sogno d'anime che sono sempre libere

Like clouds flying
Come le nuvole che volano

Full of humanity at the bottom of the soul
Pien d'umanità in fondo all'anima

In fantasy I see a clear world
Nella fantasia io vedo un mondo chiaro

Even the darkest night is there
Lì anche la notte meno oscura

I dream of souls who are always free
Io sogno d'anime che sono sempre libere

Like clouds flying
Come le nuvole che volano

Full of humanity
Pien d'umanità

In fantasy there is a warm wind
Nella fantasia esiste un vento caldo

Blowing over the cities, as a friend
Che soffia sulle città, come amico

I dream of souls who are always free
Io sogno d'anime che sono sempre libere

Like clouds flying
Come le nuvole che volano

Full of humanity at the bottom of the soul
Pien d'umanità in fondo all'anima

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

A few quick updates

Firstly, I want to thank all of you who continue to support the newsletter. I have received many comments, emails, and shoutouts on social media. I am deeply grateful for all of them, and I try to respond to everyone.

As some of you might know, I am in the process of taking these ideas and putting them together into a book that I hope will support parents throughout their alienation journey.

It is a slow process—I work full-time, have a toddler, and also write as a freelance ghostwriter, so I only get small pockets of time. I don’t know when I will finish it, but I am researching for the book and sharing some of my core ideas here in this newsletter to see what is most helpful and what can be improved.

How can you help?

1. Ask me questions and share your feedback.
   
   The easiest way to help would be to ask questions in the comments and share your thoughts with me. You could even disagree and say, “Andrew, I don’t think this was good because…”
   
   It is completely ok to share your unfiltered opinions. I want this book to help people, and that means sometimes, I might be missing the bigger picture or that I didn’t explain something properly. Your feedback means the world to me, and I appreciate all of it deeply.
   

2. Share this newsletter with those in your community.
   
   There are countless alienated parents out there trying to survive alone. Offer them support by sharing this newsletter with them so that they can find the tools they need to reunite with their child.
   

3. Share your favorite resources.
   
   If you’ve found a book, podcast, article, or tool that has helped you in your alienation journey, pass it along. I may be able to feature it in a future newsletter to help more people benefit from it.

What is next?

I have been working on many different article ideas, including how to communicate with severely alienated kids who have gone no contact, how to address alienation deniers, estrangement vs alienation, and others.

If there are any particular topics that interest you, please let me know.

Are you a formerly alienated child or reunited parent looking to support alienated parents?

Ginger Gentile, director of the documentaries Erasing Family and Erasing Dad (Borrando a papá), is looking for reunited parents and formerly alienated adult children who want to support presently alienated parents in their journey to reunification.

I have been a long-time friend with Ginger, and everything she teaches in her programs is closely aligned with what I share in Shortening the Red Thread. Ginger has helped countless parents through her advocacy work, and I have been a guest coach for her programs for several years.

If you would like to learn more about how you can step into advocacy for alienated parents, consider Ginger’s coaching training.

Become a Coach

Note: This is not an affiliate link and I do not make anything from coaches who join. That said, I am a big supporter of Ginger and the work that she does and I believe that the skills she teaches are critical in reunification and healing after alienation.

Liked this article? Here are others you might find valuable.

1. Finding Meaning in Alienation When All Hope is Lost

2. How to Talk With Your Alienated Child When They Don't Want to Talk To You

3. Seeing through the Eyes of the Alienated Child

This article is a continuation of a short mini series titled, Finding Love After Alienation. If you haven’t read Part 1, you can do so here: Finding Love After Alienation Part 1

Pancakes for Dinner

After 12.5 years of alienation, my only thought as I was about to reunite with my mother was, “Well, here we go.”

Unlike Disney and Hallmark movies, there were no fireworks, colored lights, or triumphant music playing in the background.

At the time, I didn’t know how to feel. I remember seeing my mother across the airport with my siblings and stepfather, all smiling at my brother and me. The experience was deeply emotional for my mother as she hugged my brother and me tightly for almost 2 minutes. As horrible as it sounds, in that moment, I felt like I was hugging a stranger. I knew she was my mother, but I didn’t know if she would be my Mom.

The first thing we did after getting our luggage was go to Denny’s to eat. While it might not seem like the most celebratory place to eat, there was a certain calmness to that night. That night, my siblings, who lived with my mother, became real people to me instead of just names in a written letter. We talked as a family over dinner, and when I look back on it all, I really appreciate the normalcy of that night.

There were no balloons at home, no fancy expensive restaurant, no surprise party filled with strangers…

We were just introduced to the same lifestyle that my mom had already been living. She didn’t need to perform anything, which gave her the space to be present with us as we rediscovered each other.

Alienation does not end with reunification. Once you reunite, the real journey to ending alienation begins.

For the alienated child, several learned behaviors were developed as a survival mechanism while living with the alienator. These behaviors in a normal social context are destructive to healthy relationships and encourage a continuation of abuse by attracting toxic and manipulative people.

The alienated parent also has their fair share of lingering pain. Every moment with the alienated child feels like walking on eggshells. Their greatest fear is that this moment with their child might be their last. Left unchecked, this can become a self-fulfilling prophecy that leaves the parent to spiral out of control into depression.

Once reunification begins, both the alienated parent and child are rediscovering who the other person is. The parent-child dynamic doesn’t just automatically kick in. The longer the alienation, the greater the uncertainty between the parent and child.

If the alienated child is an adult (over 18 years old), there is an additional layer of complexity. When a child is under 18, the parent has legal authority to discipline the child as they see fit. However, once the child becomes a legal adult, they will be less receptive to corrective discipline. The alienated parent can certainly offer guidance and advice, but it is up to the adult alienated child to take action.

You can raise your child to be aligned with your religious, political, and disciplinary views, but it is very difficult to change an adult’s views, especially if they are opposed to your beliefs.

Many parents spend all their energy towards reuniting without a clear plan of what to do once their child is in front of them. The child may seem tentative, but do not mistake passivity for certainty. The child is likely on high alert, looking for a reason to validate all the accusations they have heard about your character. The difference between reunification and visitation is that they don’t have the overwhelming pressure of the alienator driving their behavior.

Instead, they can decide for themselves whether they trust you or not. This is a rare opportunity to change their perspective by giving them a new ‘first impression.’

Which means that this first meeting is about authenticity and kindness. There is no need to be performative. You can save Disneyland for a family trip down the road.

Sometimes, pancakes for dinner are better than the best wagyu beef and caviar.

Seeing Each Other as You Are, Not as You Imagined

It’s easy to think that once you reunite, all is well. Everything will get better from here on out. Time heals all wounds, right?

Well, not exactly.

As time passes in separation, the mind can’t help but fill in the gaps. For the alienated child, this might look like imagining a parent as everything the alienator was not—gentle, endlessly understanding, immune to mistakes. For the parent, it’s often a vision of the child frozen in time. You might only remember the innocent seven-year-old who adored you, not the teenager or adult with their own opinions, boundaries, and scars.

The person you reunite with will rarely match the fantasy you carried all those years.

When you finally meet face to face, the fantasy falls apart. You see their real quirks, wounds, and imperfections. You may feel an unexpected wave of grief, not only for the years you lost but for the realization that your imagined version of them never existed.

This grief is normal. It does not mean your relationship is doomed or that reunification was a mistake. It means you are finally meeting each other as whole people.

Alongside grief, you may notice self-blame. For the alienated parent, you might see your child’s struggles with depression, anxiety, addictions, and/or emotional dysregulation and think to yourself, “If only I had been there, then my child wouldn’t have been so hurt.” This kind of thinking can quickly spiral into feelings of guilt and a need to “fix” things immediately.

For the alienated child, you might also witness similar struggles in your alienated parent. You may see their grief resurface, or notice that they, too, have scars from years of being vilified and isolated. It can be jarring to realize that the parent you imagined as endlessly strong is also carrying regrets, insecurities, or even bitterness.

Alienated children might feel guilty and ashamed, believing they owe a debt to their alienated parent for the alienation. They might feel conflict-averse and refuse to express any frustration or set boundaries, believing that doing so would be ungrateful.

This sense of indebtedness often manifests as overaccommodation. They may agree to every request, suppress their discomfort, or pretend everything is fine, even when old wounds are still raw.

It can feel as if they must repay the parent for the years lost, as if love now requires constant proof of loyalty and devotion. And underneath that is usually a quiet fear of, “If I disappoint them again, will they stop loving me?”

Parents may misinterpret this compliance as genuine ease or closeness, but in reality, it often masks anxiety and the belief that any conflict could destroy the fragile reconnection. This is a fawning behavior, which I explain in greater detail in my article, “Seeing through the Eyes of the Alienated Child.”

Noticing these behavioral trauma responses in each other can create awkwardness and uncertainty between the parent and child.

Rebuilding Connection After Reunification

Reconnection is its own journey. It is a process that requires patience, compassion, and the willingness to start from where you are, not where you wish you had been.

Below are eight steps you can practice to help rebuild trust and intimacy over time.

1. Be Present and Patient

You can’t change the years you lost, but you can choose how you show up now.

When you reunite, it’s common for your mind to drift into fear, rehashing every moment you weren’t there or racing ahead to imagine everything that could still go wrong. But staying trapped in the past or the future keeps you from the one place where connection actually happens in this moment.

Presence is a gift not only to yourself but also to your child. When you are fully here, you create a safe container. That means listening without rehearsing your response and observing without judgment. You also model the calm, steady awareness that can help your child stay grounded when they are pulled back into old fears or losses.

It’s easy to feel that if you don’t do something dramatic, nothing is happening. You might look at a quiet dinner or an awkward phone call and think, This isn’t enough. We’re not making progress. But slow, consistent moments of presence accumulate in ways you can’t always see right away.

One ordinary meal, one honest conversation, one shared silence—they don’t look like much in isolation. But over time, these moments become the bedrock of trust. What feels insignificant now will eventually reveal itself as the slow weaving of a stronger bond.

Progress won’t always feel like progress. You may go weeks or months where things feel stagnant, or even regressive. That doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means healing is unfolding one step at a time.

Trust that your steadiness matters, even when you can’t measure it. The parent-child bond does not have to be restored overnight. It only has to be nurtured today.

2. Release the Fantasy

It takes courage to look each other in the eye and say plainly, “We are both imperfect and that’s okay.”

After so much time apart, it’s natural to hope the reunion will be the clean slate where everything finally feels easy. However, lasting closeness is built on the willingness to own your mistakes, to speak honestly about your fears, and to stay engaged when things feel messy.

This kind of honesty is disarming. When you name your limitations out loud (e.g., I know I won’t always get this right or I’m still learning how to be here with you), you take the pressure off both of you to perform an ideal TV fantasy version of parent and child. You create space for authenticity instead of silent comparison to an impossible standard.

Equally important is the willingness to talk about what can be done differently. You don’t have to rehash every old wound in detail to move forward, but you do have to be willing to ask, What would help us feel safer with each other?

Working through pain in small, gentle ways builds trust far more reliably than any grand apology or sweeping promise ever could. When you can sit together in discomfort without retreating, you both learn that honesty deepens the love you are building together.

If you aren’t sure where to begin, here are a few questions you can ask each other when you feel ready:

• How can I better support you right now?

• Is there something I do that makes you feel distant from me?

• When you feel hurt, what helps you feel safe again?

• What are you most afraid of in our relationship?

• What does feeling connected look like to you?

• Is there anything I did today (or didn’t do) that you wish had been different?

Questions like these can feel vulnerable to ask and to answer. But over time, they build a shared language of care, one that allows both of you to feel seen as you truly are. You don’t have to ask or answer all of these questions immediately. More often than not, they tend to only appear in conversation during emotionally charged moments with each other. With that said, having the capacity to ask and answer these questions can provide you with the tools to heal your relationship.

Start by being present to help yourself and your child regulate any heightened emotions so that you both are in an executive state. Then, you can slowly approach these questions with the clarity and attention they need to begin your healing journey.

3. Create a Balance of Rituals and New Experiences

One of the simplest ways to begin bridging the lost time is to start replacing the empty years with new memories. Think of it as gently stitching together the time gap. These experiences can be the kinds of things you might have done all along if alienation had never happened, or they can be entirely new adventures you discover side by side. What matters is not the activity itself but the intention and commitment to be present and engaged with one another.

Examples of simple, everyday rituals:

• Sharing breakfast once a week at the same café.

• Watching a TV series or movie together and discussing it afterward.

• Doing grocery shopping side by side and cooking a meal.

• Calling every Sunday evening to catch up on the week.

• Sending each other a photo or voice note every day.

• Helping with household chores or other errands.

• Playing board games or video games together.

Examples of new experiences to explore together:

• Taking a weekend trip to a place neither of you has visited.

• Signing up for a class or workshop like cooking, pottery, or photography.

• Trying an unfamiliar type of cuisine.

• Visiting an exhibit, festival, or cultural event.

• Volunteering together for a cause you both care about.

What seems mundane often becomes the most meaningful. Over time, these simple patterns create a sense of safety and belonging that no single conversation can accomplish.

Another powerful way to build connection is to show genuine curiosity about each other’s interests, even if they don’t naturally excite you. If your child loves gaming or anime, ask them about their favorite characters. If your parent is passionate about gardening or classic films, invite them to teach you something about it.

You don’t have to pretend you love the same things. The act of showing interest says, “I care about what matters to you because you matter to me.” This small gesture can open doors that have been closed for years.

Keep in mind that consistency matters more than intensity. A hundred ordinary moments will build more trust than a single big expensive vacation or gift ever could.

4. Hold Space for Each Other’s Emotions

Most people refuse to share their emotions out loud in fear of judgment and dismissal. We learn to express how we feel indirectly through actions, silences, or small gestures without naming what’s happening inside. Very rarely, will someone hold space for you and listen without rushing to provide advice, distractions, or derail the conversation to their own solipsistic desires.

More often than not, these situations play out like this:

Person 1: I am having a hard time, my dog just died.

Person 2: Oh, I am so sorry, I remember when my cat died…

These types of conversational exchanges happen every day, and they program people to believe their emotional turmoil is irrelevant. They think that no one cares. And the truth is, most people don’t care.

Note: A great skill to practice holding space for others is to use Labels and Mirrors. You can read more about this in my article, titled “How to Talk With Your Alienated Child When They Don't Want to Talk To You.”

However, if you want to show your child that you do care, you have to know how to hold space for their emotions without changing the topic or dismissing them. It means suspending any judgment or emotional knee-jerk reactions so that you can ask thoughtful questions.

The right questions can help your child process their emotions and find their inner resolve to try again, even if they want to give up. It is a skill that one of my mentors referred to as Radiance.

Radiance typically refers to light and heat, emanating from a powerful source, such that the warmth and light are transferred to another place that would have been dark otherwise.

Both the alienated child and parent have the capacity to develop emotional radiance, where they can uplift another person through warmth, love, and kindness, by modeling healthy emotional attunement and holding space for others.

There is great power in practicing the simple act of describing your emotions in real time and sharing the potential reasons behind them. For example:

• Right now, I’m feeling anxious and worried about work.

• I am feeling mentally exhausted, and my mind feels foggy.

• I feel apprehensive. I am worried that something will go wrong, even though there is no reason for it to happen.

• My body feels light and I am excited about a project I am working on.

• I am still and calm, thoughtful and curious while reading.

• I feel warm and loved after spending time with my family.

Many alienated children will never feel comfortable doing this at first. The fear of conflict, rejection, or disappointing you makes open expression feel dangerous. That’s why one of the most healing things you can do as a parent is to model this behavior yourself.

One of the most effective ways to help your child navigate these emotions is to share how you learned the lessons they're learning now. Having the courage to tell them about your mistakes and how you had to learn the hard way makes it feel less isolating for your child.

There are two powerful effects of this practice:

1. You and your child both learn to recognize and describe what is happening inside, rather than reacting automatically.

2. You build trust by demonstrating that honest feelings don’t have to end connection.

It’s important to remember that sharing your emotions does not mean placing responsibility for them on the other person. This is where many attempts at vulnerability often lead to unfair blame.

If you say, You are making me feel…, you create defensiveness and shut down dialogue.

Instead, you can add a gentle clarification, “This isn’t your fault. It’s just what I’m feeling right now, and I wanted to be honest about it.”

That single sentence does a lot of heavy lifting. It allows you to be transparent without making the other person feel blamed or burdened. It sets the stage for a conversation rooted in understanding rather than accusation.

If they are angry or hurt, resist the reflex to defend yourself immediately. Listen first. Often, what appears to be rage is actually grief masquerading as anger. When the moment is calmer, you can say:

• I hear how upset you are, and it makes sense you’d feel that way.

• Thank you for trusting me enough to share this.

When you commit to holding space for the other person’s reactions, even if they don’t match your hopes or immediately support your feelings, you build resilience into the relationship. You show that discomfort doesn’t have to mean disconnection.

With practice, these moments become easier to manage. Over time, they form a new pattern for relating with radiance, even when it’s hard.

It’s also important to remember that many alienated parents will instinctively take a stoic approach when emotions rise. They might stay very calm and avoid showing their sadness or overwhelm, not because they don’t feel anything, but because they don’t want their child to feel responsible for comforting them.

If you are a parent who does this, know that it is understandable and nothing to be ashamed of. You are doing your best to protect your child from feeling like they have to take care of you emotionally, especially after everything they’ve already endured.

This is why having a strong support network matters so much. You don’t have to process all of your feelings in front of your child. You can lean on your spouse, a close friend, a therapist, or a support group—people who can hold space for you so you don’t feel alone in your grief.

If you are the child in this dynamic, you might notice your parent holding back or staying extra composed. You don’t have to take that as a sign that they are detached or unfeeling. Often, it’s the opposite. They care so deeply that they are trying to shield you from additional pain.

It can be powerful to simply say, I appreciate what you do for me, or I see how much you’re trying. These small acknowledgments go a long way in letting your parent know that their steadiness is noticed and valued.

Regardless of which side you are on, remember that holding space does not mean denying your own humanity. It just means choosing the right time and place to process your feelings so you can be present for each other in the moment.

5. Pause and Repair When Conflict Arises

Some of the hardest moments in rebuilding a relationship come when deep disagreements surface. You might find yourselves clashing over politics, sexuality, religious beliefs, your choice of partner, or their professional path. These topics can feel especially charged when you’ve already lost so much time together.

Sometimes, conflict is about differing philosophies or values. Other times, it’s a trauma response. In either case, what matters most is how you choose to respond when tension appears.

Most of the time, the other person is not acting out of malice. They are acting out of pain, confusion, or a deeply held need to feel seen and respected. It helps to ask yourself, “What might be underneath this reaction? What are they protecting or afraid of losing?”

Learning to pause before reacting gives you space to remain in the executive state so that you don’t get pulled into your own trauma response. This pause is about creating space to respond thoughtfully instead of reacting automatically.

When you are ready, try to channel curiosity rather than judgment. You can say things like:

• Can you help me understand what feels most important to you about this?

• What does this issue mean to you personally?

• What are you afraid might happen if we see this differently?

If you are dealing with hostility, leverage the skill of labels and mirrors to uncover the deeper frustrations and pains that lie beneath the surface.

If the conversation becomes too heated, it’s also okay to step away and return to it later. You can say, “I care about you and this relationship, and I want to have this conversation well. Let’s take a break and come back to it when we’re both calmer.”

It is perfectly okay to disagree. Agreement is not a requirement for love. What matters is showing each other that disagreement doesn’t cancel out respect or affection. At some point, you will both have to acknowledge that you are different people and that you will each do what you believe is best.

6. Celebrate Small Moments of Connection

When you’ve lost years to alienation, it’s natural to measure progress in big milestones: the first visit, the first holiday together, the first time you hear I love you again. But most healing doesn’t happen in the big moments. It happens in the quiet, ordinary ones.

You might not notice these moments at first because they don’t look dramatic. They look like a relaxed conversation over coffee, a shared laugh about something trivial, or a moment when you both feel comfortable sitting in silence.

These seemingly small experiences matter. They are evidence that trust is starting to grow.

It helps to get in the habit of naming and appreciating these moments out loud, even if it feels awkward at first. You can say:

• I really enjoyed spending time with you today.

• It felt nice to laugh together.

• Thank you for sharing that story with me.

Simple acknowledgments like these are small deposits in your relationship’s emotional bank account. Over time, they create a sense of safety and belonging that makes bigger conversations and deeper healing possible.

Remember, you don’t have to wait for everything to feel perfect to celebrate what is good. If you only focus on what’s missing, you will overlook the quiet ways your relationship is already changing.

By honoring these small steps, you reinforce for each other that this connection is real and is worth nurturing.

7. Seek Support Even If You Don’t Think You Need It

Rebuilding a relationship after alienation is an enormous emotional undertaking. Even with the best intentions, you will sometimes feel overwhelmed, discouraged, or unsure of what to do next.

It’s easy to believe you have to figure everything out alone, to prove your love by handling every challenge without help. But the truth is, you deserve support, too.

For parents, having a strong network of friends, a spouse, a counselor, or a support group can make all the difference. These are the people who can listen without judgment when you feel afraid or exhausted. They can help you process old grief in a place where it doesn’t spill onto your child.

For alienated children, reconnecting can stir up complicated emotions—loyalty conflicts, guilt, anger, and sadness. You don’t have to sort through those feelings in isolation. Therapy, peer support, or even a trusted mentor can help you find clarity and self-compassion as you navigate this new relationship.

If you’re not sure where to begin, start by asking yourself:

• Who do I feel safe talking to about this?

• Is there someone who has been through something similar?

• Would it help to have a professional guide me through these conversations?

Seeking help is not a sign of weakness; it is a sign of strength. It’s a sign that you care enough about this relationship to do the work in a healthy way. You show your child that healing means knowing when to reach out so you don’t have to carry it all alone.

No matter where you are in this journey, you don’t have to walk it by yourself. Help is out there. And every time you accept it, you reinforce the truth that you are worth the effort.

Becoming a Parent After Alienation

Becoming a parent is one of the most profound transitions any person can experience. For many who were alienated as children, this moment carries a unique weight that is both beautiful and terrifying.

On one hand, there is a deep longing to give your own child what you were denied—stability, unconditional love, the freedom to feel safe in their own skin. On the other hand, there is often a quiet dread.

• What if I repeat the very patterns I promised myself I would never pass down?

• What if I have a child with someone like the alienator?

• What if my child grows up to resent me the way I once resented my alienated parent?

