Finding Love after Alienation Part II
How to restore the loving familial bond after alienation - STRT August 2025
“The day the child realizes that all adults are imperfect, he becomes an adolescent; the day he forgives them, he becomes an adult; the day he forgives himself, he becomes wise.”
~ Alden Nowlan
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:
You and your child both learn to recognize and describe what is happening inside, rather than reacting automatically.
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
“There are two things children should get from their parents: roots and wings.”
~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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
Excellent, insight info/guidance... Thank you for writing "Shortening the Red Thread."