Family Estrangement During the Holidays: Healing Is Possible

As Christmas approaches, many homes fill with familiar sights and sounds: twinkling lights, shared meals, well-worn traditions, and the annual hope—sometimes fragile—that family gatherings will bring warmth and connection. Yet, for a growing number of Americans, the holidays instead highlight an aching absence. Empty chairs at the table, unreturned invitations, and carefully avoided conversations tell a quieter story—one of family estrangement.

Going No Contact

The number of estranged families is climbing—on my caseload and across the country. A growing cultural phenomenon known as “going no contact,” in which an individual severs ties with a family member, has become increasingly common. A recent study found that nearly one-third of Americans are estranged from someone in their family, and studies indicate that the vast majority of estrangements are initiated by the adult child. On social media, the hashtag #toxicfamily has been used more than 2 billion times as adult children seek affirmation for stepping away from a parent or relative. And they are finding it. Online communities offer validation, reinforcing the belief that cutting ties is not only acceptable but often necessary.

As a psychologist specializing in couples and family therapy, I find this growing wave of estrangement deeply unsettling, especially during a holiday season that centers on love, belonging, forgiveness, and shared humanity. Behind every severed relationship is a complex mix of pain, misunderstanding, unmet expectations, and heartbreak. It is rarely a single moment that leads someone to “go no contact.” More often, it’s an accumulation of miscommunication, hurt, and disappointment that slowly erodes connection.

The personal grief and familial loss are tragic enough, but the long-term consequences of this trend reach far beyond individual households. They are profound—and ultimately damaging—for our communities and culture. We were created to live in families—imperfect, complicated, sometimes messy—and the ability to stay connected through difficulty may be one of the most important tasks of our time.

One major factor is the widening definition of trauma, harm, abuse, and neglect. Over the past two decades, our cultural understanding of “harm” has expanded so dramatically that many ordinary relational tensions now carry clinical weight. A 2016 study illustrates this fact, and social media has only accelerated this shift, magnifying every wound, misunderstanding, or conflict through an ever-present megaphone.

At the same time, our relational expectations have grown to unprecedented heights. This is true not only in parent-child dynamics but also in marriages and friendships. We are searching for the perfect partner, parent, or friend—the flawless person who meets every emotional, psychological, and practical need. But this ideal doesn’t exist. Parents, in particular, face extraordinary pressure. The bar for “good enough” parenting has skyrocketed: mothers and fathers are expected to raise resilient, emotionally intelligent, independent children, while also functioning as empathetic coaches, mental-health experts, learning-disability specialists, financial advisors, and more. It is unrealistic and unsustainable. No wonder the U.S. Surgeon General recently named parenting one of the major stressors of adult life.

Compounding this is a growing sense of personal entitlement paired with a lack of basic relational skills. Many young adults have never learned how to navigate conflict, engage in difficult conversations, or repair ruptured relationships. It can feel far easier to walk away—to block, delete, unfollow, and move on—than to stay and work through discomfort. In a swipe-right culture, cutting ties can feel like the path of least resistance.

We were created to live in imperfect, complicated, sometimes messy families, and the ability to stay connected through difficulty may be one of the most important tasks of our time.

Additionally, our western world today places immense value on personal happiness, growth, identity, political beliefs, and—perhaps most prominently—mental health. These themes dominate our cultural narrative, and because they are celebrated, they often become the lens through which we evaluate our relationships. The most common refrain I hear is, “I need to protect my mental health.” So going “no contact” then becomes a virtuous act and a step towards increased self-care. And to be clear, prioritizing mental health is a positive and necessary shift; as a psychologist, I’m all for it! But it raises an important question: have we taken this too far?

A Culture of Fragile Young Adults?

In The Coddling of the American Mind, Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt argue that we are, indeed, raising young adults to be less resilient and more fearful of ordinary human conflict. They contend that a culture of “safetyism” has taught this generation to interpret discomfort as danger, disagreement as harm, and emotional tension as a sign that a relationship is toxic. When young people grow up believing the untruth that “what doesn’t kill you makes you weaker,” they enter adulthood without the tools to navigate relational stress, tolerate imperfection, or repair ruptures. Instead of learning conflict resolution, nuance, and perspective-taking, many have learned avoidance—leading them to view estrangement not as a painful last resort, but as a reasonable solution to emotional discomfort. In this way, current cultural forces map directly onto the rise of family cutoffs: if young adults see themselves as fragile and relationships as sources of potential harm, cutting ties can feel not only justified but necessary. 