• What if I fail to protect my child?

These fears are common and nothing to be ashamed of. They are the echoes of an old story, one in which you were forced to carry burdens you didn’t choose. When you step into the role of parent, all those unprocessed memories can rise to the surface.

You may find yourself feeling grief in unexpected places or a pang of sadness when you see your child laughing, because you remember how rare that was for you. Or a flicker of panic when your child cries, because no one comforted you when you were small.

At the same time, there can be moments of wonder. Moments when you look at your baby or your growing child and feel a surge of fierce love so powerful it breaks something open inside you. In those moments, you realize that this love has the potential to become the healing you once thought was unattainable.

If you feel these emotions of hope, fear, grief, and/or tenderness, know that you are not broken. You are simply human. And you are already doing something extraordinary: you are choosing to show up with your eyes open, even when it hurts.

That is the first step toward:

• Creating something different.

• Knowing how to break the cycle.

• Giving yourself the space to become the parent you know you can be.

• Trusting your loved ones not to do what your alienator did to you.

Every parent carries an invisible blueprint of what love, discipline, and family should look like. For those who grew up under alienation or abuse, that blueprint is often tangled.

You may find yourself torn between two powerful instincts. On one hand, there is the desire to do everything differently, and on the other hand, there are the unexamined habits you absorbed simply by surviving.

It can be disorienting to discover that when your child pushes your boundaries, or when you feel exhausted and unseen, old reflexes appear. Maybe it’s the urge to withdraw and shut down, or the impulse to control what feels unpredictable. You might hear an old voice in your head saying things you swore you would never repeat.

This is normal. It doesn’t mean you are doomed to repeat the past.

Parenthood has a way of shining a bright light on every unfinished piece of your own story. Sometimes, holding your baby or guiding your teenager stirs memories you thought you’d buried for good. You might find yourself grieving the childhood you never had, or feeling a surge of compassion for the parent you were once estranged from.

Seeing Your Formerly Alienated Parent as a Grandparent

One of the most unexpected parts of becoming a parent after alienation is seeing your once-alienated parent step into the role of grandparent.

If you are the formerly alienated child, this can feel profoundly healing. You may witness sides of your parent you never knew existed—patience, softness, delight in your child’s small milestones. It can feel like witnessing a kind of redemption. The parent who once felt distant or unavailable now has a chance to offer something different to your child.

Small gestures such as playing on the floor, reading bedtime stories, or attending school events can slowly ease the pain of the past.

But this isn’t always simple or purely joyful. Sometimes, it brings up a surprising ache where you might say, “I wish they were able to do this for me when I was young.”

These mixed emotions are normal. They don’t mean you are ungrateful or petty; rather, they remind you that you are human and that you still carry the memory of what was lost.

It helps to remember that your child’s bond with their grandparent is separate from your story. It doesn’t erase what you endured or minimize the pain you’ve had to process. It also doesn’t mean you have to pretend everything is fine or deny your own feelings.

You can hold both truths. You can feel grateful that your child has a caring grandparent and sad about what you never had. Over time, allowing both feelings to coexist can create more freedom and less resentment.

If you are the alienated parent becoming a grandparent, this season can also bring unexpected emotions. Seeing your once-estranged child step into parenthood may stir pride, hope, and longing. It might feel like another chance to be part of family life, to give the presence and care you struggled to provide before.

You may discover that spending time with your grandchild heals parts of you that still grieve the years you missed. Small moments, like rocking a baby to sleep, watching their first steps, and watching over them while your child is at work, can feel like pieces of life returning to you.

At the same time, you might feel unsure of your place. You may worry about overstepping or about whether your child trusts you to be involved. If your child sets boundaries that feel unfamiliar, it doesn’t mean they don’t value you. It often means they are working to parent differently, and that can be vulnerable for them.

If you can approach these moments with openness and humility, you have an opportunity to build a new foundation. A foundation where love is not tangled up in the past but anchored in the present.

And sometimes, this new role—grandparent, parent, witness—can become a bridge. A shared purpose together and a reason to gather around something hopeful, even if you never find perfect closure about what came before.

Navigating Different Parenting Views

For formerly alienated children who are now becoming parents, this new role may bring old disagreements with their parents back into focus. You might discover you hold very different ideas about what children need to thrive—ideas shaped by culture, parenting research, personal values, and the ways you were raised.

These differences can surface in countless ways:

• Discipline: Whether to use disciplinary consequences or gentle correction.

• Routines: How structured or flexible the day should be.

• Food: What’s “healthy,” what’s “too strict,” what’s “too indulgent.”

• Technology: How much screen time is okay.

• Boundaries: When to say no to your child or extended family.

• Religion: Whether the child (and by extension, the family) will follow a particular set of religious or spiritual beliefs.

• Sexuality: Determining whether LGBTQ+ is acceptable in the family or not.

Even when your parents’ intentions are loving, their opinions can sometimes feel intrusive, especially if you are still learning to trust your own instincts.

It’s common to feel torn between wanting their support and needing space to parent in your own way. You may fear that setting boundaries will be taken as rejection or ingratitude.

When this happens, try to:

• Pause before reacting. A defensive response is normal, but it is rarely helpful.

• Acknowledge the intention. I know you’re trying to help.

• State your needs clearly. I’d like to try it this way for now.

• Affirm your boundaries without apology. I appreciate your experience, but this is the approach we’ve chosen.

You are allowed to create your own family culture. You are allowed to parent differently. And you are allowed to protect your child from dynamics that didn’t serve you growing up.

For alienated parents who are now grandparents, stepping into this role can bring its own hopes and vulnerabilities. You might feel eager to offer your perspective or to be involved in ways you couldn’t be with your own child.

At times, you may feel surprised or hurt when your adult child chooses a different path, whether it’s about discipline, education, or values. The impulse to step in or correct them can be strong, especially if you believe your way is more “tried and true.”

It helps to remember that your child is carrying not only the everyday weight of raising a family but also the invisible work of healing. When they set boundaries or ask you to step back, it doesn’t always mean they don’t trust you or don’t love you. Sometimes it means they are learning how to feel safe in their role.

When disagreements arise, you can:

• Lead with respect. I see you care so much about doing this well.

• Avoid rushing to fix everything. Offer input only when invited or when safety is truly at risk.

• Be curious, not corrective. I’m interested, can you tell me more about why you chose this approach?

• Affirm their growth. You’re doing a wonderful job.

• Give them space. Let me know how I can support you and the family.

Your steady presence and acceptance can help your child feel more confident as a parent. Over time, this respect can also strengthen your bond in ways that weren’t possible before.

Disagreements about parenting are inevitable. But they don’t have to become battlegrounds. With patience and humility on both sides, they can become opportunities to practice something new—honest conversation, mutual respect, and the freedom to parent and grandparent without repeating the old story.

The Reality of Modern Parenting

Parenting today is an exhausting, high-pressure experience—even without the added complexity of alienation. Endless advice, financial stress, and the sheer relentlessness of daily responsibilities can make even the most committed parent feel overwhelmed.

If you grew up alienated, you may be especially hard on yourself. You might constantly scan for signs you’re repeating old mistakes or failing to give your child what you never had. Every meltdown or moment of doubt can feel like proof you’re unfit or unprepared.

Ironically, the more you learn about trauma, attachment, and mental health, the more pressure you may feel to get it all right. You know how much childhood experiences matter and that awareness can become its own source of anxiety. You may think, 'I should know better,' and feel ashamed when you still find yourself frustrated, checked out, or unsure of how to respond.

It helps to remember that knowing the principles or the latest research on attachment theory doesn’t mean you’ll always have the tools or the capacity to apply them. You are human. You will be tired, and you are allowed to be learning while you are parenting.

For alienated parents who are now grandparents, witnessing your child wrestle with these challenges can stir up complicated feelings from regret, protectiveness, or a longing to help them avoid the same mistakes you made. You may feel compelled to immediately step in or offer advice, not realizing that your involvement can sometimes come across as criticism rather than support.

The easiest way to offer support is to take a step back and observe where problems tend to recur. This includes scheduling challenges due to work, financial constraints resulting from the current economy, or simply not having the energy after spending every moment supporting the children.

One of the most meaningful ways to offer help is through practical support, especially childcare. In the U.S., the average annual cost of center-based infant daycare ranges from $6,552 to $15,600 per child, and in many areas, it can be significantly higher. In some families, daycare costs more than a mortgage. And while daycare can be a safe option, it often lacks the warmth, consistency, and emotional attunement that a grandparent or trusted caregiver can provide.

When a grandparent shows up to watch the grandchildren while the parents work or offers steady care, it can be an act of both generosity and quiet repair. It gives your children the chance to recover and even spend some much-needed time with their spouse. You have the capacity to support the health of their marriage, just by giving them the space to breathe, while you build a relationship with their child.

Siblings and Extended Family

It goes without saying that if a targeted parent can become a stranger, then siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, grandparents, and extended family feel even less familiar.

Reintegration with the extended family might feel easier than with the targeted parent. For the alienated child, there is less pressure to justify the emotional distance or confront the alienation. These relationships often carry fewer intense memories or conflicts, making it possible to approach them with cautious curiosity rather than deep ambivalence.

Still, the child may carry inherited narratives about who in the family is “safe” or “dangerous,” “loyal” or “manipulative.” Rebuilding trust means moving slowly, with patience and warmth, and understanding that even small gestures, like remembering a birthday or asking about their life, can create meaningful openings over time.

As a parent, you may hope that your alienated child quickly reconnects with a specific family member—perhaps a grandparent or a sibling they were once close to. But relationships reestablish themselves on the child’s timeline, not yours. What feels like an obvious bridge to you may feel like a risk to them, especially if those relatives were dismissed or denigrated by the alienating influence.

Allow these connections to grow organically, without pressure or expectation. The most effective support often comes not from orchestrated reunions but from creating conditions where love, familiarity, and safety can quietly reemerge.

Closing reflection

If there is one truth to carry with you as you navigate this chapter, it’s that healing after alienation is not about perfection, but about presence. It’s about the willingness to keep showing up, even when you feel unprepared or afraid.

You don’t have to fix everything that was broken. You don’t have to parent (or grandparent) without ever stumbling. What matters is that you are choosing new patterns, not just avoiding old ones.

Maybe that means sitting on the floor to play when it would be easier to stay guarded. Maybe it’s taking a breath before responding to your child’s frustration. Maybe it’s saying, I’m sorry, or I love you, or I don’t know, but I’m here.

These small choices are not insignificant. They are how the past stops dictating the future.

Every time you choose curiosity over judgment, repair over shame, presence over avoidance, you are building something that wasn’t there before. You are showing your child and yourself that love doesn’t have to be tangled up in fear.

You won’t always get it right. None of us do. But you can keep coming back to your intention to be the kind of parent or grandparent who is learning, who is willing to grow, and who believes it’s never too late to create a meaningful connection.

Finding love in your family after alienation is never automatic. Unlike romance, where you can start fresh with someone, you are patching up the past with hopes of building a new future.

Alienated children are never given roots to anchor them or wings to fly. The journey to restoring love in your family after alienation begins with watering them so they become rooted in a new home and encouraging them to challenge their limitations and fly to new heights.

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

If you liked this article, consider reading some of my previous articles:

• Finding Love After Alienation Part I

• How to Talk With Your Alienated Child When They Don't Want to Talk To You

• Escaping the Prison of the Mind

Roses are Red

My first relationship was when I was 16 with a girl named Celine (anonymized for her privacy).

Celine was a girl from China who went to school in Singapore with me. She was quiet and funny, a talented artist, loved dancing, and her favorite song (at that moment) was P.S. I Love You by the Beatles.

She lived close to where I lived, so in the mornings, we would walk to school together and talk. After school, she would attend dance class, and I would go to band, then we would walk home together.

As a teenage boy, I had no idea what I was doing.

I remember trying to play it cool, acting with the kind of bravado teenage boys often mistake for confidence. But Celine wasn’t impressed by that. What drew me in was something so simple… she was kind to me. Not just friendly like my classmates were, but genuinely sweet and gentle. She wanted to know more about me and took an interest in me.

I didn’t know how much I needed that softness until I met her.

As an alienated child, I was raised under strict rules where disobedience was punished with severity. I would pretend to be cool at school to mask the feelings of inadequacy and people pleasing that were instilled in me.

When your internal thoughts are about hiding your deep sense of inadequacy, seeing someone genuinely interested in you romantically evokes surprise and confusion instead of euphoria and warmth. “What? You want to know more about me?”

As silly as it sounds, I didn’t know what to do when I realized that Celine had a crush on me. Chances are, I was confused because I was slowly realizing that I was falling in love with her as well.

At the time, it felt pretty exhilarating. Complete unknown territory. It’s funny to look back at it now after getting married and becoming a parent. Everything felt so serious when I was a teenager.

The exact details are fuzzy to me now, but I remember telling her that I had fallen in love with her, to which she responded with, “Really? Awww yay!”

I didn’t tell anyone in my family about my new relationship. My stepmother was far too controlling, and I wanted the space to explore romance on my own terms. That said, I wasn’t able to do the things that most teenagers would do in a relationship. I was required to go home immediately after school or band—so I couldn’t spend too much extra time with Celine, or I would get in trouble. Money was tight, so there was no way I could convince my stepmother to let me take Celine on a lunch date either.

Celine was my first kiss. We had walked home together one evening, and there was that awkward pause where we stared at each other, not wanting to leave just yet. She broke the silence and meekly asked me, “Can I kiss you?”

Dating Celine made me feel powerful in a way that I had never felt before. I was a bit more grounded and less cocky. I felt like I mattered to someone. Being a foreign student in Singapore made me feel isolated at times, but with her, I didn’t feel alone.

Our relationship only lasted two weeks, not because of any failing between Celine and me, but because my stepmother (the alienator) found out.

She was livid, calling Celine every derogatory slur you can imagine as she screamed that dating would somehow lead to my failing in school. It didn’t matter that I was studying dutifully at home or that I had been getting A’s and B’s in a highly rigorous curriculum. In her eyes, Celine was an affront.

When my stepmother would scream at me, I usually froze up, took whatever beatings (verbal and/or physical), and waited for the storm to pass. Fighting back never ended well. However, the things she said about Celine without ever meeting her were infuriating. So, I tried to fight back.

I really wanted to stand up for Celine, but all I ended up doing was fueling the fire. After being smacked around a bit while being screamed at, I was trapped. But then, my stepmother demanded her phone number. I used every ounce of courage to tell her no. She shouted again, “Give me her phone number right now!”

My jaw was clenched so hard my face hurt. I stared daggers at her. She smacked me in the face.

Give me your phone right now, or I will break your bloody face.

In my mind, she was too powerful and I couldn’t fight her, so I reluctantly handed her my phone. It was a small old Nokia, so there wasn’t any password protection. She looked up Celine’s phone number and called her in front of me.

For about five minutes, I watched helplessly as she berated Celine on the phone, calling her names and demanding that she break up with me. I was deflated.

There is considerable pressure on young men to assume the roles of protector and provider as they grow into men. In that moment, I felt like I was not capable of protecting anyone, even those I loved. I folded under pressure, and the girl that I claimed to love was being viciously attacked in front of me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It hurt more than the hour of being screamed at and hit. Honestly, I would have preferred that a thousand times over. Celine didn’t deserve any of this.

When she was finished, my stepmother hung up the phone and threw my phone back at me.

“On Monday, you are going to break up with this slut and only focus on your studies. You understand? If you don’t do what I tell you, Andrew, I swear to God, I will hurt her and she will know it is because of you.”

I didn’t know exactly what her threat meant, but it scared me. I lost all faith in myself and was back to following orders. At that moment, my choices and sense of self didn’t matter. What little spark of my identity that came alive with Celine was extinguished by the shame that had flooded my entire system.

I wish I could say that I was stronger or that I had a secret relationship despite my Stepmother’s abuse. Instead, I followed orders. I figured that if I couldn’t shield Celine from my stepmother, then maybe she was better off without me.

I remember choking the words out, “Celine, I can’t protect you from her…”

Celine was a lot stronger and more resilient than I was. She was confused by the random scolding, but she didn’t let it affect her (or at least she didn’t show me if it did). She probably would have had the guts to keep going, but I was too afraid of my Stepmother.

Until I graduated, I purposely arrived at school 10 minutes later so I wouldn't have to see her in the mornings again. Some days, I would see her ahead of me. If she saw me, she would wave, and I would nod my head to acknowledge her. She may not have held the breakup against me, but I certainly did.

We would casually talk on and off every once in a while, but they were always short conversations. I couldn’t get my stepmother’s voice out of my head.

Choosing Not to Date

After Celine, I was afraid to date anyone. I ended up going through a cycle where I would meet someone I liked, flirt with them, but stop when I realized that the girl I was talking to would never be acceptable to my stepmother.

Finding a girlfriend felt like cutting my own bouquet of flowers. Beautiful at first, but I would have to watch them die after a few weeks.

In 2013, I decided to leave my abuser and go back home to the United States. At the time, I was doing this for my well-being. I knew I couldn’t be my true self if I continued living under her thumb. And if you were to ask me what the reason was for me to break away, I would say there are many reasons, and one of the big ones was the way things ended with Celine.

The shame weighed on my shoulders, and I never wanted to experience that again.

Life after leaving my alienator wasn’t easy. I was starting my life from scratch after abandoning everything I had—I had lost a full-ride engineering scholarship, left behind countless friends and family I missed, and turned away another girl I was talking to, but was too afraid to date. Moreover, I was dealing with the active alienation of my younger brother (born to my stepmother).

My father needed medical attention due to advanced MS, leading to a few different but ineffective treatments. Eventually, the neurologist suggested chemotherapy to do a hard reset of his immune system. I drove him to every chemo appointment and watched the nurse give him a drug to line his bladder with mucus so that the chemo wouldn’t corrode his bladder walls. After 20 minutes, they changed bags to drip in the chemo. Each time, I followed the little bubble down the IV, all the way until the poison entered his veins, where his whole body immediately shivered in pain.

With all this going on, dating was rarely on my mind. I often thought to myself, “I can’t get into a relationship until I get my brother back. If I had to choose between a girl and my family, I would choose my family.”

I held onto this belief for years.

Depression hit like a truck, and I lost my way. Dropped out of school because I couldn’t focus. In my mind, the only thing that mattered was fighting the alienation of my brother. I had just started my advocacy journey, and I was being invited to countless podcasts and other interviews.

If there were girls who showed interest in me, it likely went over my head. I was too on edge to be present in the moment. Even after the chemo treatments ended, I stopped believing I had the capacity to date. I kept telling myself that no sane woman would want to take on all of the baggage that I was carrying.

Occasionally, I would think of Celine and wish somehow I could go back to that feeling of bliss. But we had become different people, and while magically getting back together might make for a cute romance novel, it was not grounded in reality.

Every once in a while, I would muster up the courage to go on a date, only for it to fizzle out into nothing. Sometimes it was my fault, other times, I didn’t feel any connection. This would reinforce the message in my head:

I can’t date until I reunite with my brother.

My father saw this and warned me, “Andrew, you cannot put your life on hold just because your brother is being kept from us.”

I hated hearing it. Deep down, I wanted to believe that I was doing what needed to be done. Love can wait until reunification.

Violets are Blue

In 2017, I made major changes in my life (I discuss them in greater detail in my article, "Escaping the Prison of the Mind"). I was determined to put my life together on my terms, and I wasn’t going to let my beliefs about romance hold me back. I had been making slow progress in reconnecting with my brother, so I loosened up my no-dating rule.

Around 2018, I met June (also anonymized for her privacy). We met online through the alienation groups. She was an alienated child and partook in small amounts of advocacy for parents.

June was ethereal—fascinated by the world and all the beauty it had to hold. She loved reading about space and spirituality and would write songs and poetry in her spare time. Her prose was chaotic. It never followed a specific rhythm like Dickinson or Frost. Instead, it was a seamless blend of metaphors, each line yearning for something that I couldn’t quite place.

We would play a game where we would give each other five random words, and then we would both write a poem based on them. After a year of chatting, writing poems, and learning more about each other, I booked a flight and flew over to meet her in person.

At first, June seemed really nervous, and I empathized with her. Online friends are always safe because of the convenient barrier that the internet provides. Meeting in person would change the dynamic permanently. I gave her space, and when she felt more confident, we went out to eat.

June was living with her grandmother, who was a retired nurse. Her grandmother drove us to a Chinese buffet, and we all started chatting. My arrival was a surprise to June’s grandmother—June never mentioned that I was coming, even though I had shared my flight plans months before. She asked how June and I met, and I shared how we bonded over mutual interests like alienation advocacy, poetry, and spirituality.

Strangely, June started getting uncomfortable. She was shifting in her seat a lot, and when she could not handle it any longer, she abandoned her plate of food and said she was going to smoke in the car. I paused, wondering if I had crossed a line unintentionally.

June’s grandmother broke the silence.

“Andrew, you seem like a good kid, so I am going to tell you the truth. June has severe agoraphobia. When she was living with her mother, she was given antihistamines as a child to sedate her. June was pulled out of school in 8th grade by her mother, cannot drive, and she smokes a lot of pot [marijuana] to manage her anxiety. I have been trying to wean her off the antihistamines, but she has a serious addiction…she takes almost 40 tablets a day.”*

*I don’t know if the number of tablets a day was accurate, I am just reflecting back what I was told. Taking antihistamines like Benedryl in overdosing quantities not only induces hallucinations but also warps your neuroplasticity over time.

At that moment, I had only met June for 2 hours, and I still had four and a half days left until my flight home. At first, I wanted to see the truth for myself. After alienation, I didn’t want to jump to conclusions just because someone said something shocking and dramatic about someone else. Unfortunately, June’s condition was indeed true.

I watched her that night chain-smoke blunts to manage her anxiety. I have seen some extreme smoking from college friends. But nothing compared to what I had seen with June.

She would look at me innocently, offering me a smoke, but I gently declined. She would go on talking about an article she read about rockets, and I listened to her sultry but raspy voice.

I woke up early that next morning and stared at the wall for 2 hours, entirely at a loss. On one hand, the person I thought I was going to meet was utterly different than the person I had met. On the other hand, she was one of the most extreme victims of child abuse that I had ever witnessed in my life.

I couldn’t help but think that in another life or universe, I could have been walking in her shoes. Her behaviors made more sense to me. They were all survival reactions in a world where the person who should have loved her most, treated her as someone subhuman.

There were small moments where I would get a glimpse of who she really was—the little girl inside who had a deep curiosity about the world. Wondering who that girl could have grown into was a solemn thought.

I did my best to be supportive and kind, even when I was caught in the middle of June’s trauma responses. Most of the time, June would clash with her Grandmother, not wanting to cut down on the antihistamine use and avoiding small hygiene tasks like putting her leftover food in the fridge and then washing the plate. I could see the agony in her grandmother’s eyes. She desperately wanted June to be a normal girl with a job, who would one day fall in love and start a family.

My flight home was around 5 am, so on the night before I left, I took June out to a garden where she could feel like a person again. There were well over 50 acres of different flowers and shrubs from all over the world. June loved taking pictures.

That night, June hugged me, her face buried in my chest as she whimpered, “Don’t go… please…please, don’t go…” I stayed up all night with her and kept a strong stoic face. At the airport, I hugged her goodbye and had no idea what would come next.

As the plane took off, I broke down into an uncontrollable fit of silent crying. I usually have a strong hold on my emotions, and I rarely ever cry, but I was carrying 5 days of charged pain and emotion. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had met someone who had spiritually died a long time ago, and all that was left was her body to grow older, lost in purgatory.

I wish there were a happy ending for this story, but June later returned to her alienator. She accused her grandmother of being abusive, likely fueled by the addiction to antihistamines and the alienating behavior of her mother.

I don’t know if she will ever be rehabilitated.

Loving Yourself

I share these stories first because I want to articulate the severity of the damage that is possible to your romantic life as a result of alienation and abuse. For alienated kids, the alienator will stand in the way of your romantic life, especially if they fear your partner can hold greater sway over you than they can.

In cases like June, romance takes a backseat to issues like managing the addiction and her educational and emotional deficits. However, let’s not forget that grandparents and parents (even the alienator) inevitably grow old. Without an education, professional skills, and a family, you will likely find yourself in dangerous places alone or worse, in the company of predatory people.

Alienation robs a child of more than just a parent. It erodes their capacity for intimacy, their belief that love is safe, and their ability to trust not only others but themselves. It rewires the nervous system to flinch at affection and brace for abandonment. Some, like June, never get the chance to build themselves a foundation to stand on. Others, like me, spend years trying to rebuild one brick at a time.

For an alienated parent, there is the struggle to find the ability to trust again. After being vilified by someone you once shared a life with, and rejected by the very child you raised, every new relationship feels like walking across glass barefoot. Parents targeted by alienators will spend years questioning their ability to trust another person.

Because let’s face it.

At one point, these parents trusted them enough to believe they would build a life and family together. You question every motive and second-guess every emotion. Vulnerability becomes dangerous. Intimacy becomes a risk you calculate, not a gift you receive.

Dating feels like navigating a minefield for both the alienated parent and child. Will they understand my past? Will they think I’m too broken? Will they recoil when I tell them I haven’t spoken to my child/parent in years, not because I didn’t want to, but because I wasn’t allowed?

You might find yourself over-explaining, apologizing for things that were never your fault, or pulling away before someone can get too close. You may settle for less than you deserve because you no longer trust your gut to recognize love that’s real. Or worse, you might chase intensity that mimics your trauma, mistaking emotional chaos for passion.

While my own stories come from the perspective of a formerly alienated child, there is easily room for overlap for an alienated parent.

Alienation distorts the very framework by which love is understood. Abusers don’t need to convince you that you’re unlovable directly; they reshape your reality until you start doing the job for them.

This happens gradually. Over time, you stop recognizing what’s healthy, what’s kind, what’s real. And the more detached you become from your own internal compass, the easier it is for someone else to drive your sense of self-worth.

Here’s how that erosion usually unfolds:

• Isolation disguised as protection or loyalty.
  “They don’t understand you like I do.” “They just want to turn you against me.” You’re slowly distanced from friends, extended family, mentors, or even your own children. Over time, your world shrinks until their voice is the only one you hear.

• Reframing your strengths as threats.
  Assertiveness becomes aggression. Independence becomes disloyalty. Intelligence becomes arrogance. You’re punished for outgrowing the role they assigned you until you learn to suppress your strengths to preserve the peace.

• Pathologizing your emotions.
  If you’re sad, you’re “too sensitive.” If you’re angry, you’re “unstable.” If you’re confused, you’re “overthinking.” They turn natural emotional responses into evidence that something is wrong with you.

• Punishing autonomy.
  Anytime you make a decision without their input, especially one that benefits your well-being, it’s met with retaliation, sabotage, or withdrawal.

• Withholding affection as control.
  Love becomes conditional. It is only offered when you comply, and withdrawn when you express yourself. Over time, you equate affection with obedience rather than connection.

• Using guilt as a leash.
  You’re made to feel responsible for their moods, failures, and even their abuse. “Look what you made me do.” “I wouldn’t act this way if you didn’t provoke me.” Their dysfunction becomes your fault.

• Shaming your past.
  They dig into your vulnerabilities and use them as weapons to keep you small. Any attempt at growth is met with reminders of who you “really” are.

• Creating double binds.
  No matter what you choose, you’re wrong. Speak up? You’re combative. Stay silent? You’re complicit. Show emotion? You’re manipulative. Stay stoic? You’re cold. These lose-lose setups wear down your internal clarity.

• Gaslighting your reality.
  They deny obvious facts, rewrite conversations, and insist that your memory is flawed. You begin to doubt your senses, your timeline, and eventually your sanity.

• Weaponizing forgiveness.
  They pressure you to forgive before there’s accountability. They use spiritual or moral language to silence your anger: “You need to let it go.” “A good person wouldn’t hold a grudge.” This distorts your ability to recognize injustice and enforce boundaries.

• Staging false redemption arcs.
  Periods of kindness or affection are used to reset the cycle. They apologize, cry, or make big promises, but only as a tactic to draw you back in. Your longing for repair becomes the hook.

• Encouraging self-betrayal.
  They pressure you to act against your values until your self-respect is compromised. Then they call you a hypocrite.

• Sabotaging your healing.
  They mock your therapy, ridicule your self-help books, or insist that they know what’s best for you. Growth becomes something you’re punished for rather than supported in.

• Distorting your idea of love.
  They convince you that love is supposed to hurt, that chaos is passion, that jealousy is devotion. They train you to associate intensity with intimacy, so that you chase pain while avoiding peace.

This is how abuse, especially within alienation, becomes self-sustaining. You internalize their voice. At a certain point, the abuser lives in your head, and you abandon yourself before anyone else can do it.

And that is why rebuilding real, grounded, honest self-love is necessary for you to break free from these patterns and set yourself up for your future.

Everyone has likely heard that loving yourself is the first step to building a strong and healthy relationship because if you seek someone to love you before loving yourself, you will find someone who gives you the illusion of love in exchange for control over you. But here is the rub.

How can you know if someone loves you if you don’t know what love is?

The idea of loving yourself always seems to be poorly explained. It is not as simple as looking in the mirror and repeating “I love myself” over and over again until it sticks.

Ask anyone on the street whether they have self-love, and they might pause and think, “Uhm yeah? Of course I do…” yet when you watch their actions and beliefs, you might find love for themself to be mostly absent.

At first glance, we see love as a process of acceptance and admiration. But self-love is far less glamorous than that. It’s not always about feeling good. More often, it’s about making disciplined choices that protect your long-term well-being, even when they’re painful or lonely in the short term.

To truly love yourself, you have to examine how your internal thoughts reflect your true beliefs about yourself. In other words, if you were to map out your thoughts and emotions, would you be able to say that you:

1. Respect yourself
   Do you speak to yourself with dignity, especially when you fail or fall short? Do you honor your values in the face of pressure?

2. Trust yourself
   Do you believe your instincts are valid, or do you constantly seek external confirmation before acting? Do you back your decisions, or do you constantly second-guess yourself?

3. Know yourself
   Do you have clarity on what you want, need, and fear? Can you distinguish between what you value and what you were conditioned to value?

4. Forgive yourself
   Are you willing to let go of past mistakes, or do you weaponize them to keep yourself small?

5. Protect yourself
   Do you set and enforce boundaries when someone violates your dignity, or do you shrink and rationalize abuse?

6. Prioritize yourself
   Do your needs matter in your own life, or are they always coming after others' expectations?

7. Believe in yourself
   When an opportunity arises, is your first instinct to move forward or to disqualify yourself before trying?

8. Speak up for yourself
   Do you advocate for your truth, or do you stay quiet to avoid rocking the boat?

9. Are honest with yourself
   Do you acknowledge uncomfortable truths, even when they challenge your ego? Or do you hide behind rationalizations that keep you stuck?

10. Show up for yourself
    When life gets hard, do you abandon your well-being, or do you show yourself the same care you would give a friend?

11. Invest in yourself
    Do you put energy, time, and resources into your growth and healing, or only into what pleases others?

12. Celebrate yourself
    Can you receive compliments and feel proud of your progress, or do you dismiss your achievements as not enough?

13. Stay with yourself
    When you’re in emotional pain, do you numb, run, or blame, or can you sit with yourself in compassion?

14. Enjoy Yourself

    Do you allow joy, pleasure, and play in your life without guilt or justification? Or is your worth tied only to productivity, usefulness, or suffering?

15. Validate Yourself

    Do you believe your emotions are real and worthy of attention, even if others don’t understand or agree with them? Or do you gaslight yourself into silence?

16. Define Yourself

    Do you have a sense of self that isn’t defined by trauma, family roles, or relational obligations? Or is your identity still built on being someone else’s savior, scapegoat, or fixer?

17. Support Yourself Through Change

    Can you remain loyal to yourself as you grow, evolve, and let go of old versions of you? Or do you shame yourself for not being who you used to be?

18. Feel Safe With Yourself

    When you’re alone with your thoughts, do you feel at peace or under attack? Can you be alone without spiraling into self-hate or panic?

This list is expansive on purpose. Many people might fixate on 3-4 of these and miss the rest without even realizing that their doubts and fears are filling them with deep self-hatred. It’s easy to believe you love yourself just because you’ve stopped calling yourself names out loud, but what about the way you abandon yourself emotionally when things get hard? What about the way you tolerate mistreatment because you secretly believe it’s the best you can get?

Self-hatred doesn’t always show up as loathing. Sometimes, it disguises itself as:

• Perfectionism – Believing you're only worthy if you never make a mistake.

• Overachievement – Proving your value through relentless productivity or success.

• Staying silent to keep the peace – Swallowing your truth to avoid conflict or abandonment.

• Hyper-independence – Refusing help because you don’t believe your needs deserve attention.

• The inability to receive love without suspicion – Assuming affection is manipulation in disguise.

• Chronic people-pleasing – Abandoning your needs so others won’t reject you.

• Self-deprecating humor – Making yourself the punchline to preempt real criticism.

• Avoiding rest or play – Feeling guilty when not being "useful" or "productive."

• Sabotaging relationships – Leaving before they can hurt you, because you assume they will.

• Tolerating disrespect – Believing that mistreatment is normal or all you deserve.

• Minimizing your pain – Saying “it wasn’t that bad” because you’ve internalized neglect.

• Avoiding mirrors or photos – Not wanting to see yourself because shame runs deep.

• Chronic indecision – Not trusting yourself enough to make choices.

• Fear of being truly seen – Hiding your authentic self to avoid rejection.

• Numbing with distractions – Avoiding inner life through food, screens, substances, or chaos.

• Over-apologizing – Feeling responsible for others’ feelings, discomfort, or anger.

• Romanticizing unavailability – Being drawn to people who confirm your unworthiness.

• Avoiding compliments – Brushing them off because they don’t match your internal narrative.

And because these behaviors can appear functional (some even admirable), many people live for years without realizing they are rooted in feelings of unworthiness.

This is why true healing demands rigorous honesty.

You can’t just “positive think” your way out of alienation’s damage. You have to observe the ways you were taught to disconnect from your own humanity. You have to trace your relational reflexes back to the moments they were formed—when love became dangerous, or conditional, or invisible. And then you have to rebuild, one habit and boundary at a time.

How to learn to love yourself

Carl Rogers listed 3 key elements in his Humanistic Psychology theory:

• Congruence – being authentic and transparent, rather than wearing masks or personas

• Empathy – the ability to deeply understand and feel another person’s internal world

• Unconditional Positive Regard – accepting someone fully, without judgment, regardless of their behavior or choices

While these principles were initially applied to therapists working with clients, Rogers later emphasized that these qualities were just as essential for self-relationship as they were for interpersonal healing. Of the three, Unconditional Positive Regard stands out as both the most radical and the most misunderstood.

Most people associate it with blind self-acceptance or a vague sense of self-esteem. But true unconditional positive regard isn’t about giving yourself a free pass or pretending you have no flaws. It’s about learning to hold space for your full humanity even when you’re ashamed, afraid, inconsistent, or lost.

That kind of self-regard is not automatic. It is built.

And for those of us who grew up under the weight of alienation, abuse, or conditional love, it may feel completely foreign. When you've spent years walking on eggshells to please a volatile parent or proving your worth to receive a tiny bit of affection, loving yourself without condition feels unnatural. Like a language you were never taught.

But here’s the truth: You can learn it. And you must.

Because your ability to love yourself is what determines how deeply and safely you will experience love, belonging, and purpose in the world. It is also the first step to helping your alienated child learn to love you and themselves.

Before we get into the how, it’s important to clear up two major myths that prevent people from developing this kind of relationship with themselves.

Myth #1: Self-love is just about being kind to yourself.
While self-compassion matters, love is not just a feeling. It’s a way of being. Real self-love includes discipline, protection, honesty, boundaries, and vision. You do not love a child by only giving them comfort. You love them by preparing them for life. The same is true for you.

Myth #2: Trauma defines who you are.
Many people wrap their entire identity around what was done to them. But self-love means deciding who you are beyond survival. You must define your character, your values, your way of being, and then step into it. Again and again. Not because it’s easy, but because you refuse to live in someone else’s shadow.

Disclaimer:

Before we begin, please note that I am not a licensed therapist. This framework shared below is not a substitute for professional mental health care. While I draw from established therapeutic models and personal experience, the content here is educational and reflective and not clinical advice.

Additionally, the exercises included in each step are optional tools meant to support your self-exploration. You are not expected to complete every one and no one is grading your homework. Choose what resonates, adapt them to your needs, and approach them at your own pace. Your likelihood of success is determined by your level of commitment to your personal growth.

If you are currently in crisis or dealing with significant trauma, I strongly encourage you to seek guidance from a qualified mental health professional.

Step 1: Recognition

Self-love begins with awareness, not affirmation. If you want to change your relationship with yourself, you must first learn to interrupt it—to step back from the automatic stories, reactions, and patterns that have governed your life in the background.

Most people move through their lives without pausing. A trigger appears, and the reaction follows. Criticism leads to self-hate. Rejection leads to withdrawal. A bad day leads to old coping habits. There is no space between the event and the internal collapse.

Recognition is the deliberate practice of creating that space.

It means training yourself to stop—even for a couple of seconds—before the default reaction takes over. In that pause, you gain access to a different path. You become capable of noticing:

• What am I feeling?

• What story am I telling myself right now?

• Where did I learn to respond this way?

• Is this behavior aligned with the person I want to become?

The pause is simple in theory and incredibly difficult in practice, especially if you’ve lived in fight-or-flight for years. But the more you do it, the more natural it becomes.

If you read this and do nothing with it, your nervous system will revert to its previous programming. Your day-to-day thoughts will once again be consumed by immediate emotions, external stressors, and familiar patterns. Recognition isn’t a concept—it’s a discipline. And it only works when you practice.

To recognize your patterns, you must become a student of yourself. This doesn’t mean psychoanalyzing every emotion or obsessively watching your behavior; it means noticing with curiosity instead of contempt.

You ask questions:

• Why did I shrink back in that conversation?

• Why did I dismiss that compliment?

• What am I avoiding by staying busy?

• What part of me believes I don’t deserve good things?

The goal is not to fix everything overnight. The goal is to observe. When you name a pattern, you separate from it. And once you’ve separated from it, you can change it.

One of the biggest traps in this phase is self-judgment. You start noticing your patterns, and then shame yourself for having them.

This is where the difference between judgment and evaluation becomes crucial.

• Judgment is subjective and loaded with emotion. It sounds like:
  “I’m so dramatic. I always ruin things. I’m pathetic.”

• Evaluation, by contrast, is objective. It acknowledges what’s happening without degrading the self. It sounds like:
  “I noticed I raised my voice during that conversation. I was overwhelmed and trying to feel in control.”

Judgment punishes. Evaluation informs.

Judgment keeps you trapped. Evaluation creates a path forward.

A person who evaluates themselves can improve. A person who judges themselves stays stuck in shame.

Practices for Step 1

1. Practice the Art of the Pause:

   Choose one emotional trigger you often experience (e.g., feeling ignored). For the next 7 days, your goal is to insert 5 seconds between the trigger and your usual response. That’s it. Build the muscle.
   

2. Self-Questioning Journal:

   Every evening, ask:

   1. What did I do today that didn’t feel like me?

   2. When did I abandon my needs to avoid discomfort?

   3. What belief drove that action?

   4. What would I do differently if I believed I was already enough?
      

3. Judgment → Evaluation Reframe:
   Take one self-critical thought you had this week. Write it down. Now rewrite it as an evaluation. Replace shame with observation. Practice this daily.

When can you expect a measurable difference?

You stop living inside your reactions. You begin to observe them with enough distance to choose differently. You stop degrading yourself and start understanding yourself. And that makes all future change possible.

Step 2: Reconnection

Once you’ve created space to observe your patterns, the next step is to turn inward—to reconnect with the parts of you you’ve been avoiding, overriding, or suppressing. Most people try to heal by analyzing their thoughts or reading more content. But true healing isn’t intellectual. It’s relational.

Reconnection is about becoming someone you’re willing to sit with. Someone you don’t abandon when emotions get uncomfortable or memories surface uninvited. It’s about feeling safe in your own presence.

Many survivors of trauma or neglect struggle to feel at home in their bodies. Sensations are dulled, or they’re overwhelming. Emotions either hijack you or feel out of reach. Your internal world becomes something to avoid, not explore. But your body isn’t the enemy. Your emotions aren’t the enemy. They’ve never been met with consistent care.

When your chest tightens, when your throat closes, when your stomach drops—don’t dismiss it. Pause and breathe with it. Ask what it’s trying to tell you. Then, instead of trying to fix it, sit with it for just a moment longer than you usually would. That moment is where safety begins.

You can also begin rebuilding emotional literacy by checking in with yourself each day.

Ask: What am I feeling right now? Where do I feel it in my body? What does this part of me need?

You don’t have to act on it. The practice is to listen without shutting it down.

Inside your internal system, you’ll start to recognize different voices—an inner critic, a perfectionist, a scared child. These are not problems to eliminate. They are parts of you that adapted to survive. Start talking to them.

Literally.

Ask what they’re afraid of. Thank them for trying to protect you. Tell them they don’t have to work so hard anymore. Over time, they’ll begin to trust you back.

Reconnection also includes offering yourself the kind of consistent care you needed but didn’t receive. This is reparenting. It might look like:

• Saying no to unhealthy food

• Getting enough sleep each night

• Drinking water before you get a headache

• Speaking kindly to yourself when you make a mistake, instead of replaying it with shame

• Taking breaks when you're tired, instead of earning rest through exhaustion

• Giving yourself permission to feel joy without needing to justify it with productivity

• Setting a boundary with someone who drains you, even if they never notice or thank you for it

The instinct will be to skip this step. To get back to goals and “doing.” But if you keep skipping the part where you actually feel, you’ll keep circling the same emotional dead ends. You can’t outrun disconnection. You can only soften it by staying with yourself.

Practices for Step 2

Body Awareness Practice:
Each morning or evening, take 2 minutes to scan your body from head to toe. Notice any tension, numbness, or discomfort. Don’t try to change anything. Just witness it.

1. Daily Emotional Check-In:
   Once a day, write down:

   1. What am I feeling?

   2. Where do I feel it?

   3. What does it need?

   This builds emotional vocabulary and internal trust.
   

2. Inner Part Dialogue:
   When a critical or fearful voice shows up, pause and ask:

   1. What are you trying to protect me from?

   2. What would help you feel less afraid?

   3. Speak to that part as if it were a child, not to silence it, but to comfort it.
      

3. Reparenting Ritual: Choose one act of care you wish someone had offered you growing up. Start doing that for yourself daily. Keep it small and consistent.

When can you expect a measurable difference?

You stop ignoring yourself during emotional pain. You begin to experience your body and emotions not as threats, but as signals that guide you. You become someone your inner world can trust again, and that trust becomes the foundation for everything that follows.

Step 3: Reclamation

Recognition teaches you to observe your patterns. Reconnection helps you listen to what your body and emotions have been trying to say. But eventually, you reach a point where you have to stop reacting to the past and start choosing the future. That’s where reclamation begins.

Reclamation is about taking back authorship over your identity. It's about stepping out of the roles you were cast into—like the scapegoat, the fixer, the invisible one—and saying, “That’s not who I am anymore.”

It is also a place where you release the ghosts of the past that haunt you. Romances that go awry, especially if there were forces outside your control (like my relationships with Celine and June), leave you feeling a sense of nostalgic yearning, where you wish there were a better ending. You might even catch yourself lost in the moment, imagining “what if things went another way?” While the aching pain is normal, allowing it to grow and take over can be highly corrosive to your present and potential relationships.

If you were raised in an environment that was unpredictable or conditional, chances are your personality became a tool for survival. You became whatever you needed to be to stay safe. Quiet. Perfect. Helpful. Invisible. Strong. The problem is, when those traits get hardwired, you confuse who you had to be with who you actually are.

To reclaim yourself, you have to get clear on what you value, not what you were praised or punished for, or what others expect. You ask:

• What do I care about?

• What kind of person do I admire?

• What qualities feel aligned with who I want to be, not just when I’m winning, but when I’m struggling?

You may not have answers right away. That’s okay. Reclamation isn’t about rushing. It’s about remembering.

You also begin rewriting your story. That doesn’t mean pretending the pain didn’t happen. It means refusing to let the pain be the ending. You start to shift your internal narrative from “I was broken by what happened” to “I was shaped, but not defined, by what I survived.”

One of the most powerful ways to do this is to reframe your origin story. Write it from the perspective of someone who was doing the best they could in impossible circumstances. Acknowledge the cost of survival, but also the strength.

Then ask: Who do I want to be now that I’m no longer in survival mode?

Reclamation also means resisting the urge to explain your changes to everyone. You don’t need to announce that you’re healing. You don’t need to justify your new boundaries, values, or energy. At the end of the day, it is not about what other people think. The more you embody who you are becoming, the less you’ll feel the need to explain. People will notice. And if they don’t, that’s not your concern. You’re not doing this for their recognition. You’re doing it because it’s who you choose to be.

This step isn’t loud or flashy. It is also not angry or dramatic. It’s often gentle, quiet, and subtle. A small internal pivot from pleasing others to honoring yourself. From hiding to standing in your truth. From avoiding pain to stepping forward with clarity.

Practices for Step 3

1. Define Your Core Values: Write down 5-10 values you want to live by—words like honesty, courage, compassion, creativity, discipline.
   
   Then reflect:

   1. What does it look like to live these values when I’m afraid?

   2. When I’m tired?

   3. When I’m alone?
      

2. Rewrite Your Origin Story: Describe a key memory from your childhood that shaped how you see yourself. Then rewrite it from the voice of your future self, someone who sees the whole truth and doesn’t confuse survival with shame.
   

3. Boundary Rehearsal: Practice saying “no” in low-stakes situations. Decline a favor. Leave a conversation early. Skip an obligation. Each time you do, remind yourself that this is what it means to protect who I’m becoming.

4. Belief Detox: List three beliefs that have kept you small or silent. Next to each one, write a counter-belief rooted in truth. Repeat these new beliefs daily until they start to feel more familiar than the old ones.

When can you expect a measurable difference?

You begin to feel like a participant in your own life, not a character written by someone else. You act in alignment with your chosen values, not just your triggers. And for the first time, you don’t just know who you’re not, you start to know who you are.

Step 4: Rebuilding

This is where most people want to start. They want the actions, the strategies, and the changes. But rebuilding only works after you’ve gone through the earlier steps—after you’ve paused, listened, and reclaimed your sense of self.

Rebuilding is the phase where you translate self-love into behavior. Not promises. Not potential. Action.

For both alienated parents and alienated children, the alienator often attacks your confidence as a method of control. They tell you, explicitly or implicitly, that you’re helpless without them. That you’re not capable, not smart enough, not resilient enough to function on your own. And over time, you start to believe them. Their voice becomes your own inner critic. Even when they’re not physically present, the conditioning lingers.

This step is how you prove them wrong, not with revenge, but with evidence.

Rebuilding is about providing yourself with measurable proof that you are capable and competent. That you can handle life, make decisions, solve problems, take initiative, and follow through. You don’t start by doing everything perfectly. You start by doing one small thing that challenges your self-doubt. Then another and another.

Eventually, you realize: the voice that told you “you can’t” was lying.

The process is progressive. You begin with low-risk efforts—things you can try, fail at, and try again. As your confidence grows, you increase the difficulty. You take on more meaningful challenges. One day, you look up and realize that you're doing things at an expert level you once thought were impossible.

This is how competence inspires confidence. The more you try, the more data you collect that you can handle discomfort, bounce back from failure, and make progress—imperfectly, but consistently.

One of the biggest traps in this stage is all-or-nothing thinking. If you can’t do it perfectly, you don’t do it at all. If you can’t feel confident, you don’t try. But confidence doesn’t precede action. It follows action. And progress doesn’t require perfection. It requires movement.

Rebuilding also means creating systems around your values, not your moods. You don’t wait until you feel motivated to do the thing. You create the conditions where your desired behaviors are more likely to happen.

• If your value is health, you prep nourishing meals.

• If your value is courage, you set up regular opportunities to speak up.

• If your value is connection, you commit to initiating conversations—even awkward ones.

These systems become the backbone of your new identity. They teach your nervous system what safety looks like in real life: structure, consistency, and self-respect.

This stage is also where your inner critic tends to resurface. You might hear: “Who do you think you are?” or “You’ve tried this before and failed.” That’s expected. The goal isn’t to silence that voice, but to keep moving while it speaks.

You act anyway. You apply anyway. You write anyway. You ask anyway. Because every time you take action that aligns with your values, you teach yourself that you can be trusted. And that is the foundation of unshakable self-respect.

Practices for Step 4

1. Micro-Bravery: Each week, identify one small but meaningful action that scares you slightly. Do it. Reflect on what happened and what you learned. Track your progress—not in outcomes, but in effort.
   

2. Competence Loop: Pick a skill you’ve avoided because of self-doubt. Break it into tiny steps. A great exercise to break down a goal is to use this framework.
   
   “To do X, I must do Y… To do Y, I must do Z…To do Z, I must do…”
   
   Continue this process until you have the tiniest first step mapped out ahead of you. Learn → Try → Reflect → Repeat. Let failure be your teacher.
   

3. Evidence Journal: Every day, write down one way you showed up for yourself. A decision, a boundary, a moment of honesty, a task completed. This builds a growing bank of proof that you are trustworthy.
   

4. System Support: Choose one of your values and build a small, repeatable system around it. This could be as simple as a 10-minute morning routine, a weekly check-in, or a recurring event that aligns with who you want to become.

When can you expect a measurable difference?

You begin to act in ways that align with your chosen identity, even when it’s uncomfortable. You stop being driven by emotion alone and start creating structure around your values. You start to believe in yourself, not because of a mantra, but because you have proof. The voice of the alienator no longer controls your confidence. You do. And your life starts to reflect the person you decided to become.

Step 5: Reintegration

The final step isn’t about completion—it’s about return. After you’ve done the inner work of recognition, reconnection, reclamation, and rebuilding, there comes a moment when you begin to bring that work back into your relationships, your rhythms, and your life as a whole.

This is reintegration.

Reintegration means embracing self-love, not just privately, but also relationally. You stop compartmentalizing who you’re becoming. You begin to move through the world in alignment with the self you’ve rebuilt, and you let that self be visible.

This doesn’t mean performing your healing, giving lectures about boundaries, or making speeches about trauma. It means embodying your healing so clearly that the people around you begin to adjust, even if they don’t understand you yet.

Reintegration also involves confronting major fears like:

• What happens when I show up as my full self, and not everyone likes it?

• What if some people pull away?

• What if my family doesn’t approve?

• What if I lose connections I once depended on?

These are real risks. Reintegration is not without grief. But what you gain is far more important, namely peace, clarity, and a life that actually belongs to you.

This is the stage where your values begin to guide your decisions automatically. You no longer have to debate whether to abandon yourself to avoid discomfort. The answer is clear. You don’t. You may still feel fear, but it no longer outranks your integrity.

You also begin to allow safe people back in. Not because you need rescuing, but because you understand that healthy connections are part of healing. You give yourself permission to be seen, not just when you’re strong or put together, but when you’re real.

This doesn’t mean every relationship becomes perfect. In fact, some may fall away. But the ones that remain and grow will do so on the foundation of mutual respect, shared values, and emotional safety.

Reintegration also invites you into stillness, not as avoidance, but as a form of arrival. After years of running, proving yourself, and surviving, you learn to sit with yourself in quiet and discover that peace doesn’t have to be earned. It can simply be allowed. In stillness, your nervous system begins to understand that it’s no longer under siege. You no longer have to chase healing. You just have to let it land. It’s in these quiet, ordinary moments—watching the light shift through a window, breathing deeply without urgency, doing nothing and feeling okay—that you realize: this is what coming home to yourself actually feels like.

You stop waiting for a crisis to make the rest legitimate. You begin letting moments of silence, beauty, or ease carry weight, not because they’re productive, but because you’re finally allowed to have peace.

This is where the deepest form of self-trust emerges. You’re no longer striving to become someone better. You’re simply being who you’ve worked so hard to reclaim and letting that be enough.

Practices for Step 5

1. Joy Permission & Stillness: Create a short list of things that bring you quiet joy—walks, music, books, textures, tastes. Then add one form of stillness that brings you peace: sitting outside, practicing breathwork, meditating, or journaling without an agenda. Schedule time for at least one of each every week. Not as a reward, but as a personal ritual for stillness.
   

2. Safe Visibility: Choose one safe person and practice letting them see you more fully. Share something real—something you would’ve previously hidden. Watch how it feels to stay present in the moment.
   

3. Relationship Audit: List the relationships in your life that energize you versus drain you.
   
   Ask:

   1. Where am I still shrinking?

   2. Where am I growing?
      
      Begin adjusting accordingly—not with anger, but with clarity.
      

4. Living Your Values:
   Review your core values from Step 3.
   
   Then ask: How can I express these values in my relationships? In my work? In the way I talk to myself and others?
   
   Make these values visible through small, consistent actions.

When can you expect a measurable difference?

You stop living two lives—the one inside you, and the one others see. You begin to experience a sense of congruence between who you are, how you feel, and how you show up. Your relationships begin to shift to reflect your wholeness. You stop mistaking exhaustion for virtue. And for the first time, self-love isn’t something you do in private—it’s something you live.

Becoming Whole Isn’t Linear

Healing doesn’t happen in a straight line. You might be in the rebuilding stage in your professional relationships, but still in recognition when it comes to your familial relationships. You might feel integrated in how you speak to yourself, but still struggle to reconnect with your body.

That’s not failure—that’s how wholeness works.

These five stages are a cycle. They are a way of orienting your inner life toward deeper truth and alignment. You’ll move through them again and again, each time with more clarity, compassion, and capacity.

Self-love isn’t a finish line you cross.

It’s a posture of curiosity, a willingness to return to yourself again and again with honesty. You will continuously outgrow versions of yourself. You will have to pause, reconnect, reclaim, rebuild, and reintegrate more times than you can count.

Becoming an eternal student of your own life.

Every trigger is a teacher. Every relationship is a mirror. Every emotion is a message. The work is to keep listening and asking questions. To keep choosing alignment over performance, peace over approval, and truth over comfort.

You don’t have to master this process overnight. You only have to keep returning to it, with less judgment and more patience than the time before.

Because you are not broken, you are actively creating yourself. And every time you choose to meet yourself with dignity, you are practicing a kind of love the world desperately needs more of.

Start where you are. Stay with yourself.

And remember that no matter what anyone has told you—especially the ones who tried to hurt you—you are not beyond repair.

You are becoming.

Loving Another Person

I spent a great deal of time running in circles romantically because I hadn't done the necessary healing work first.

After breaking up with Celine, I believed I was not worthy of love for a long time. I didn’t say it in those words, but if you read between the lines, you would see the wound under the mask of noble martyrdom.

I told myself, “I cannot protect a partner from my stepmother.”

But what I was really saying was, “I am powerless. I will fail the people I love. I am dangerous to be close to.”

Later, I told myself, “I cannot date until I reunite with my brother.”

Beneath that was another wound. “I must prove I am good enough. I don’t deserve joy until I fix the family. If my family is broken, how can I start a new family without it falling apart? I am not allowed to love or be loved until I earn redemption.”

At face value, these narratives sound responsible and even selfless. But they were fear in disguise—shame masquerading as integrity. And as long as I obeyed them, I kept myself outside the reach of love. Not because others didn’t try to love me, but because I wouldn’t receive it.

You can’t receive what you believe you don’t deserve, and you can’t hold what you’ve never felt safe having.

Before I met June, I thought to myself, “The only person who would truly understand me is someone who is also broken.”

At the time, I saw that belief as a form of compassion. But it wasn’t compassion—it was trauma bonding. I wasn’t looking for a partnership. I was looking for someone who mirrored my wounds so I wouldn’t have to face them alone. If they were in pain too, then maybe I wouldn’t feel so ashamed of mine.

At first, I thought I could fix her.

I thought if I loved her enough, supported her enough, stayed patient enough, maybe she’d feel safe enough to heal. Perhaps that would make it all worthwhile. But the truth is, when you try to fix someone, you’re just trying to outrun your own pain. You’re saying to yourself, “If I can rescue them, then maybe I wasn’t as powerless as I felt back then.”

It becomes less about them and more about making your old wounds mean something.

And underneath that, there's an even more subtle fantasy: “If I can fix them, then maybe I’ll finally know how to fix myself.”

But that’s not healing either. That’s procrastination disguised as purpose. That’s outsourcing your inner work to someone else’s recovery. It keeps you focused on their chaos so you don’t have to face your own.

Even if you magically transformed someone you loved from a broken individual into a thriving person, you will still realize at the end of the day that you are still stuck in the gutter while they are outgrowing you.

Trying to fix another person doesn’t make you a savior—it makes you unavailable to yourself. You abandon your own needs while over-functioning for someone else’s. And deep down, there’s often a quiet hope: If I can heal them, maybe I’ll finally feel healed too.

But that’s not love. That’s emotional reenactment.

Every rupture in my attempted relationships was playing out the same old script: “If I could fix it, if I could just be enough, maybe this time the story would end differently.”

But it never did. Because I wasn’t healing, I was reenacting trauma.

And that’s how I kept circling the same emotional orbit. I wasn’t choosing partners based on mutual growth or shared values. I was choosing from a place of familiarity. Pain recognizes pain. Chaos feels like home when you’ve only known tension.

Carl Jung once said, “What you most want to find will be found where you least want to look.”

I didn’t want to look at my own shame or at my fear of inadequacy. So I made myself useful instead. I tried to earn my worth by being needed.

And at the end of the day, the only person you can fix is yourself.

Imago Relationship Theory

I learned about Imago Relationship Theory from Bill Eddy during an interview for a podcast I was co-hosting. He mentions it around the 21:20 minute mark.

I had asked him why so many people, especially those with trauma histories, seem to allow repeated boundary violations in relationships. Why do they stay? Why do they return to partners who disrespect or control them?

He explained that when someone grows up in an abusive or emotionally unstable household, they unconsciously learn a “script” for how relationships work. You figure out what to say, what not to say, how to tiptoe around volatility, how to survive. That becomes your normal. And even if it’s painful, it’s familiar, and familiarity is powerful.

So later in life, when you meet someone—often someone with narcissistic traits—and something about them clicks, it’s not random. It’s not even about their charm. It’s that your nervous system recognizes the script. You’ve played this role before.

That’s when he mentioned Imago theory, developed by therapist Harville Hendrix and his wife, Helen LaKelly Hunt. The core idea is that we all carry an unconscious image of love that was shaped by our earliest caregivers. That image includes both the good and the bad. We don’t just seek people who make us feel loved, we seek people who feel familiar. And that often means people who recreate the very wounds we never healed.

As Hendrix and his wife, Helen LaKelly Hunt, describe in their book Getting the Love You Want, this unconscious template—the Imago—drives us toward partners who resemble our parents or early attachment figures. Not to suffer all over again, but in the hope that this time, the story will end differently.

That’s why, as Bill said, you might meet someone and think, “This feels right.” But what you’re really saying is, “This feels familiar.” And if you’re not aware of the pattern, you’ll find yourself defaulting to the same old roles without understanding why.

Doing the emotional work of self-love will help you eliminate most of these recurring patterns and replace them with healthier habits. With that said, I do think that there is some level of connection that needs to occur with other people to help you better understand your blind spots.

There is a concept known as the Johari Window, where self-awareness is broken into four quadrants:

1. Public Persona (Known to Self and Others):
   This is the part of you that you’re consciously aware of and that others also see—your values, habits, quirks, strengths, and even your struggles when you’re open about them. The more honest and authentic your relationships, the larger this window becomes.

2. Blind Spot (Unknown to Self, Known to Others):
   These are the parts of you that are visible to others but hidden from your own view. It could be a pattern of interrupting when nervous, a tone of defensiveness you don’t hear, or your tendency to dismiss praise. These blind spots often block intimacy, not because they’re bad, but because they go unaddressed.

3. Facade (Known to Self, Unknown to Others):
   This is the realm of secrets, private fears, traumas, and desires that you choose not to share. Sometimes these are withheld for safety or boundaries. But other times, they’re locked away behind a facade because of shame or fear of rejection. The healing journey often involves slowly and wisely shrinking this area.

4. Unknown Area (Unknown to Self and Others):
   This is the mysterious terrain of the unconscious—your untapped potential, suppressed memories, inherited beliefs, or future transformations. This quadrant shrinks through life experiences, introspection, therapy, and especially meaningful relationships.

The goal of personal growth is to expand your public persona so that it reflects your authentic self. The more you explore yourself and share vulnerably with safe people, the more you collapse the facade and blind spots into conscious awareness. And in doing so, your sense of self becomes clearer, more stable, and more integrated. Additionally, the parts that are entirely unknown to you and others will slowly rise to the surface until they become known.

Understanding Imago Theory and the Johari Window gives us the language to explain why we’re drawn to certain people and how our wounds shape our relational habits. But insight alone doesn’t change behavior; practice does.

Whether you’re an alienated parent learning to trust again, an alienated child rebuilding your internal compass, or someone navigating romantic partnership after trauma, the next step is conscious relationship.

This is where self-love meets the real world. It’s the process of continuously choosing to relate with presence, honesty, and care, even when your reflexes scream otherwise. And it’s possible for all of us, no matter where we started or what traumas happened to us.

Conscious Love

Conscious love is not about chemistry, compatibility, or finding someone who never triggers you. It’s about choosing to show up with awareness and intention, especially when you’re triggered. It asks more of you than romance ever will, but it gives more back than fantasy ever could.

Most people pursue relationships based on instinct or longing. We look for someone who makes us feel alive, seen, safe, or validated. But without consciousness, even the most exciting connection will eventually run aground on old patterns of defensiveness, withdrawal, control, and fear of abandonment.

Conscious love is what happens when two people decide not to run.

They agree to stay curious when conflict arises. They agree to slow down rather than escalate. They agree to look inward instead of blaming outward.

This is just as true for a romantic partner as it is for a parent reconnecting with their child. The old roles don’t need to be performed anymore. You don’t have to prove you’re good or chase approval. You don’t have to be fixed or fix others. Instead, you learn how to be real with each other—how to stay in connection without sacrificing who you are.

For many alienated parents, they lose years with their children. And in their minds, they still see their child frozen in time at the point where the alienation started. But the child is growing. Time is passing, and each day, they are changing. You have to accept that your child is a new person for you to discover and rebuild the relationship with the child in front of you, not the child you lost.

Conflict as an Opportunity

In unconscious relationships, conflict is treated as a problem to avoid, suppress, or win. But in conscious love, conflict is the beginning of growth.

Imago theory reframes conflict as a signal that something deeper is being asked for. When you find yourself triggered by your partner, child, or parent, it’s rarely about the surface issue. It’s not just about the dishes, the silence, the tone, or the timing. It’s about what that moment activates, which is usually an unmet need from earlier in life.

I mentioned before that one of Imago’s key insights is that we are drawn to people who resemble the very figures who wounded us, because unconsciously, we want to finish the story. But the only way to break the loop is by facing what we’ve been avoiding.

This is where alienated parents and children face a similar task. The parent wants to be heard and forgiven. The child wants to be seen and protected. Both are carrying years of unsaid pain. Both feel unsafe. And both may lash out or withdraw when it feels like too much. These points of conflict are opportunities to rediscover each other on a deeper level.

In romantic relationships, it’s the same dynamic. Your partner might say, “You never listen,” when what they really mean is, “I’m scared my voice doesn’t matter.” You might shut down during an argument, not because you don’t care, but because you’re terrified of being misunderstood or punished, just like you were as a child.

These patterns won’t shift through logic alone. They shift when both people stop reacting and start relating to each other. It is when both sides learn to listen, not just hear.

Conflict is resolved through curiosity. Ask questions and explore the root of the pain. That way, you can practice a new way of speaking that prioritizes connection over control.

The Imago Dialogue

At the heart of Imago Relationship Therapy is a deceptively simple structure called the Imago Dialogue.

The dialogue consists of three steps: Mirroring, Validating, and Empathizing.

These steps are designed to slow down reactive patterns and create space for real connection, whether you're speaking with a romantic partner, an alienated child, or even revisiting memories internally as part of your healing process.

1. Mirroring – “Let me make sure I heard you.”

This is where you repeat back what the other person said, word-for-word or in paraphrased form, without interpretation. It’s not agreement—it’s presence. It shows the other person that their reality is safe to express and that you’re not going to hijack it.

“What I hear you saying is…”

“Did I get that right?”

“Is there more about that?”

Mirroring reduces the urge to correct, defend, or “fix.” It’s about slowing down and listening until the other person feels truly heard.

2. Validation – “That makes sense.”

Once the person has shared and you’ve accurately mirrored their experience, the next step is to validate it. This doesn’t mean you agree with their perception. It means you can understand how they got there.

“That makes sense to me because…”

“Given your experiences, I can see how you’d feel that way.”

Validation is what allows someone to lower their guard. It’s the antidote to gaslighting, defensiveness, and invalidation. It’s a way of saying, “You’re not crazy. Your feelings matter.”

3. Empathy – “I imagine you might be feeling…”

Finally, you name the emotion, or series of emotions, that you imagine the other person might be experiencing. This step moves the conversation from the head to the heart.

“I imagine you might be feeling scared… or hurt… maybe even angry.”

“Do those feelings feel right to you?”

Empathy creates warmth. It’s what makes the person feel not just understood, but held. And in relationships that have carried trauma, this moment of emotional attunement can be incredibly reparative.

You don’t need to follow the Imago Dialogue script robotically. What matters is the energy behind it, namely curiosity, non-defensiveness, and a commitment to connection over control. When practiced consistently, it can begin to rewire both people’s nervous systems, teaching them that love doesn’t have to mean danger, silence, or erasure.

Love as a Mirror and a Catalyst for Growth

Whether you're an alienated parent trying to reconnect with a child or a formerly alienated child learning to trust love again, the work is never just about the other person. It’s about what the relationship calls forth in you—your wounds, your patterns, your capacity, your growth edge.

Every meaningful relationship is both a mirror and a catalyst for growth. It reflects the parts of you that you’ve yet to embrace, and it challenges you to stretch into new ways of being. The more self-love you cultivate, the more you can hold space for another person’s full humanity without collapsing or controlling.

It’s also important to remember that love is not a destination you arrive at, it’s a practice you return to again and again.

In sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.

Sometimes, you’ll feel like a novice. Other times, you’ll feel grounded and wise. And often, you’ll be both at once. You’ll be strong in one area of your life and fragile in another. You’ll have clarity in your friendships but may struggle with setting and maintaining romantic boundaries. That’s not failure—that’s the truth of being human.

You are not here to become perfect. You are here to become whole.

The self-love framework you’ve explored—the five phases of recognition, reconnection, redefinition, reinforcement, and reintegration—gives you the foundation. Imago gives you the relational tools. Together, they create a path forward where love is no longer survival, performance, or self-abandonment. It becomes something richer: a space where healing is mutual, growth is welcome, and connection is sacred.

You are an eternal student of yourself. And every act of love you give—whether to yourself, a partner, a child, or a friend—becomes a part of your becoming.

This is how we heal and love.

Concluding Thoughts

When I met my wife, I had already taken many of the self-love steps that I mentioned above. And even then, I learned more about myself through the conflicts we had. My wife taught me so much that I feel nothing short of gratitude and awe for her.

She has pushed me to challenge my assumptions, identify my blind spots, and become a better person. What we’ve built didn’t happen by accident—it happened because we both chose to keep showing up.

Even in a loving relationship, the work doesn’t end. Love reveals new places inside of you that are still learning how to be held. It asks you to become more, not less. It asks you to soften where you once braced, and to open where you once closed.

Love is a gift, and I have been blessed to share it with her.

And if you're still looking for that kind of love, start with yourself. Because when you love from wholeness instead of hunger, you no longer settle for crumbs. You know what you’re worth. You know how to offer love without losing yourself in the process. You know how to receive it without suspicion or shame.

When you are filled with love for yourself (not narcissism but deep respect), you have the ability to see people as they are and offer them the love they are desperately seeking.

For alienated children, this is the path to breaking the cycle of trauma. And for alienated parents, this is how you light the way for your alienated child.

Love. And love deeply.

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

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My father once said poignantly, “You know Andrew… I remember when baseball was America’s favorite pastime. Now, it’s politics.”

Regardless of your political affiliations, religious views (or lack thereof), and other closely held opinions, I think we can all agree that most communication on divisive topics leads to a “winning at all costs” approach often fueled with ad hominem attacks, cognitive dissonance, and highly aggressive and hyperbolic stances.

It seems that civil discussion and friendly intellectual debates are impossible. Instead of challenging ideas, most people flock to groups that share their ideals. But what is also fascinating is that many of these social groups seem to have a degree of tolerance regarding those shared views. Go too far beyond tolerated variance, and you are shunned, ostracized, and banished from returning.

Dissenting beliefs make you a heretic and thereby dangerous to the community.

This behavior is not locked to any political party, country, or time period. Mob mentality has tragically ended the lives of countless historical icons and squashed the progression of real progress in social change.

Here are a few examples from across history:

• Socrates (399 BCE)
  One of the earliest champions of ethical dialogue, Socrates taught young Athenians to question assumptions, examine their lives, and seek truth beyond tradition. For this, the city condemned him to death by drinking hemlock.

• Hypatia of Alexandria (415 CE)
  A philosopher, astronomer, and teacher in a time when women were rarely permitted to hold public authority, Hypatia represented reason and scholarship. As tensions rose between Christian and pagan factions, she became a scapegoat for deeper political unrest. A mob pulled her from her chariot, stripped her, and killed her.

• Giordano Bruno (1600)
  Bruno envisioned an infinite cosmos filled with stars and worlds, a universe where God’s creation extended far beyond human imagination. But his ideas clashed with the rigid doctrines of the Church. Rather than entertain his vision, they burned him alive.

• Dr. Ignaz Semmelweis (1865)
  Before germ theory, Semmelweis discovered a simple truth—doctors washing their hands before delivery operations could save mothers’ lives during childbirth. His colleagues ridiculed him because the implication was that doctors were inadvertently killing their patients by not washing their hands (which they were). He was labeled unstable, institutionalized, and beaten by guards. In a tragic twist of fate, he died of sepsis, which was the same infection he tried to prevent.

• Alan Turing (1954)
  Turing broke the Nazi Enigma codes, shortened WWII, and laid the groundwork for modern computing. His brilliance saved millions of lives, yet he was prosecuted for being gay, chemically castrated, and died in isolation via cyanide.

• Emmett Till (1955)
  At just 14 years old, Emmett Till became a symbol of everything wrong with racial injustice. Accused of offending a white woman, he was lynched by a mob in Mississippi.

This is by no means an extensive list.

And the point of sharing this is that cognitive dissonance, to the point of anger, aggression, and sometimes violence, has been a part of humanity for as long as we have existed. In all of these instances, civil discussion and intellectual debate was not possible.

Countless great thinkers have shared this observation:

Elliot Aronson wrote in his book The Social Animal,

“Sometimes our motivation to be right and our motivation to believe we are right work in the same direction: We seek information (say, about the risks of smoking) and pay attention. But the theory of cognitive dissonance predicts that more often we seek information and then ignore it if we don’t like what we learn (and keep smoking). Understanding dissonance explains why so much of human thinking is not rational, but rationalizing.”

Leo Tolstoy said in The Kingdom of God is Within You,

“The most difficult subjects can be explained to the most slow-witted man if he has not formed any idea of them already; but the simplest thing cannot be made clear to the most intelligent man if he is firmly persuaded that he knows already, without a shadow of doubt, what is laid before him.”

And Eric Hoffer wrote about cognitive dissonance as part of the rise of the Nazi movement in The True Believer,

“It is the true believer’s ability to ‘shut his eyes and stop his ears’ to facts that do not deserve to be either seen or heard, which is the source of his unequaled fortitude and consistency.”

If this is the default way opposing ideas communicate, then it should come as no surprise that this type of thinking is also present in the alienation movement.

It manifests in two big ways: projected anger at the gender of your ex-spouse, and hypersensitivity to alienation deniers. (Note: This is an observation of the alienation movement and not an accusation directed at you, dear reader.)

What ensues is a consequence of unmet needs and personal trauma. But before I dig into the nuances of both groups, I want to start by addressing the big picture.

And there is no better example to articulate the gravity of the problem than Fight Club.

Hurt People Hurt People

Fight Club started as a novel by Chuck Palahniuk and later became a movie directed by David Fincher. At its core, it’s about a nameless man stuck in a life that feels fake. He works a meaningless job, buys things he doesn’t care about, and suffers from insomnia. Then he meets Tyler Durden, the charismatic, unhinged figure who offers a different way to live.

At first, Tyler’s mannerisms and philosophy seem deeply seductive. He speaks to the pain of those around him and acts as a voice for those who have been too shy to say what they truly feel. If you listen to the video above, you will get a taste of how Tyler (played by Brad Pitt) grabs the attention of the men who idolize him.

The Narrator and Tyler start an underground club called Fight Club, where men gather around and fight with no rules or consequences. The act of fighting provides some cathartic release of all the pent-up anger and tension carried inside.

When punching each other senselessly stops providing the same release that it once did, Fight Club morphs into Project Mayhem.

Now, it’s no longer about individual catharsis. It’s about collective action, blind loyalty, and destruction disguised as purpose. Members stop using names. They follow orders without question. Tyler’s ideas become doctrine. Graffiti turns to vandalism, which escalates to terrorism. Each violent act is framed as striking back at a corrupt, soul-crushing society.

Fight Club is obviously dramatized to the point of making a good story, but let’s explore how these same dynamics manifest in the alienation movement.

Red Pills, Castration, and the Madonna/Whore Complex

When parents discover they are being alienated from their kids, one of the first things they do is look for support online. Often, friends and family are too shy to get involved, and only your closest loved ones will actually let you cry on their shoulder. Even then, they don’t fully understand what is happening and chalk it up to a bad breakup.

These parents are drowning in the moment, trying to stay afloat as legal troubles, CPS, financial issues, and alienation come at them like 100-foot waves. Looking online, they find videos and articles from various experts and researchers. On social media, they find support groups. However, the online support groups are often not providing the insight they hoped to find.

Many support groups cycle through negative stories after negative stories. If you are frequently online doomscrolling through posts by distraught parents, your hope for your own reunification evaporates instantly.

It is at this moment that feelings of anger, powerlessness, grief, self-doubt, depression, anxiety, panic, stress, and disgust stew inside of you, poisoning your sense of self. Active emotions like anger and anxiety will step forward, helping you hide your feelings of fear and grief.

The fear of inadequacy and powerlessness makes the person look for someone to blame. However, blaming the ex-spouse is not enough. It feels like there is a deeper, almost conspiratorial reason why they are being alienated.

And that is where some parents get caught up in blaming the opposite gender.

Both sides' arguments are hyperbolic and prejudicial. I’ll share some examples below. Chances are, you have heard all of them somewhere.

Extreme women’s groups will say, Men are:

• Lazy and irresponsible

• Chauvinist pigs that should be castrated

• Rapists/Only interested in sex/Willing to sleep with anyone behind your back

• Inherently violent and predatory/Narcissistic/Sociopathic

• Controlling, manipulative, and emotionally cold

Extreme men’s groups will say, Women are:

• Sluts/Whores/Promiscuous (but will not sleep with you)

• Not traditional like the past (though the past is described as a vague historical point in time)

• Emotionally manipulative/Narcissistic

• Bringing nothing to the table/draining your resources/gold diggers

• Willing to leave you for a stronger and/or wealthier man, or willing to put you in a position to raise another man’s child

Drawing from the example of Fight Club, these groups create a quick path for hurt, alienated parents to join a “cause” that provides them a scapegoat. The first stage of Fight Club is to fight amongst each other as a way to reclaim your sense of power and identity.

Join an extreme feminist group or a Red Pill or MGTOW (Men Going Their Own Way) group, and you will see a constant cycle of defamatory content against the opposite gender. Personal stories are shared (and likely embellished) to validate their polarizing beliefs. Then everyone reads that story and comments furiously on how your pain is justified and that the state of the world is at fault. Everyone’s story is accepted as truth, and no one takes any measure of accountability.

Civil discussion is not possible with either group. They have commoditized the opposite gender, acting as though their lived experiences are enough to claim superiority over them.

These groups will campaign against each other, achieving little to no progress in the grand scheme of things. Fortunately, these groups are usually too busy fighting amongst themselves and occasionally getting caught in scandals to advance their own agendas.

With that said, the consequences of getting wrapped up in these groups are dramatic.

Firstly, it brings your healing journey to a halt. Scapegoating an entire gender allows them to absolve themselves of all responsibility for their own erroneous behavior. This is just another mental prison that keeps you from achieving the things that you want most.

Second, everything posted on the internet is visible and cannot be removed. Sure, you can delete messages and posts, but all it takes is one person to screenshot them, and there is permanent evidence against you. Making comments about how someone deserves to be brutally murdered or tortured is not a good joke, nor is it a funny one. There is no reasonable justification for that language. It doesn’t reflect well on your character and makes you look untrustworthy to your alienated child. As the saying goes, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”

And lastly, you trade reunification for short-term emotional gratification. If your alienated child sees you speaking vehemently about gender politics (especially if those comments are about their alienating parent), they will hold that against you. If your alienated child has been aggressive or hurtful to you, there will be fear that you will harbor these kinds of deep-rooted, hate-filled beliefs about them. If their gender matches the hateful comments you are making, they will internalize those beliefs about themselves.

These toxic gender echo chambers don’t just stay in their corners. You see their influence all over social media, especially how individuals generalize their pain.

A child who grew up with a controlling or abusive mother might frequently post memes or quips deriding women. And when you call it out, their defense is always the same.

“Well, my mom was like that.”

Here is another example.

A mother posts a photo about the importance of a child having a loving mother to share how she wants to be there to help raise her kids into kind, emotionally intelligent adults. This is typically done because the mother was feeling raw and in pain in the moment and wanted to communicate that to the broader community. But instead of support, she’s bombarded with men commenting, “What about fathers? We matter too!”—even though her post never dismissed or even mentioned fathers at all.

In both cases, what you’re seeing isn’t reasoned discourse. It’s emotional reactivity. One person’s pain reminds another person of their pain, and suddenly both sides are in an emotional state, looking for connection, but instead of connecting with each other, they are competing to see who has had it worse.

Posting this kind of content on social media is also a way for these people to find a tribe. They want their suffering to mean something, their wounds to be seen, and their experiences to be validated.

In the end, the people who post inflammatory content are quickly initiated into an early version of Fight Club that mirrors their beliefs.

Social Dog Piling the Alienation Deniers

It usually starts with a screenshot.

A parent in an alienation support group shares a post from a high-profile influencer with a massive following, claiming that parental alienation isn’t real. Maybe the influencer frames it as “junk science,” or suggests it’s just a tactic abusers use to discredit protective parents.

Outraged, the parent writes a caption like, “This is dangerous misinformation. Let’s flood the comments and tell them the truth.”

The group responds.

Dozens, sometimes hundreds, of alienated parents swarm the influencer’s page. A small percentage of the comments are factual, personal, and emotional, sharing their lived experiences and calling for awareness.

However, the overwhelming majority will step into that Fight Club mentality, posting rage-filled comments intended to provoke the influencer into feeling afraid and anxious so that they will stop espousing these views to their followers. Death threats, swatting, language inciting violence, and using derogatory catch phrases; these are different forms of cancel culture. But unlike celebrities caught in sex scandals, most of these alienation deniers dig in their heels and double down when they are attacked.

They don’t want to have a conversation because they are convinced they are right. Every threat and insult they receive for those views solidifies their stance. They are not interested in intellectual discussion. If they were, they would be actively researching and interviewing experts. Instead, alienation deniers are usually playing a game of power, where they aggressively push their ideas and philosophy, and you, the receiver, are expected to submit and accept it without question. For them, being wrong means they lose their status and power.

There is a famous saying that once you reach a certain level of success, you will start having haters. The problem with this conventional wisdom is that it doesn’t encourage reflection, as the haters are often dismissed as being jealous or emotionally unstable. Their pain is invalidated, and their message is reduced to noise. And when it comes to alienated parents, that dismissal is especially dangerous because it reinforces the very invisibility they’re trying to escape.

But here’s the trap. By choosing outrage over strategy, the alienation movement gives the deniers exactly what they expect—emotional volatility. The alienation denier doesn’t walk away thinking, “Maybe I misunderstood parental alienation.” They walk away thinking, “See? These people are unhinged. This just proves my point.”

This is the exact pattern Fight Club warned about. It is the cycle where hurt people, desperate to be seen, escalate into chaos. Not because they’re inherently destructive, but because no one gave them a roadmap for what to do with that pain.

And once you enter that mode, your message becomes a weapon. You stop reaching your kids, the courts, or the culture. All it does is push the very people you want to influence further away and attract other angry people.

Now I want to make something clear.

Denial of alienation hurts.

It feels like your reality is being erased. And in many cases, it is.

But responding with a mob only amplifies the existing criticism that alienated parents are emotionally unstable or vindictive. No matter how justified they feel, the threats and insults don’t correct the narrative. They confirm the worst assumptions.

Most alienation deniers believe the concept is a smokescreen used to make a protective parent look abusive and that the child is estranged because of the rejected parent’s own harmful behavior.

That belief isn’t without context; there are legitimate cases of estrangement where a parent was so toxic that they refuse to accept any responsibility, leaving the child with no other option but to cut contact.

There have also been instances where abusive parents falsely claimed alienation to manipulate the system. And here’s the irony. If someone successfully weaponizes the idea of alienation to turn judges, lawyers, and social workers against a protective parent, that act itself is alienation. If you can convince a bunch of adults to turn their backs on a person, you absolutely can do the same to a child who does not have the cognitive ability to discern protection from psychological abuse. The manipulation they claim disproves alienation proves exactly how it works.

The bottom line is, don’t get baited into proving their point. You cannot convince them that they are wrong because they refuse to believe there is room for discussion. When it comes to power games, most of the time, you win by not playing.

Healed People Heal People

One of my favorite movies is Everything Everywhere All at Once.

If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it.

Beneath the absurdist humor, multiverse chaos, and sci-fi spectacle, it’s really a story about something deeply human—a mother trying to save her daughter from suicide.

Evelyn (played by Michelle Yeoh) is a fighter. She doesn’t let people walk over her. She hustles, argues, micromanages, and always tries to prove she’s good enough. To the IRS. To her father. Even to herself.

She sees her husband, Waymond, as too soft, sensitive, silly, and weak to handle the pressure of life.

But time and time again, it’s Waymond who de-escalates tension, disarms conflict, and keeps their fractured family from falling apart—not through domination, but through empathy. While Evelyn tries to fight her way through every problem, Waymond solves them by being kind. And in the end, it’s not martial arts or a mastery of all skills that saves their daughter Joy—it’s recognition, forgiveness, and love.

Waymond isn’t weak by being optimistic and kind despite all the uncertainty thrown at him. He’s strong in a way Evelyn had to learn to see. Here is one of his best quotes towards the end of the movie:

“You think I’m weak don’t you? When we first fell in love all of those years ago, your father would say I was too sweet for my own good. Maybe he was right. You tell me that it's a cruel world and we're all just running around in circles. I know that. I've been on this earth just as many days as you.

When I choose to see the good side of things, I'm not being naive. It is strategic and necessary. It's how I've learned to survive through everything. I know you go through life with your fists held tight. You see yourself as a fighter. Well, I see myself as one too. This is how I fight.”

Not all alienation support groups devolve into Fight Club. However, many people treat alienation as an unending battle where they join these groups to “rally the troops.”

It is no surprise, because anger is highly profitable. You can move a lot of people toward destructive acts that serve an ulterior motive and cash in on a lot of sales. I work in marketing, so I see these tactics on a daily basis.

Most of these online debates will have no consequence on the grand scheme of things. Winning a Facebook argument doesn’t get you closer to reuniting with your child. It just wastes your time and mental energy. It is a distraction that poisons your mind and creates the illusion of enemies standing between you and your child. It might feel good to be a “part of the cause,” but you end up sacrificing your own efforts to reunite for the cause.

Most parents are not equipped to become influencers. They haven’t done the healing yet. And the rules of the social media game are different when you are actively managing a following with your own content. The average parent isn’t interested in tracking social media metrics, curating educational materials, and promoting products (yes, you have to monetize; otherwise, you will burn out). They are just trying to find a way to reconnect with their kid.

Now, there are circumstantial elements that may stand in the way of reunification (finances, your ex, CPS, family court, legalities, etc.) However, the only thing that matters in your journey to reuniting with your child is that you actively build a bridge for them to cross when they are ready to reconnect. You can’t do that effectively if you are swept up in online fights.

Time goes by regardless of how you spend your time during alienation. If you choose to spend that time online fighting, you will be too busy to notice the opportunities your child wants to connect because you will still be in a fighting mindset. But if you do the work to heal yourself, you will discover the greatest gifts you can give your alienated child.

Your peace and your love.

The Antidote to Fight Club is Connection, Kindness, Empathy, and Love.

Now I have been accused of living life with rose-tinted glasses. And I get it.

When everything feels like a fight, it is hard to believe it is possible to win without fighting. After all, there is CPS, family court, alienation deniers, the alienator, and the weight of societal expectations weighing on you all at once.

How can you continuously be kind in a world that is deeply unkind?

When you’ve tried everything—reasoning with your ex, begging the court, explaining yourself to CPS, fighting false allegations, shouting into the void of social media—and nothing changes, a terrifying thought creeps in…maybe the only way to be heard is to burn everything down.

Violence starts to feel like a form of agency. Anger feels like the only emotion powerful enough to push back against the silence. And when the system ignores you, when the people who should care don’t listen, when your child slips further away… It’s easy to believe that rage is your only remaining weapon.

But that’s the lie pain tells you.

Being an existential optimist might seem foolish to some. But to me, it’s not about ignoring reality—it’s about refusing to let it harden me.

Kindness isn’t passivity. It’s resistance. It’s choosing not to replicate the pain that broke you. It’s showing up with presence, even when everything inside you wants to disappear. It’s staying open when every survival instinct tells you to shut down. Kindness despite pain is the ability to recognize that acting from a place of hurt continues the cycle of passing pain onto others. You have to actively choose not to let the pain turn you into the person who hurt you.

Alienation hurts because it severs the connection with those you love. So the only way through is to rebuild the connection—even if it takes years, even if it’s just in the way you carry yourself, even if the person you’re trying to reach isn’t ready yet.

You don’t fight fire with fire. That only turns everything around you into charcoal. Fight fire with water. Extinguish hatred completely with love and curiosity.

You can’t control the court system. You can’t control your ex. You can’t control your child’s current perception of you. But you can control the story you live. You can choose grace and growth, and to be someone your child will one day feel safe coming back to.

Most parents I speak to do not want to spend the rest of their lives in the alienation community. They don’t want to be influencers or content creators. Instead, they would rather explore all the beautiful things life offers with their kids. And that is normal.

Doing the emotional work of healing trauma and developing the skills to strengthen your resolve and mentalize (putting yourself in someone’s shoes) will help you feel a sense of inner stillness, even though the world is chaotic. In this state, people who try to attack or provoke you do not affect your sense of identity or emotional state.

Like water off a duck.

And when your child returns to you, they need you to be their anchor so they can follow your footsteps as they navigate their healing journey.

If I died tomorrow, I wouldn’t want to be seen as a fighter in the alienation movement. Instead, I would rather be remembered as an old friend—someone who came by for coffee or tea and sat down next to you when you needed it the most, lent my shoulder to cry on, gave you a hug if you felt alone, or said the right thing at the right time so you had the strength to keep going.

I am not a crusader and don’t want to be a martyr. (Don’t worry, I am in perfect health and have no intention of dying.)

I don’t see alienation as a battle like most people do. I see it as an open wound that needs healing. A person with unhealed trauma and weak social skills, unintentionally behaves in ways that harm others, and they justify it as an act of self-preservation so that they don’t get crushed by the emotional guilt of their actions.

There was a time when I was furious with my stepmother for what she did to me. As I worked through my own pain, I wondered what kinds of fears and trauma led her to become the person she is today. Now, I don’t even think about it anymore. She has a journey she must undergo, and it is not my place to decide what path she takes in life.

When I was younger, I was sucked into the Red Pill groups. I saw countless men puffing their chests, acting as though they somehow mapped out the entirety of women’s psychology. None of them were happy. None of them felt safe enough to give or receive love. And they treated women the same way that they treated everything in life—as a fight.

At first, it felt liberating, but after a while, I couldn’t stomach it. I wanted love, to get married, and to have a family. I have always wanted to be a father, and I don’t want a life where I am constantly fighting.

Once I pursued a path of love, peace, and kindness, I was able to make that dream come true.

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

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Liked this Article? Here are a Few Past Articles You May Like…

• Seeing through the Eyes of the Alienated Child (Understanding the psychological states of an alienated child.)

• Escaping the Prison of the Mind (A great follow-up on the emotional state of an alienated child after alienation).

• How to Talk With Your Alienated Child When They Don't Want to Talk to You (Good for navigating the survival state with your alienated child).

• Finding Meaning in Alienation When All Hope is Lost (A great first step in finding your path to healing).

It is Not About the Nail

A few years ago, I saw a short video skit called “It’s not about the nail.”

In about 90 seconds, the video showcases one of the most common communication challenges in a relationship. In this skit, a couple is trying to talk about a problem that the woman is having. Her partner listens to her talk about her pain and headaches until suddenly, the camera shows the source of her pain—a giant nail jutting out of her head.

The man, trying to be a logical problem solver, goes straight to the solution and says that the pain would leave if she took the nail out of her head. The woman responds angrily, telling her partner that he is not listening to her and that it is not about the nail in her head.

You can view the skit below.

Most people miss the message of the video.

They assume that the video is a play on stereotypical gender dynamics, as though it were simply about how men are logical and women want to talk about their feelings. I first saw this video in my early twenties and shared the same perception. And that perception was utterly wrong.

The point of the video is not about gender dynamics or feelings vs logic.

The video highlights the couple's communication gap. Both people talk about two entirely different things without listening to each other. It is too easy to see how active listening would help the woman with a nail in her head. However, the true value of the video lies in the things that were not said.

Had the man taken the time to listen and validate her emotions and pain, he would have had a better chance of helping her realize the truth than directly attacking the problem.

And underneath the story is a truism about human communication and neuroscience that has been true for as long as we have been able to communicate. The human brain is deeply complex, but you don’t need to be a neuroscientist to understand the basics.

When you are with your alienated child, you will likely be in a similar situation as the couple in this video—the difference is that you are just replacing the metaphor of the “nail” with alienation.

Your child won’t listen to logical explanations about Munchausen by proxy, parentification, enmeshment, emotional incest, or other forms of psychological abuse. And it is not a function of their intelligence. Your child won’t see the truth because they are in a state of pain where they cannot use their executive functions (logic, problem solving, deep observation, etc). Additionally, if your child is still under the age of 25, their brains are still actively developing.

The brain has three basic states: survival, emotional, and executive. The more stress the brain is under, the more likely it is to be in an emotional or survival state. De-escalating conflict with your alienated child is as simple as learning to identify what state the child’s brain is in at that moment and guiding them back to an executive state.

The following model I will share below is the Brain State Model from Conscious Discipline. You can learn more about them through their website or purchase their book, “Conscious Discipline: Building Resilient Classrooms.”

Note: This book is written for teachers and early childhood educators, but I still found value in it as a parent. You don't need to get the book if you don’t want to; I will explain the big idea below.

And the best part…you don’t need to be a neuroscientist to understand it.

Survival State

Also known as the “lizard brain,” the brain stem controls one of the most important brain states—the survival state.

The survival state kicks you into action when you fear for your well-being. It is that feeling when the hairs rise on the back of your neck, your mind goes into high alert, and you can move very quickly should the need arise.

At the core of survival is the avoidance of death. We want to ensure that we live long and fruitful lives while avoiding the great unknown. Here is a list of things that trigger our innate fear of death:

• Physical harm

• Ostracism or separation from other people

• Decline in health

• Fear of the unknown

• Loss of control or autonomy

It should come as no surprise that alienation can encompass all five of these factors, affecting both the alienated child and the parent. When one or more of these fears are triggered, your mind drops all executive function and focuses solely on self-preservation.

Think back to a time when you were caught in the maelstrom of alienation—an argument escalating into violence, loved ones who once trusted you suddenly call you a horrible person, or staring at an overdrafted bank account while knowing you have a month’s worth of bills on their way.

In those moments, your mind is solely focused on what is happening in the moment. You won’t care about whether you mowed the lawn yet or if the fridge has enough groceries. It is hard to care about starving children in Africa when it feels like your world is burning down. And that is not your fault.

In survival mode, cortisol (the stress hormone) is released, putting you on high alert. In extreme situations, your body produces adrenaline, propelling you into action.

So, how does this relate to alienation?

An alienated child is often subject to a myriad of psychological, emotional, and physical abuse techniques meant to kill their sense of personal autonomy and train them to become an enabler of the alienator.

When an alienated child’s nervous system is locked in the survival state, the amygdala is firing like a car alarm while the pre‑frontal cortex (their “executive office”) has gone dark. In that state, they make a brutally pragmatic calculation: Where is it safest to discharge or suppress this panic so I don’t get hurt, and what do I do to ensure my safety?

Because the alienating parent controls the child’s access to love, shelter, and social belonging, open defiance (fight) or escape (flight) toward that parent would invite immediate retaliation in the form of a loss of privileges, ridicule/harassment, threats, or further emotional manipulation.

To stay physically and emotionally safe, the child’s brain defaults to freeze (“If I stay small and invisible, maybe I won’t be attacked”) or fawn (“If I mirror the alienator’s beliefs and please them, maybe I’ll stay safe and earn a scrap of approval”).

Conversely, the targeted parent feels safer; there is less risk of catastrophic punishment. That safety paradoxically gives the stress energy somewhere to go. Hence, the child’s limbic system redirects the repressed fight-or-flight impulse toward the targeted parent, manifesting as angry outbursts, verbal attacks, running to another room, slamming doors, abruptly ending visits, ghosting phone calls, or exhibiting avoidant behavior.

In the child’s trauma‑skewed logic, “It’s safer to explode or be avoidant here, because this parent’s love won’t be withdrawn and the consequences won’t feel life‑threatening.”

Thus, the same survival circuitry that once protected the child from genuine danger is hijacked by the dynamics of alienation, producing seemingly irrational but perfectly adaptive behavior given the child’s perceived landscape of risks and rewards.

To address the survival state, you must recognize that the child is seeking to answer the question, “Am I safe?”

Let’s explore the four survival reactions in greater detail and how you can provide them a sense of personal safety.

Fight

When an alienated child lashes out, the survival brain is screaming, “I feel unsafe, so I must scare the threat away.” The fury you see is a flare sent up by hidden fear. Like a charging elephant, the child tries to overwhelm the perceived danger with sheer volume and force.

You cannot fight fire with fire in this case.

Anger needs fuel. If you meet it with more anger, you are pouring gasoline on the fire and handing the reins of the moment to the child’s panic‑driven brain. Chaos follows, and the situation escalates. In extreme scenarios, violence may occur, and sometimes the police are involved.

Instead, fight fire with water. Maintain a still posture, slow your breathing, use a level tone, and keep your eyes steady. Your nervous system broadcasts safety, and the child will recognize that you are in control. There is a powerful video below of a man standing calmly as an elephant charges at him. Notice how he does not yell or curse, nor does he run. The elephant notices that the man is not scared of him and realizes that picking a fight is not a good idea, even though the elephant is much larger than the man.

Remaining calm, especially in the face of adversity, also demonstrates real power. Power is not something you demand; it is a state you embody. By standing grounded while the storm rages, you keep authority vested in you, the adult, where it belongs. Responding with anger signals that the child is in control of the situation, undermining your role and escalating the chaos you hoped to prevent.

The best way to win a fight is not to join it.

When your child makes angry demands or tries to provoke you, stay calm and composed. Remember: anger feeds on reaction. By not engaging in the emotional tug-of-war, you maintain control and teach them that respect, not volatility, is the path to connection.

You might say:

“[Child’s name], I don’t respond to disrespectful language. If you’d like to talk with me calmly, I’m here and willing to listen. However, I will not continue this conversation until we are both speaking respectfully. I also hope you won’t let anyone speak to you that way either. You deserve kindness, and so do I.”

Notice how the language you use is only about what you will do.

I don’t respond to disrespectful language.

I will not continue this conversation until we are both speaking respectfully.

This communicates your boundaries and that you have the self-respect to uphold them. You are not making demands because the child will undermine you by going against them anyway. Instead, you stand your ground with poise and calm. And you communicate what YOU will do.

Flight

In the survival state, flight is the brain’s attempt to escape a perceived threat. For an alienated child, this often shows up as avoidance—ignoring texts or calls, refusing visits, staying silent, or giving short, cold answers. While it may appear like indifference or even cruelty, this behavior is actually rooted in fear.

The alienating parent often interrogates the child after any interaction with the targeted parent. “What did you talk about? What did they say about me? Did they try to manipulate you?” The child quickly learns that the less they do, the less they have to report and the less punishment, guilt, or psychological warfare they must endure. Avoidance becomes a survival strategy: If I don’t engage, I stay out of trouble.

But it’s not just external pressure from the alienator. Internally, the child may be grappling with guilt or shame. Ignoring the targeted parent’s messages can feel easier than facing the pain of what they’ve done or said under the alienator’s influence. To acknowledge the relationship would mean confronting their own hurtful actions—something their nervous system is not yet ready to do. So they run. Not because they don’t care, but because it feels safer not to feel at all.

Flight, like all trauma responses, is not a rejection of love. It is a desperate attempt to survive a world where love has been weaponized.

One of the most common mistakes alienated parents make is trying to do too much, too fast, especially when the child is in flight mode. The instinct is understandable. You might want to clear the air, discuss the alienation, explain what really happened, and resolve the misunderstanding. However, when your child doesn’t feel safe with you yet, such a conversation feels like stepping into a trap.

It’s like the YouTube video “It’s Not About the Nail,” where the partner is trying to solve the problem when all the other person wants is to feel understood. When a child is avoiding you, it’s not the time to pull out explanations, timelines, or emotional appeals. Right now, they aren’t wondering what’s true.

They’re wondering if it’s safe.

So instead of launching into heavy conversations, tune in to everyone’s favorite mental radio station: WII FM—What’s In It For Me?

If your child’s nervous system is still in survival mode, the best way to connect is through low-stakes, enjoyable topics that interest them. Pop culture, hobbies, music, video games, favorite YouTubers, anime, sports, the latest superhero movie—these are safe ground.

These are conversations they can have without fearing backlash from the alienator later. Because let’s be honest… if the alienator is going to grill them after every visit or call, it’s much easier for them to say, “We just talked about Taylor Swift,” than “We talked about how I miss you.”

These seemingly superficial conversations are not a waste of time. They’re an invitation back into connection, and connection is the bridge to healing. Safety comes first. Trust follows.

Only after that can deeper conversations even begin.

Freeze

The freeze response is often misunderstood because it looks like nothing is happening. There’s no yelling, no running, no emotional outbursts—just stillness. A blank stare. Monotone answers. Shoulders curled inward. Delayed responses. A child who seems far away, even when they’re right in front of you.

But make no mistake… a freeze response is a full-body alarm. An alienated child who has entered emotional shutdown is not being cold or distant. They are in a protective state of dissociation.

This is their nervous system saying, “If I can’t fight, and I can’t flee, I’ll disappear on the inside instead.”

Dissociative behaviors (numbness, zoning out, disconnecting from emotions) are powerful survival tools. When the pain feels unbearable and no safe adult is available to help, the mind decides: If I don’t feel it, it can’t hurt me.

The child isn’t rejecting you; they are trying to survive a reality where love and belonging are conditional, and the cost of feeling might be too high.

Freeze is especially common with the alienating parent, who often punishes emotional expression or independence. However, it can also surface with the targeted parent, particularly if the child anticipates being asked to feel or say something they don’t yet have the safety to express, such as affection, remorse, or vulnerability.

How to Support a Child in Freeze

When your child is emotionally shut down, the key is not to pull, but to wait and witness with care. Here’s how you can help:

• Create safety through quiet presence. Don’t push for eye contact or conversation. Sit near them without expectation. Your calm energy is the message: You are safe here.

• Avoid “Why” questions. These trigger the thinking brain, which isn’t accessible in freeze. Use gentle observations instead:

“You seem really quiet right now. That’s okay. I’m here with you.”

• Offer grounding, not fixing. Touch a soft object together, hum a simple tune, or sit in nature. Grounding brings the body back from numbness to awareness, without forcing emotions to rise too quickly.

• Respect their pace. Silence is not rejection, it’s recovery. Each moment you stay regulated while they’re shut down builds trust in your presence.

• Give small, empowering choices.

“Would you like to sit here or over there?”
“Do you want to draw, or just rest?”

The freeze state softens only through continuous relational safety. When your child senses that they won’t be punished, pressured, or emotionally overwhelmed in your presence, their nervous system can begin to thaw. That’s when healing begins, not through long conversations, but through your unwavering, gentle commitment to meet them exactly where they are.

Fawn

The fawn response is the nervous system’s way of creating safety through submission and appeasement. In the context of parental alienation, fawning becomes a survival strategy—a child’s way of staying on the good side of the alienating parent, who often holds love and approval as a form of leverage.

Fawning can look like excessive flattery, mimicking the alienator’s beliefs or attitudes, overly helpful behavior, or quick emotional attunement to the alienator’s moods. Over time, this develops into deeply ingrained people-pleasing behaviors—a pattern of constantly managing others’ emotions to feel safe and accepted.

For the alienated child, love has become conditional. They learn that if they say the right thing, act the right way, or make others happy, they’re less likely to be punished or rejected.

While fawning is most often directed at the alienator, it can appear in subtler and more complicated ways with the targeted parent, especially if the child has been away from the alienator for a period of time. You may see:

• Blame shifting – “It wasn’t my fault, it was [someone else]!”

• Love bombing – Sudden intense affection followed by a request or emotional withdrawal.

• Emotional deflection – Pushing your buttons so you direct your anger somewhere else.

Another fawning behavior that often goes unrecognized is tattling or “snitching”—not to be helpful, but to redirect danger away from themselves. The child might report a sibling’s behavior, or even exaggerate something another adult did, to ensure that you are angry at someone else instead of them.

It’s a form of emotional diversion rooted in fear: If I control where the punishment goes, I won’t be the target.

At the same time, the child may also fear that if they don’t tell you, you’ll be mad at them for hiding something. So they snitch to avoid blame from both sides. It’s a no-win situation that reflects their deep need to stay safe in emotionally volatile environments.

How You Can Support a Child in Fawn

The alienated child doesn’t always know when they’re fawning. To them, pleasing others feels like love, because that’s how they’ve been conditioned to receive care and avoid conflict.

As the targeted parent, your job is to gently separate love from performance. You can help them unlearn these patterns by:

• Naming the behavior without shame: “You don’t need to protect yourself with compliments or stories. I care about you no matter what.”

• Creating emotional safety: “You don’t have to make me happy for me to love you.”

• Not overreacting to tattling or blame shifting: “Thank you for telling me. I’ll handle it. And just so you know, you’re safe even when you make mistakes too.”

• Modeling genuine, unconditional love: Love them on their quiet days. Love them when they’re sulking. Love them when they offer nothing at all.

Fawning is not manipulation in the adult sense. It’s a trauma-adapted behavior meant to survive power imbalances. And it dissolves, not through confrontation, but through safety, modeling, and time. When your child learns that they don’t have to please you to keep your love, they begin to heal and reclaim their sense of self.

Emotional State

When a child begins to feel physically safe with you, their nervous system slowly steps out of survival mode and into what is known in Conscious Discipline as the emotional state. This shift is subtle but significant. The child is no longer solely focused on protection—now they are seeking connection.

The question that guides their behavior shifts from “Am I safe?” to something far more vulnerable: “Am I loved?”

For an alienated child, this question is loaded with complexity. They are often torn between conflicting loyalties, internalized guilt, and a deep-seated craving to feel accepted again by the parent they have been taught to reject. In this state, their behaviors are no longer about fighting or fleeing danger. They are about finding a place to belong.

What Belonging Looks Like

It’s easy to overlook the ways a child expresses this desire for love and connection, especially when the signs are subtle or wrapped in inconvenient behaviors. Parents might dismiss emotional bids by saying things like, “He’s just trying to get attention,” without realizing that attention is the currency of connection.

Here are some common signs that a child is operating in an emotional state:

• Playfulness – They make silly jokes or tease gently, trying to open a low-stakes doorway to connection.

• Curiosity – They ask about your childhood, favorite movies, or “Did you ever play Pokémon Go?”

• Validation-seeking – They might ask, “Do you like this drawing?” or “Did I do it right?” as a way of checking if they’re still worthy of your approval.

• Personal sharing – They bring you something they care about—a meme, a favorite toy, a random fact—and wait to see your response.

• Mild testing – They may push a small boundary or make a sarcastic comment, gauging whether your love holds firm.

• Requests for help – Even in things they can do themselves, like tying their shoes or choosing clothes, what they’re really asking is, “Are you willing to show up for me?”

• Emotional vulnerability – They might become tearful, mention missing something small, or share a self-critical comment, inviting you to see their softer side.

Each of these behaviors is a bid for connection. The question isn’t “Do I get what I want?”—it’s “Do I matter enough to be seen and responded to kindly?”

In these moments, alienated parents often want to affirm their child, but how you affirm them matters. The way you speak into your child’s emotional state can either build trust or unintentionally reinforce the belief that love must be earned.

Judgments are value-laden statements that tie a child’s worth to how they behave. For example:

• “You’re such a good boy.”

• “I’m glad you behaved today.”

• “You’re the smartest kid I know.”

These may sound positive, but they teach the child that love and approval depend on performance. If they fail to meet expectations, they may internalize the belief: I’m not lovable unless I’m pleasing someone.

By contrast, encouragement recognizes effort, growth, and intrinsic qualities. It affirms without grading. For example:

• “You worked really hard on that.”

• “I saw how patient you were with your brother.”

• “You made a really thoughtful choice.”

Encouragement helps the child feel seen for who they are, not just praised for what they do. It fosters internal motivation and resilience, rather than people-pleasing and emotional overfunctioning.

To shift your language:

• Start with phrases like “I noticed…”, “You showed…”, or “I appreciate…”

• Focus on actions and traits instead of assigning identity labels.

The Brain Chemistry of Connection

Connection isn’t just a feeling—it’s a biological event. When a child feels loved and accepted, their brain releases chemicals like dopamine and oxytocin. These hormones:

• Regulate emotions and reduce stress

• Strengthen bonding and trust

• Support impulse control and long-term behavioral regulation

In other words, every time you respond to your child’s emotional bid with encouragement and warmth, you’re not just building a better relationship—you’re literally rewiring their brain toward healing.

The emotional state is fragile and transitional. Your child might show affection one moment and withdraw the next. That doesn’t mean you did something wrong. It means they are still learning what love feels like when it’s not conditional.

Here’s what alienated parents should remember:

• Notice the subtle cues—jokes, questions, small acts of sharing.

• Respond with encouragement that uplifts their character, not their performance.

• Stay emotionally steady even when feelings swing.

• Avoid performance-based love—don’t overpraise or overgive to win their approval.

• Show love even when nothing is earned.

Each time you meet their emotional needs with presence, patience, and unconditional love, you answer their quiet question—Am I loved?—with something they desperately need to believe:

“Yes. Always. No matter what.”

Executive State

After safety has been established (“Am I safe?”) and connection has been nurtured (“Am I loved?”), the door finally opens to the most powerful state of the brain: the executive state. This is where true healing begins.

The executive state is governed by the prefrontal cortex—the part of the brain responsible for reflection, emotional regulation, decision-making, empathy, and long-term planning. It’s the state we need to be in to learn, grow, and live with purpose.

The guiding question of the executive state is:

“What can I learn from this?”

This shift in thinking marks a profound turning point for alienated children. When they enter the executive state, they are no longer reacting to the world through fear or emotional dysregulation—they are responding to it with insight, curiosity, and intention.

But here is the catch.

You cannot force a child into the executive state, but you can create the conditions that allow them to reach it. This happens by consistently answering the earlier questions with your actions:

• “Am I safe?” → answered through your calm, grounded presence

• “Am I loved?” → answered through encouragement, unconditional care, and consistency

When a child’s body and heart begin to trust these answers, their mind becomes free to engage, reflect, and rebuild.

This is when the deeper work begins.

In the executive state, your child will begin to develop the emotional maturity needed to make sense of what they’ve been through. They may start to:

• Ask more reflective questions

• Express remorse or gratitude

• Acknowledge past behaviors with honesty

• Set healthy boundaries (with you, the alienator, or others)

• Initiate deeper conversations

• Take responsibility for their own actions without collapsing in shame

This is the space where your child can begin to reclaim their authentic self—the version of them that isn't reacting to someone else's control or shaped by a distorted narrative, but instead is rooted in self-awareness and integrity.

The shift to the executive state doesn’t just help repair the parent-child bond—it sets your child up for success in every area of life.

Children who spend more time in the executive state are more likely to:

• Set and achieve personal and academic goals

• Develop meaningful friendships and healthy romantic relationships

• Handle conflict without escalation

• Advocate for themselves and others

• Experience fewer symptoms of anxiety, depression, and hypervigilance

• Approach life with confidence rather than fear

In short, when your child no longer has to burn their energy on survival, they can invest it in their growth.

And that’s the real gift you offer them. Not just reconnection, but the foundation for a healthy, thriving future.

As a targeted parent, your role is not to lecture, fix, or force your child to heal. Your role is to create a relational environment where safety, love, and truth are felt so consistently that your child naturally begins to operate from their highest self.

When they are ready, they will ask, “What can I learn from this?”—not because you told them to, but because they finally feel free enough to wonder.

That moment, when it comes, is nothing short of sacred.

Tying it all together

When I reunited with my mother after almost 13 years of alienation, I wasn’t operating from logic or reflection. I was still finding my way out of survival mode. On the surface, I appeared calm. Inside, I was guarded, conflicted, and unsure how to bridge the years of pain and the terrible things I had once said and believed about her. I knew my past behavior was unfair, and frankly, reprehensible. But I didn’t know how to face it, let alone repair it.

What made all the difference was how my mother responded.

She never guilted me. She never demanded apologies or explanations. And she never told me what to do. She gave me respect and autonomy that felt so foreign to me after years of being tightly controlled by my alienating stepmother. My mom gave me space to be myself, which felt both strange and healing.

She always does everything she can to stay connected. She would pay for our flights so I could come visit her. She’d take us out to eat, not as a bribe or obligation, but simply as a way to share time and joy. She always told me how proud she was of me, never for what I did, but for who I was. Her words and actions, over time, answered a question I hadn’t even realized I was asking: Do I still belong here?

She always made sure I did.

And when my daughter was born, she showed up in every way she could. She held her, played with her, asked thoughtful questions, and became a steady presence—not just in my child’s life, but in mine. In many ways, my daughter became a bridge that brought us even closer, healing wounds that no conversation ever could.

The Brain State Model Isn’t Just for Kids

While this model is typically used to understand children’s behavior in a classroom setting, the model still works outside the classroom, and it’s just as powerful—and necessary—for adults. Many targeted parents are navigating their own trauma, grief, and emotional dysregulation. And many formerly alienated children are now grown, still carrying the scars of conditional love and unresolved shame.

If you’re an adult trying to reconnect with your child—or with yourself—this model offers a framework for reflection:

Survival State (Am I Safe?)

• Do you feel overwhelmed, reactive, or emotionally numb?

• Are you operating from fear, control, or exhaustion?

• Are you avoiding vulnerability or lashing out to stay protected?

If yes, pause. First, find ways to regulate your body, such as practicing breathwork, engaging in grounding exercises, or taking a moment of stillness.

Emotional State (Am I Loved?)

• Are you seeking validation from others to feel okay?

• Do you find yourself people-pleasing or second-guessing your worth?

• Are you over-apologizing, withdrawing, or reacting strongly to rejection?

These are signs that your need for connection and belonging isn’t being fully met. In this state, practice self-encouragement the way you would offer it to a child. Surround yourself with relationships that affirm who you are, without conditions.

Executive State (What Can I Learn From This?)

Once your nervous system is grounded and your emotional needs are acknowledged, you can transition into the executive state. This is where clarity, growth, and change happen.

Ask yourself:

• What’s this moment teaching me?

• What do I want to build from here?

• What boundaries, routines, or changes will support me staying regulated?

Alienated children who are still under the control or heavy influence of the alienating parent are most likely operating in the survival state, where behaviors are driven by fear, control, and self-protection.

On the other hand, children who have begun to break free from the alienator’s grip are more often found in the emotional state, where they are cautiously seeking connection and trying to understand where they belong.

It’s important to remember that these brain states are not fixed labels—they are fluid and can shift based on context, environment, and relational cues. This framework is not intended to diagnose, but rather to help parents orient themselves and more accurately interpret their child’s behavior based on where they might be in their healing process. Use it as a starting point, not a rulebook, and always respond to the child in front of you, not just the behavior you see.

This process isn’t linear. You or your child may move between states in a single day. But the more time you can spend in the executive state, the more resilient, connected, and aligned you’ll feel. You will be able to find meaning despite the alienation.

More importantly, you can be the foundation your child stands on, allowing them to find their meaning through the trauma.

Whether your child is a toddler or an adult, they may not yet have the emotional tools to self-regulate, especially after years of alienation. Their brains are still developing (or still recovering), and their perception of safety, love, and identity has been shaped by distortion.

But you can become the steady anchor they return to.

When you model groundedness—when you stay calm in the storm, offer love without strings, and affirm who they are instead of what they do—you provide the relational safety they need to develop trust again.

And over time, they will mirror you.

They will learn to ask “What can I learn from this?” not because you forced them to, but because your presence gave them the safety to grow.

Overall, the Brain State Model offers more than a parenting strategy—it offers a relational blueprint. One that can help you reconnect with your child, rebuild trust, and even heal the fractured parts of yourself.

Whether you’re trying to reach a child still caught in alienation or repairing the wounds as an adult child or parent, this model gives you a starting point:

• Build safety with calm, consistent presence.

• Build connection through unconditional love and encouragement.

• And when readiness arrives, walk with them into reflection, growth, and healing.

Love won’t fix everything overnight. But love, practiced with intention, can rebuild everything that matters. And that, more than anything, is what opens the door to coming home.

Liked this Article? Here are a Few Past Articles You May Like…

• Escaping the Prison of the Mind (A great follow-up on the emotional state after alienation).

• How to Talk With Your Alienated Child When They Don't Want to Talk To You (Good for navigating the survival state with your alienated child).

• Finding Meaning in Alienation When All Hope is Lost (Helping you grow in an executive state).

Additionally, be sure to watch the followup discussion I have with the Anti-Alienation Project based on this article.

Book Update

Some of you might have heard that I am working on a book about helping parents reunite with their kids.

I am still in the early stages of development, so I have a lot of research and planning to do before much writing can be done. With that said, I am making small steps of progress each month. I don’t have a concrete timeline yet, as I'm balancing parenthood, a full-time job, and freelancing.

That said, I like to think this newsletter helps me stay accountable :)

Feel free to ask any questions; I may even turn your question into a newsletter.

If you liked this article, please share it with someone who you think would benefit from it.

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Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

Are you a writer on Substack?

If you write articles on alienation or estrangement, let me know! I would be happy to exchange recommendations to better support our readers.

If you are a general reader who writes about other topics on Substack, please consider recommending Shortening the Red Thread, as that helps other parents find this newsletter so they can get the support they need to reunite.

As always, I deeply appreciate your support and am grateful for your feedback as I develop these articles.

Caught in the Maelstrom of Anguish

When I learned the truth about my alienation from my mother, I felt two emotions: intense anger like a storm and severe shame like a criminal.

Both of these emotions played a huge role in how I approached the world, though I will admit it was to my own detriment. When I described the anger to people, I would say, “It’s not like a billowing orange flame… it is more like a focused blue flame. Hot and precisely directed toward whatever I thought would be the next step to punishing those who hurt me.”

I felt like I owed my mother some amount of restitution as if her suffering for 12.5 years of alienation needed to mean something. What I had was a negative feedback loop. My shame would push me to take action, and my anger was how it manifested. I wasn’t happy. If anything, I was exhausted and felt alone. My activism in the alienation community led me to feel burnt out on multiple occasions, and I would help some people only to pull away again from exhaustion.

I wasn’t particularly good at setting boundaries either. Sometimes, I would stay up way past 1 a.m. (I had work at 6 a.m. the next day), talking on the phone to a parent who was bawling their eyes out to me, knowing there was nothing I could do but be there for them at that moment. Despite the repeated burnouts, I found myself returning to the alienation community to offer what little experience I had, not by way of virtue but out of shame.

I discovered the truth of my alienation in 2013, and this pattern of behavior continued until around 2020. In 2014, I fell into a deep depression, dropping out of college and spending my days working a dead-end retail job to get by. It took me several years to really pull myself out of that funk. I had to accept that the only way I could make things better was if I took the steps needed to live the life I wanted. I learned as much as I could about personal development and business, and I explored the skills I had that could lead to a better career.

In 2017, I created a 10-year plan, which would begin in January 2018. By 2028, I wanted to achieve three things:

1. I would own a house.

2. I would transition into a career I enjoyed.

3. I would reunite with my alienated brother.

I didn’t know how I would achieve these things, but in my mind at the time, I thought the first two items would help me achieve the third. Given that my brother lived in Singapore (2K dollar air ticket round trip), plus I am blacklisted from the country for not serving in their military (another 10K fine or imprisonment), I was convinced I would need a lot of money to reconnect with my brother.

This was my fantasy. I would learn the world of business so I could transform myself into a financial force to be reckoned with. Like Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights, I would return to Singapore, backed with an absurd amount of wealth that I could use at my disposal. Following this plan gave me an unshakable sense of purpose. I bought my house at the end of 2017 and chose to become a writer in 2019.

I had very little contact with my alienated brother at that time. Many of the methods I teach, like using Labels and Mirrors, using memes and humor to build rapport, and appealing to his interests, were the things that I learned as I built that trust with him. By the time COVID shut the world down, I had short bursts of conversations with my alienated brother.

I was still hellbent on becoming a financial mogul with a private jet, but I was nowhere close to that kind of net worth. As a result, the failures I experienced as a new writer felt agonizing. I had hoped that somehow I could skip the process of building mastery in my skills and somehow jump forward to the reward of wealth, a vast professional network, and an eye for opportunity. The reality was hard to swallow—every overnight success usually comes after decades of failure.

The Count of Monte Cristo

Sometime in 2020, my dad suggested I read The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas (the same author of The Three Musketeers).

I had told him of my goals multiple times—how I hoped to amass enough wealth to go back to Singapore and right the wrongs that were done to my brothers and me. All I knew was the book was casually referenced in the film The Shawshank Redemption, and it involved a prison break.

Given that Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights (another literature book where the main character leaves an abusive home and returns with vast wealth) suffers a morbid ending, I figured I would give The Count of Monte Cristo a read. Maybe he would prove to be a better role model for what I had envisioned for myself.

I have read a great deal of fiction when I was young, and I can confidently say that no book has ever reached me on an emotional and psychological level like The Count of Monte Cristo did.

The book itself is very well written, with plenty of irony, wit, and rich subtext to hold your attention. Here is a quick summary of the book:

Edmond Dantès is a young sailor with a bright future in early 19th‑century France, poised to marry his beloved Mercedes and rise within his ship’s crew. However, envious conspirators—Danglars, Fernand, and Villefort—fabricate a treason charge against him, sealing his fate. Betrayed and abandoned, Edmond is condemned to life in the forbidding Chateau d’If, a grim island prison from which escape seems impossible.

Within these dark confines, Edmond’s world shifts when he encounters the wise Abbé Faria, a fellow inmate whose mentorship unlocks both the power of knowledge and the secret of a vast treasure hidden on the remote island of Monte Cristo. With Faria’s teachings echoing in his mind, Edmond engineers a daring escape by assuming the identity of a deceased prisoner.

Reborn as the enigmatic and affluent Count of Monte Cristo, he reenters society with a singular mission: to dismantle the lives of those who wronged him. Utilizing his newfound wealth, astute intellect, and an array of disguises, he orchestrates an intricate web of revenge, ensuring that each betrayer faces a downfall as severe as the betrayal he endured.

Yet, as his meticulously plotted retribution unfolds, Dantès grapples with the moral complexities of vengeance versus justice. In his pursuit, he comes to question whether the bitter taste of revenge can ever mend the deep wounds of lost years, or if true redemption lies in the capacity for forgiveness and renewal.

The fundamental question of this novel is based on who possesses the right to enact judgment and retribution after great injustice. Dantès finds himself deeply conflicted after suffering a false accusation and wrongful imprisonment. His anger manifests in his disguises, where he pretends to be a friend to the people who hurt him while enacting an elaborate plot for revenge. It was only when someone innocent was hurt that Dantès realized the folly of his actions. Judgment is reserved for the divine.

My own intentions were far less malicious. If anything, I wanted to prove that I was strong and capable. Yet, for the first time in my entire life, I felt like an author had reached through space and time, gripped me by the collar, and said, “Andrew, the path you are on is not going to give you what you think you desire.”

All I wanted at that point was to reunite with my brother. And the truth was I had already done it, just not how I thought it would unfold. I envisioned needing a million dollars and a private jet to fly to Singapore and rescue my brother. But when I took a long, hard look at my situation, I had already reestablished a connection with my brother by being consistent and genuine in communicating with him. We were having candid conversations about politics, philosophy, and our aspirations. On other days, we shared the different projects we worked on professionally. The only thing I did not have was face-to-face contact with him, but I had virtually everything else.

I had initially based my goals for reunification on picking up where things left off—I was 18 and he was 11. But time has moved on, and in 2020, I was 25 and he was 18. We both had grown and become different people with far more nuanced perspectives in life.

What mattered wasn’t the idea of rescuing an 11-year-old little brother. That version of my brother didn’t exist anymore. What I had realized (through this book) was that my relationship with my brother was made possible by being present in the moment. What I thought would take a million dollars, a private jet, and 10 years was all achieved in 3 years with very little money.

The Prison of the Mind

The Count of Monte Cristo taught me something I wouldn’t have learned in typical books and videos on alienation.

In hindsight, we know that trauma leads us to behave in irrational ways out of fear and unhealed wounds. We also recognize that, in theory, we should take the moral high ground. However, what educational and scientific books struggle to capture is the emotional toll trauma has on the person.

Trauma is a heavy burden that taxes your energy and time. In many ways, trauma is a prison where you have the means to get out, but you have to figure out where the key to your cell is first. While trapped, you can have access to anything you need—addictions, coping mechanisms, and other distractions to make the prison time less agonizing. Or books, podcasts, and other educational resources to help you identify the path to freedom.

But I think the hardest part of this mental prison is that most people don’t even realize they are prisoners in their own minds. I see this in both people who are still struggling with alienation and those who have found ways to reunite.

Those who are struggling with alienation are either beaten down to the point of apathy or so angry that they lash out without any thought to the consequences of their actions.

In Dr. Viktor Frankl’s book, Man’s Search for Meaning, Frankl talks about how the Jews were fiercely angry (and rightly so) after surviving the Holocaust. Their families, communities, and livelihoods were torn apart and taken from them. And yet, somehow they had to find ways to pick up the pieces and carry on after WWII. In his book, he shares that in order to endure unimaginable suffering and still move forward, one must find meaning in that suffering—not by denying the pain, but by choosing a purpose that gives it context, a reason to live beyond the trauma, and a hope that transcends the circumstances.

(I write about finding meaning in alienation in my article: Finding Meaning in Alienation When All Hope is Lost)

Another example I have frequently seen is the alienated child who has discovered the truth of their history of abuse. Often, formerly alienated children are highly reactive. Any behavior that even reminds them of the manipulation and abuse they endured during the alienation explodes into conflict. The fear of getting caught up in abuse and manipulation is so great that a white lie is seen as gaslighting, and bragging is seen as narcissism.

Looking back at my own past, I see that the 10-Year Plan was a way to gain control over my life. I wanted to feel powerful, respectable, and competent. I wanted it so much that I was willing to forgo my integrity for it. And in an ironic twist of fate, integrity helped me reunite with my alienated brother.

Finding the Key to Freedom

The hardest part about reuniting with your alienated loved ones is that there is so much outside of your control. Often, the pain and trauma that comes from the alienator is enough to make you feel like you must also be strong, respectable, and powerful to be safe. There is a heightened sense of urgency; the child is with an abusive person right now. Therefore, something must be done right now. In a perfect world, it would be simpler to remove the child from the abusive person immediately to mitigate lifelong trauma.

However, we live in a world where money, network, power, influence, and resourcefulness dramatically impact who gets the child. And that condemns you to an indefinite prison sentence, where you can only leave once you process the trauma that placed you there.

Before you can understand how to get out of this mental prison, you have to know what it looks like to be free. Your freedom doesn’t start on the day the abuse stops. An alienated child can leave the alienator and still self-enforce the alienation. To be candid, my alienator lived in my head for years after leaving the home.

Getting out of the mental prison and healing the trauma wound is a journey to a place of stillness within. It means that the past no longer triggers you, the future no longer scares you, and you are free to be present in the moment.

When you have found peace within yourself, you are no longer swayed by the trauma that hurt you. You can speak about it objectively with complete vulnerability and openness. Instead of always being reactive, your actions are determined by your values.

The future ceases to be scary. You trade anxiety for hope and purpose, occupying yourself with goals and projects that are constructive and meaningful in your life. You might plan ahead, but you are not anticipating a catastrophic disaster.

But the most important piece is that you are present in the moment. Within this sense of stillness, there are no feelings of doubt or unworthiness. In your mind, you wholeheartedly accept that you deserve peace and joy. Your identity is yours, not an amalgamation of behaviors catering to others. When you are with someone, you are 100% attentive, never letting your mind wander off.

When you are able to give your full, genuine self, you carry a different energy that others will notice (especially your alienated loved ones). It becomes pointless to try to provoke you because that inner stillness is not affected by external factors.

So that brings us back to the million-dollar question.

How do you get to a place like this?

The first step is to believe it is possible. Nothing will work unless you believe in a calmer, better, and more peaceful you.

Next, you have to be willing to sit with the emotions that make you feel uncomfortable. This is where you discover the fears and pains that drive you subconsciously. There are many approaches you can take to explore these feelings, and not all of them will work for you. You may need different methods to help you at different stages of your healing journey. What matters is that you keep going even when it gets hard.

Here are some potential ways you can explore your subconscious:

• Reading fiction, especially if it has characters going through experiences you went through.

• Creating art (Poetry, stories, painting, music, sculpting, etc)

• Therapy

• Coaching

• Loving someone who genuinely loves you back (For example, a good romantic partner can be a mirror to who you truly are)

• Meditation (visualizations, prompted meditations based on oracle cards, breathwork, etc)

• Writing (journaling, telling your story, taking notes, free association, creating written resources to help others, etc)

• Helping or teaching someone else

• Spiritual or religious practices

• Spending time in nature

• Roleplay or acting exercises

• Somatic exercises

• Neurolinguistic Programming (NLP)

• Lucid dreaming

After exploring these feelings, you will have a list of behaviors you recognize as trauma responses. Identify what triggers those behaviors. Without judgment, acknowledge those behaviors as things that no longer serve you.

Whenever a trigger occurs, you must create as much space between the trigger and your reaction as possible. By creating space, you are actively changing how your brain handles these conflicts, shifting from a survival state to an executive thinking state.

For example, if you have a people-pleasing behavior and someone asks you to do a favor for them, and you know that person will not reciprocate your act of kindness, pause and give yourself the space to set a boundary.

Or perhaps you are someone who has been punished for standing up for yourself, and you feel angry when someone disagrees with you. Pause and examine the intentions of the person you are speaking to—is this disagreement from a place of malice or a different perspective?

This will take practice, and you may have emotionally overwhelming moments. And that is okay. We are all human and we won’t always feel at peace. As long as you consistently commit to taking positive steps toward being the best version of yourself, you will see steady improvement. You will also find more moments where you are relaxed and at peace, even when everyone worries about external matters.

I don’t know if The Count of Monte Cristo will give you the same kind of epiphany it gave me (it is a fantastic book though). What I do know is that your moment of clarity is within your grasp, so long as you have the courage to seek it out.

How is the Book?

March has been a challenging month for me, so book progress is going slow. I have some personal challenges I must take care of at work, so my book has moved more slowly than I wanted. With that said, I am setting the stage for the book through this monthly newsletter.

If you found any of these newsletter articles helpful, please share them with someone you think would benefit from them. Also, share your comments and feedback—it helps me improve this newsletter.

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

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The Disconnect in Communication with Alienated Kids

For many parents, one of the biggest hurdles in alienation is getting their kids to even communicate with them.

In severe cases of alienation, the child refuses to engage in conversation, and the alienated parent is left exasperated. Some parents try to flex their authority, only to discover that the child doesn’t care. In their minds, they have already removed you from the role of mother or father.

As time goes on, the conversations are getting shorter and less frequent. Your kids might ignore your messages, and if you are lucky, respond to them after a week. Some kids block your phone number and social media profiles, erasing you completely.

The abusive parent enforces the physical and emotional distance through the alienation. Your child parrots the insults and accusations that their abusive parent likely said to them first.

In cases where the alienated child can spend time with you, they might provoke you into an argument. Some kids are told heinous things about you, and when they visit, they demand answers as if they were your judge, jury, and executioner. Teenagers who are victims of violence might also mimic their abuser, projecting their pain onto you through aggressive and violent behavior.

Fights and arguments become a recurring theme when your alienated child communicates with you. In extreme situations, police or CPS get involved, turning a molehill into a mountain.

These frequent conflicts are intentional. They are intended to wear you down until you give up communication altogether while simultaneously reinforcing the negative accusations made against you.

Over time, many parents lose hope and live life numb from the pain.

So, how do you talk to someone who:

• Wants absolutely nothing to do with you

• Believes the most heinous lies about you

• And thinks you are a danger to their well-being?

Let’s start with a few hostage negotiation techniques from the FBI.

Alienation is like a hostage negotiation where the hostage has developed extreme Stockholm Syndrome. Your child is simultaneously the prisoner and the prison guard. As a result, they showcase the trauma of being manipulated while also defending their abuser.

When hostages are trapped in a building with armed terrorists, the FBI follows specific protocols to ensure the safety of the hostages. They do not antagonize the terrorists, nor do they assume they will play fair. Hostage negotiations are highly volatile. The terrorist is like a cornered rat, terrified that the authorities will hurt them. All it takes is a split second of overwhelming emotion for them to commit heinous acts against the hostages.

Chris Voss, a former FBI hostage negotiator, shares many stories of hostage negotiations in his book, “Never Split the Difference: Negotiating as if Your Life Depended on It.”

The moment a hostage negotiator begins communication with a terrorist, the clock begins. The hostage negotiator must build rapport with someone highly volatile with every reason to distrust them. And they have to do it fast so that they can rescue the hostages.

Building rapport requires learning as much as possible about the other person. This conversation is not like a date. There is no bonding over dinner and asking, “So, what is your favorite movie?”

Any question that they ask the terrorist could lead them to feel afraid, which could result in communication being shut down or, worse, harm to the hostages. Additionally, they don’t want to share any information with the terrorists that would give them an edge.

Despite all this, terrorists are still human. They may have terrible behaviors, but the universal elements of being human still apply. They want to be understood at an emotional level, and that angle is how you reach your alienated child.

In his book, Chris Voss shares two fundamental techniques for building rapport: Labels and Mirrors. These will be the bread and butter of your communication with your alienated child.

Labels

A label is an inference you make based on what someone else is telling you.

For example, if someone is excited as they tell you about attending a Taylor Swift concert, you could label it as:

“It sounds like you really like Taylor Swift’s music.”

A label is where you use empathy to make a statement about someone while subtly inviting them to confirm whether or not it is true.

Rather than ask a direct question like, “Do you like Taylor Swift?” you are casually making a statement. It doesn’t feel like you are asking for answers, and it organically stimulates conversation.

Furthermore, labels help you hide your questions with empathy. Too many questions in a row, and the conversation feels like a job interview or an interrogation. So, how do you ask a bunch of questions without asking any questions?

You use a label. Here is how you can quickly come up with a label.

Labels always start like this:

• It seems like…

• It sounds like…

• It looks like…

• It feels like…

When you construct a label, you are using empathy to make an educated guess about what the other person is feeling. If the other person says, “Yeah, that’s right” or “Yes, and…” you are golden.

If they totally disagree with you, then that is also a win, because it gives you more clarity around their thoughts.

One of the biggest disadvantages of alienation is that the targeted parents lack context and information about their child. However, when they ask the child questions, they are left with insults instead of insight.

By switching from asking questions to labeling the child’s thoughts and feelings, the parent has a greater chance of extracting what the child is really thinking.

Mirrors

Mirrors are a repetition of 1-3 words from what someone has said.

For example, if someone were to say, “My favorite guitar player is David Gilmour.”

You could respond with a mirror like, “David Gilmour?”

Using the words that someone else has spoken as a question does the following things:

1. It invites them to elaborate on what they are talking about.

2. It shows the person you are trying to understand them by using their language.

3. It is an act of respect and understanding, making them feel heard and valued.

Additionally, in negotiations or challenging discussions, mirroring can open up new avenues for understanding and ultimately lead to more creative solutions.

The technique is very subtle and incredibly powerful for communication.

How to Use Labels and Mirrors in Your Communication

I watch this video at least twice a year. It is the best video I have found that shows a live demonstration of labels and mirrors, and you can see just how powerful they are in action.

The most common thing I see is an alienated child will say something hurtful and insulting, and the targeted parent immediately gets defensive. The child might say things like:

• I hate you, or I don’t love you

• You are not my mom/dad. You are just a sperm or an egg donor

• You are crazy/unwell/unstable.

• You are a drug addict/alcoholic/useless person etc.

• You are a liar/cheater/hypocrite etc.

• You are the reason for the divorce, or you did [insert horrible accusation], and it is your fault.

Targeted parents hear this and get emotionally riled up. They don’t want their child to view them in that light and will fixate on trying to persuade them these things are false or at least more nuanced than the child believes.

However, this never works. You are trying to bring logic to an emotional conversation, and anyone who says that “Facts don’t care about your feelings” is missing the most important piece of the conversation. Your alienated child will not care if you claim the logical high ground. To them, you are as trustworthy as a conspiracy theorist. They believe you have dastardly ulterior motives.

Feelings matter in alienation, and they are unavoidable. Unfortunately, your child is not in a place to listen to your feelings, and you must be in the right headspace to guide them through theirs.

That is why you need to use labels and mirrors in your conversation. Instead of giving power to insults and accusations, you channel your curiosity. Explore how much your child understands and invite them to articulate what they are upset about. In doing so, you gain clarity around their feelings and show them that you understand them.

You don’t rush to speak after they say something. Instead, you sit with them in their emotions and try to understand their intentions and feelings through tactical empathy.

Once they feel validated, they will be more willing to open up to you. This may not happen immediately, but the effect will compound over time.

I must reiterate that this is not a time to share your feelings and thoughts. In normal circumstances, two people exchange information equally in a conversation. However, these are not normal circumstances.

Alienated children cannot reunite when they are trapped in the jaws of the abusive parent. They have to wait for when it is safe. Often, that means waiting until they are independent. If your child has positive memories of you being understanding and empathetic, they will remember that and will be more likely to reunite with you when they are ready.

Here is an Example of Using Labels and Mirrors in Alienation

Let’s say your child is accusing you of being the reason they are miserable, and they say it is all your fault. Your child is struggling in school, which leads them to get in trouble with the alienator for having bad grades. As a punishment, they are constantly being yelled at and cannot go to soccer practice until their grades are up.

The wrong things to do are:

• Apologizing for things you did not do.

• Dismissing their feelings with logic (e.g., “I am sorry you feel that way, but it is not true.”)

• Getting emotional and retaliating (e.g., “Why are you blaming me? You made these choices. Your [alienating parent] is the reason you are unhappy, not me.)

These responses only deepen the child's anguish. You must remain in an executive state; otherwise, you risk escalating the conversation into an argument.

Returning to the example, let’s explore how you can respond with labels and mirrors. (The child’s voice will be angry, but the read the parent’s voice as a low, calm, and slow voice, like a late-night FM radio DJ)

Child: I hate you. Everything is your fault and I don’t want to talk to you.
Parent: “You feel it is my fault?” (Mirror)

Child: Yes. Because you cheated on dad. You don’t care about this family.

Parent: “It sounds like you are under a lot of stress.” (Label)

Child: Of course, I am stressed. Because of you, I can’t focus on school and I am failing math.

Parent: Failing math? (Mirror)

Child: Yeah. Every time I go to school, my brain shuts down.

Parent: It sounds like your mind is focused on other more important things. (Label)

Child: Dad said if I don’t start getting A’s in math, I can’t go to soccer practice.

Parent: It sounds like you are worried about letting the team down. (Label)

Child: Yeah.

Parent: How about I help you with math so you can go to soccer practice?

In this example, no attention is given to the insults or accusations. If your child is fixated on something, then you can respond with a label or mirror about that thing to help them process their emotions about it. Speak slowly and calmly, channeling curiosity even if the insult hurts.

Again, the point is to draw out the child’s thoughts, feelings, and intentions. Doing so gives you clarity about what they are thinking, and it gives you more options to solve the issue. Children’s brains only develop fully when they are about 25. Thus, they struggle to articulate their emotions. That is why you need to master these techniques to help them articulate what they really need.

Practice Labels and Mirrors Everyday Until it is Second Nature.

Labels and mirrors are invaluable in communicating with your alienated child, and the best part is that you can apply them to any conversation.

Start by practicing at work and home, and practice with your friends. If you like to read or listen to audiobooks, I would also encourage you to read Chris Voss’s book Never Split the Difference: Negotiating as if Your Life Depended on It.

This book contains so many great communication insights (e.g., late-night FM DJ radio voice, What and How questions instead of Why, etc.) that I cannot cover them all in this newsletter without making it too long. If you prefer watching videos over reading, be sure to watch their videos on YouTube.

I will share a few great videos below.

First, here is his Tedx Talk—a great discussion about the power of tactical empathy.

Second, here is a video from his YouTube Channel about ultimatums. Alienated kids and alienators often give a lot of ultimatums to assert themselves. Usually, this comes from a place of deep insecurity, and Chris shares how you can navigate ultimatums.

Shortening the Red Thread Book Update

I have been doing more research about alienation, trauma psychology, and personal development to develop a clear path to shortening the red thread between you and your loved ones.

I will be putting together a questionnaire for parents, and you can expect that soon (likely in April or May). This questionnaire will ask questions like who your favorite experts are, general details about your alienation case, and what has helped you the most in your journey to reuniting with your alienated kids. I won’t ask for personal details or your alienation story, and all submissions will be anonymized.

I don’t have the questionnaire yet as I need to discuss some other details with my lawyer first before sharing it.

For now, if you would like to help me, please share this newsletter with other alienated parents and subscribe. It is completely free, and I will share all my updates here.

As always, comment with any questions or feedback below, and maybe I may turn one of your questions into a newsletter article!

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

Are you a writer on Substack?

If you write articles on alienation or estrangement, let me know! I would be happy to exchange recommendations to better support our readers.

If you are a general reader who writes about other topics on Substack, please consider recommending Shortening the Red Thread, as that helps other parents find this newsletter so they can get the support they need to reunite.

As always, I deeply appreciate your support and am grateful for your feedback as I develop these articles.

Auschwitz, 1944

Dr. Viktor Frankl and his wife were among the millions of Jews who were deported to the Nazi concentration camp in Auschwitz, Germany during WWII. At the camp, he and his wife were separated, and thus began Viktor’s journey of witnessing one of the worst demonstrations of human brutality in history.

As a psychoanalyst, Viktor Frankl was no stranger to treating trauma, and he had been developing a psychotherapeutic model known as logotherapy. Walking into Auschwitz, he carried only one belonging remaining of his past life—his manuscript for his book on Logotherapy. The Nazis took it away immediately, along with his clothes, and burned it.

In the concentration camp, Viktor noticed a pattern in the way other prisoners behaved when facing the abuse and trauma of the Nazis.

He broke it down into three stages.

Stage 1: Shock and Disorientation

Stage 2: Apathy

Stage 3: Disillusionment

At the end of WWII, Viktor Frankl was freed from Auschwitz and he took these findings and wrote one of the most important books on human psychology, Man’s Search for Meaning.

While the atrocities of the Nazi concentration camps are very different from alienation, I find there to be many lessons that we can extract from Viktor’s thesis. The alienated parent and child find themselves in a sort of prison. Their ability to be authentic to themselves is shattered by the trauma and pain caused by the abusive parent. And the path to freedom begins with finding purpose in the face of absurdity.

How Alienation Impacts Parents and Kids

Stage 1: Shock and Disorientation

Alienation begins before the official collapse of the relationship. A toxic parent might casually make derogatory remarks about the other parent long before divorce is filed. Their behavior might be seen as normal in the household.

Once alienation begins, the child and the targeted parent experience their own forms of shock and disorientation.

The targeted parent is overwhelmed by the daily responsibilities of life (work, self-care, and parenting) and the collapse of their relationship. Their energy is directed to managing their soon-to-be ex-partner’s emotional outbursts, accusations, and attacks. It does not take long for the targeted parent to feel completely lost. The person they fell in love with is gone, replaced by someone vindictive and hurtful.

For the child, the separation puts them into survival mode. The child unconsciously listens to the parent who has more authority, even if that is the abusive parent. The abusive parent will give the child a warped perspective of the separation, making it easy to blame the targeted parent for everything that is going wrong.

As the alienation progresses, the targeted parent has to scramble to reestablish their finances, living situation, and custody of their children while processing their own emotions. Add in the stress of their own child turning against them, and the parent is left bewildered with no idea what to do next.

Stage 2: Apathy

As alienation progresses, both the child and the targeted parent experience some form of apathy.

For the targeted parent, all the things they used to be able to do as a parent no longer work. The child does not respect them or listen to them. Anytime the parent tries to open up a conversation, the child shuts it down.

When everything stops working, parents may go online looking for answers. They may find thousands of parents in Facebook groups sharing their communication challenges with other parents.

Years go by with little to no progress. In many cases, the child has chosen to go no contact with the targeted parent for years. At some point, all severely alienated parents ask themselves, “Do I just give up?”

In the end, some parents lose hope of reconnecting with their children and accept that their children will never contact them. The pain of tolerating their child’s absence is less than the pain of continuous rejection.

Alienated children experience apathy differently. After the shock of the divorce/separation, they attach themselves to the parent who demonstrates the strength and leadership to protect them. This is pure survival instinct.

As children, they cannot discern manipulation from leadership. They lack the insight and experience to know how to care for themselves, so they trust the parent who has the confidence to provide them with structure and direction.

Life with an abusive parent is never easy. A parent willing to alienate their own children from another parent is also likely to use many other abuse tactics to control the child. The child learns quickly to become an obedient shell of themselves. They suppress their true identity in favor of their own survival.

For the alienated child, apathy begins within themselves. They ignore their own interests and passions to cater to their abuser. In doing so, the child’s achievements are credited to the abusive parent, while their failures are blamed on the child.

To feel anything is too exhausting for the alienated child. Outside of alienation, a child has other facets of their life to balance like school, friends, romantic interests, and personal hobbies. It is far easier to get lost in the world of school or video games than it is to process your feelings about the family breakdown.

But the biggest challenge for the alienated child is that they confuse apathy for peace. When the alienated parent reaches out to the child, it feels like a disturbance of their peace. The abusive parent is more likely to get angry and may even punish the alienated child. This sudden shift jolts the child into survival mode, often leading to them rejecting the alienated parent to return to a stable state of apathy.

Stage 3: Disillusionment

Every adult survivor of alienation has told me the same thing… after realizing the truth about alienation, they were furious. Not just angry or frustrated, but bitter rage burning like wildfire.

When the Jews were freed from the concentration camps after WWII, they too, were angry. Many lost their families and livelihoods and endured unspeakable brutality for years. And some were so hurt they stopped caring about the impact of their actions. The world had hurt them, so they felt they had a right to show the world the pain they had endured. This was part of the journey to heal.

One of the biggest challenges the alienated child has to overcome is to learn how to see the world from the lens of a regular person instead of a traumatized child. Throughout the alienation, the child learns to read facial cues and shifts in energy to avoid being targeted for any abuse.

These skills are incredibly valuable as a survival mechanism in this setting. However, the rest of the world operates differently. A person who lies because they don’t want to look stupid in a group setting is very different from someone who gaslights you. A boss who lacks empathy and focuses solely on their professional growth is not automatically a narcissist.

When someone behaves in a way that reminds the formerly alienated child of their abuser, they quickly burn the bridges, fearing they might get swept up in another manipulative relationship.

Disillusionment takes a different form for the alienated parent. If the alienation has gone on for several years, there is a huge loss of time that can never be recovered. Some parents might even find it strange to step back into the role of a parent again. If your child has grown up without you, your natural parental authority doesn’t feel the same.

You might ask yourself, “What role do I play now as a parent for my child?”

Healing from the trauma of alienation requires that both the parent and child acknowledge the following things:

• While the opportunity to spend time together in the past has passed, there is still an opportunity to build a relationship now.

• Do not attribute malice to what could be a mistake or misunderstanding. Most of the time, people make quick decisions based on emotional impulses.

• Small talk leads to big talk. There is no need to rush to discuss everything about the alienation. Instead, learn who the other person is and learn to love them in a way that supports their growth.

• Both of you are on a journey of discovering meaning, truth, and purpose within your lives despite the trauma and pain you both have endured.

What Gives You Meaning?

The idea of knowing our purpose is often overwhelming, as though we should have suddenly figured it all out. But the truth is that we are often just improvising. We make the best decisions based on the moment and the information available.

What I have found is that meaning does not have to come from one thing. Rather, it can come from many smaller things that bring you joy and purpose.

I have found meaning and purpose in being a father, writer, friend, husband, and son. Somedays, the most meaningful thing I do is watch a movie with my wife. On other days, I speak on a virtual stage and support alienated parents in their reunification journey.

Meaning and purpose are never static. What is meaningful to you now may not resonate as much 10 years from now. Identifying meaning and purpose is a question we repeatedly ask ourselves throughout our lives.

As Viktor Frankl would put it, there are three ways to find meaning and purpose in life.

1. Creating a personal legacy.

2. Loving another person deeply.

3. Turning tragedy into personal triumph.

I believe you can do all three in your lifetime.

I highly recommend spending an afternoon reading Man’s Search for Meaning. I have read it several times, and it has been life-changing. As a bonus, I would also like to share this short interview of Viktor Frankl. 

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler

P.S. For those who are still alienated from their loved ones, finding meaning in the trauma is probably the last thing you want to do. When you are in pain, the only thing you want is for the pain to go away.

In future editions of Shortening the Red Thread, I will share more actionable tips for reconnecting with your alienated child. You can also look forward to the March 2025 edition, in which I will share some communication techniques you can use immediately.

That said, I want to challenge you to explore what healing looks like in your life. Alienation doesn’t end once you have reconnected. The true ending is after you both heal from the experience. And it is much easier to guide your alienated child toward healing when you are strong and aligned within yourself.

Hi, I’m Andrew

I am a formerly alienated child who reunited with his mother after over 12 and half years of severe alienation. Throughout that time period, I saw my mother a couple of times and had no contact for 3 - 5 year stretches.

As a kid, I was mostly apathetic about my mother. I didn’t want to think about her, and I had replaced her with my stepmother, who was the alienator. My stepmother employed a number of abusive behaviors, from physical violence, gaslighting, giving conditional gifts, verbal insults, and invasion of privacy.

At 6 years old, we moved across the USA to Michigan, putting about 10 hours of driving time between my mother and me. At 12 years old, we moved again, but to Singapore.

Growing up, I was taught to build my identity around people pleasing and being useful. I learned to anticipate problems before they happened so that I could mitigate potential conflicts. As I got older, I accepted the idea that my mother and I would never have a relationship because I believed the divorce was entirely her fault.

But in 2012, everything was flipped on its head.

My father’s health began declining rapidly due to a multiple sclerosis episode, and his faltering marriage with my stepmother started getting more toxic. It was around this time when my stepmother started denigrating my father, telling me shocking stories about drug abuse and rampant alcoholism.

There was one flaw in my stepmother’s plan though… I wasn’t five years old anymore.

At 18, I had graduated secondary school (high school in Singapore) and was waiting to go to college. I passively watched everything like a fly on the wall. People who abuse drugs and alcohol usually do a poor job at hiding it.

And while my father is no saint in this coming divorce, I could tell when I was being lied to. I did my own detective work and confirmed my suspicions. What I was being told was lies intended to bring about shock. It is meant to destabilize my sense of judgment so that I would question his integrity at every decision he made.

Eventually, my father’s health reached a critical point where he needed a healthcare plan that he could afford. The only solution was to return to the USA, where he could enroll in disability.

I left the country with my father and brother in secrecy. This wasn’t an easy decision. Not only were we leaving behind friends and family, but we also broke a Singaporean National Service law. Under this law, males under 16 who have a permanent residentship are required to serve two years in the Singapore military. Re-entering Singapore would result in a two-year prison sentence and/or a fine of up to $10,000. I also forfeited a full-ride engineering scholarship with a guaranteed paid internship after graduation.

When I returned to the US, I blocked my stepmother and other family members who supported her on Facebook. I didn’t want to deal with the drama, which mostly consisted of rants berating me for shirking responsibility—particularly for walking out on my scholarship.

While blocking people, I saw my mother’s account, which I had blocked as a teenager. I paused, wondering if I had been too harsh by avoiding any contact with her. I acted on impulse, and I unblocked her.

The next day, she messaged me on Facebook to ask how I was doing. That began our journey to reunite. By Christmas, we met in person for the first time in over ten years.

And as of January 1st, 2025, we have been reunited for over 12 years (almost the same time we were alienated).

Reuniting with your alienated child in 2025

For many parents, the holidays are a knife to the gut because the people they want to celebrate with are behind the closed doors of an abuser.

If you have been alienated from your child for a long time, you likely have given up on New Year’s resolutions. There is no way to predict when your child will come back, if at all, and the thought of that can crush your confidence very quickly.

You might know someone who sets a New Year’s resolution like, “I want to lose 20 pounds by summer,” only to give up working out before January.

Setting a deadline for reunification with your alienated child is dangerous because it gives you the illusion of control. It deceives you into thinking you only have to “wait it out.”

So many parents are crushed to see their child self-enforce their alienation after their 18th birthday because they fell for the myth that reunification will happen when their child becomes an adult.

You might think, “Alright, Andrew. Nothing I have done is working. Where do I start, then?”

1. Build a Home

Instead of resolving to reunite with your child by a specific date, set smaller achievable goals to build a home for your child to return to.

Every person has to build themselves up in these areas:

• Finance

• Relationships

• Professional Growth

• Lifestyle

• Spiritual and/or Religious

• Personal Development

When one or more of these areas are lacking, problems crop up and drain you emotionally. It is very hard to be patient and kind when you are struggling financially to pay your bills or have unresolved trauma interfering with your happiness.

The journey of reuniting with your child starts with you. As you become stronger, your child will naturally feel an attraction toward you because they need someone strong to rely on for their survival.

As you strengthen each of these areas in your life, you will build a home that your child will feel safe in, especially since they are constantly living in fear of their safety with their abusive parent.

2. Strengthen your identity

All change in our habits begins with how we perceive ourselves.

James Clear speaks about this in great detail in his book Atomic Habits.

If you believe you are a failure, you are correct. Conversely, if you believe you are a good person, you are correct.

Often, when people are setting goals, they tend to think that outcomes will motivate them. Alienated parents visualize their children returning, cutting off their abusive parent. Then, reality kicks in. The kids don’t wise up, and the alienated parents question their identity.

Other parents might try changing their processes to reunite. They read all about enmeshment, gaslighting, narcissism, and mental disorders. Armed with surface-level knowledge, they masquerade as self-taught therapists trying to logically explain to their children the abuse they are enduring.

Consequently, the children are pushed away even further.

Positive movement in any goals you set is based on your identity. A healthy person does not exercise and eat nutritional food because they have a goal of being healthy. They do it because that is what a healthy person does.

The first lesson I learned at the beginning of my writing career was to call myself a writer—even though I had no professional experience. Writers write… a lot, so if I wanted to build a career as a writer, I would need to write consistently.

When you look at your identity as a parent, how do you perceive yourself?

Take a notepad and write down what comes to mind. If there are negative labels attached to your identity, explore them. Where do they come from? Do they have a voice or personality attached to them? Are they remnants of trauma from your upbringing?

These questions can help you break down limiting beliefs and trauma responses embedded in your identity.

As you explore your identity, you will see a growing list of positive qualities that remind you of who you truly are. And if you live a life rooted in compassion, love, generosity, integrity, diligence, responsibility, and empathy, your child will be more likely to believe you.

3. Your child is on a journey where they need to learn their own truth.

I interviewed Penny Tremblay, a corporate trainer who was alienated from her children, and she shared several profound pieces of wisdom that helped her reunite with them.

She was at a low point in her life, and nothing seemed to be going right. Her kids refused to communicate with her, and all she wanted was to have a relationship with them.

And one of my favorite things that she says in this podcast episode was that a friend had told her that her children were on a journey that didn’t involve her. Everyone has a journey they undergo in this lifetime. We experience unique challenges and make the best possible decisions based on the options available.

Alienation isn’t permanent. It is a journey that the child has to cross to find their own identity. Even for myself, I don’t think I would be the same person were it not for the alienation.

In a perfect world, there would be no pain or struggle. However, human beings do not have the privilege of an easy life. We can choose to envy those who seem to have had it easier, or we can rise above the challenges presented to us.

When your child sees you rising above the challenges laid before you, they are unconsciously encouraged to rise above their own strife.

Your child is on a journey where they have to discover their identity after it has been taken from them. At some point, they will need to cross the threshold and connect with you to rediscover the love you hold for them and the parts of their identity that have been suppressed.

All you can do while your child is on this journey is to project your intentions to reunite with God, the universe, or another spiritual entity so that it can manifest while you build a home for your child to return to.

My interview with Penny is one of my favorite interviews, and I highly recommend watching it.

Watch the interview with Penny Tremblay here.

What’s Coming Next?

I have quite a few projects that I am working on that I will share with you once the time is appropriate. For now, you can expect a newsletter to be released at the beginning of every month, where I will share key insights to help you with your reunification.

Feel free to ask any questions, and I may even take your question and turn it into a newsletter.

I am also working on a book…

Here is what I can share right now.

The book is going to be written to help alienated parents who are actively trying to reunite with their children, regardless of age or severity of alienation. I will be interviewing experts and gathering the latest data on alienation to provide you with the step-by-step process to help you build rapport with your child so they return back to you.

But that’s not all.

Alienation doesn’t end just because the child returns to the targeted parent and after speaking to several formerly alienated kids, there is also a critical piece that needs to happen after the alienated child and parent reunite.

Both parties need to heal their relationship.

This book will support the healing journey by highlighting potential pitfalls and suggesting communication strategies that you and your child can use to find common ground and build a path moving forward.

The book is still in the research and draft phase, so stay tuned for future updates.

Happy New Year, and may the years ahead bring you answers, peace, and pure joy.

Until next time,

Andrew Folkler