What Can We Do?

While reconciliation may not be possible—or wise—in every situation of family estrangment, there are certain practices that can be cultivated that can make a difference. Here are four suggestions that can help on the path to healing.

1. Turn Inward

The path toward reconnection begins with self-reflection. It is far easier to blame the other—to villainize their actions and excuse our own—than to honestly examine our part in the conflict. But genuine healing requires a willingness to look inward. As the fourth step of recovery urges, we must make “a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.” This kind of honest appraisal demands courage and humility: a willingness to confront our own flaws, pride, and, as late philosopher Dallas Willard describes, the “warpedness” within the human will. In short, we must attend to the speck in our own eye before focusing on the plank in someone else’s.

In a cultural moment that prizes autonomy and emotional safety above all else, choosing to repair a fractured family bond is a profoundly countercultural act—one rooted in humility, courage, and hope. 

Willard reminds us that we cannot grow without first acknowledging the “ruined” places within us—our distorted thinking, reactive emotions, unhealthy patterns, and relational blind spots. Because modern culture is uncomfortable with the language of moral agency, we often focus on external explanations while ignoring the role of choice. 

2. Own Your Part

The willingness to self-reflect is not only a sign of emotional maturity, but it’s also a powerful agent of change and the first real step toward reconnection. As we grow in self-awareness, we begin to see the relational dynamic with greater clarity. And once we’ve acknowledged where we’ve missed the mark— moments when we’ve been impatient, unkind, distracted, or simply not the parent or child we hoped to be —we move toward humility and lay the groundwork for rebuilding trust. 

Estranged relationships do not heal through avoidance; they heal through slow, steadfast acts of responsibility, empathy, and “both/and” understanding. 

This courageous and vulnerable step of accepting and acknowledging our own brokenness—not just our wounds but our failures—shifts us out of a reactive, defensive posture and into a place where we can respond with greater thoughtfulness and intention. This is the soil in which genuine reconnection grows.

3. Listen to Understand

This posture of self-reflection naturally expands our capacity to listen to understand, rather than listen merely to respond—a habit most of us fall into without realizing it. When we set aside our own defensiveness long enough to consider another person’s perspective, curiosity begins to replace criticism, and compassion softens judgment. Empathy is born. This shift does not erase our own hurt; it simply broadens the frame through which we see the relationship.

4. Embrace “Both/And”

One framework that supports this widening perspective is dialectical thinking, a concept rooted in philosophy and later adopted across the social sciences. At its core, dialectics rests on three principles: everything is interconnected; change is constant; and opposing truths can be integrated into a more accurate whole. In family relationships, this often sounds like: I feel both grateful and frustrated by how my parents handled conflict. Both can be true. One does not cancel out the other.

The ability to hold these dualities—this “both/and” thinking—is vital for personal well-being and relational repair. It allows us to engage in conflict without surrendering our voice, because we can acknowledge that there is truth on both sides. Practicing dialectical thinking is, at its essence, an exercise in cognitive flexibility and compassion. Our stories become thicker, richer, and closer to the truth when we dare to hold complexity with humility.

And when it comes to love—especially love strained by distance or estrangement—this capacity for “both/and” is not optional. It is the very skill that allows relationships to heal, deepen, and begin again.

(Re)Connection: A Courageous Act of Grace

Christmas tells a story of drawing close. For Christians, this holiday season is all about a God who enters directly into our gritty, fallen world; He does not remain distant. And so, we’re reminded that we are made in love, for love, and by love; we are created for connection. For those navigating estrangement, this time of year can intensify grief and longing—but it can also gently invite reflection and perhaps forgiveness.

During this season, I’d invite you to reflect, and know that reconnection is rarely quick, and almost never simple. It asks each of us to look inward with honesty, to acknowledge our limitations without collapsing into shame, to repent before repairing, and to hold space for the complexity of those we love. In a cultural moment that prizes autonomy and emotional safety above all else, choosing to repair a fractured family bond is a profoundly countercultural act—one rooted in humility, courage, and hope. 

Estranged relationships do not heal through avoidance; they heal through slow, steadfast acts of responsibility, empathy, and “both/and” understanding. And while reconciliation may not be possible—or wise—in every situation, cultivating these practices matters deeply. Especially at Christmas, when the ache for belonging is close to the surface, choosing connection over comfort and love over separation is a courageous act of grace. It is in these slow, imperfect efforts that trust can be rebuilt, stories can grow thicker, and love—after distance or rupture—can begin again.

Andrea Gurney, PhD, is a licensed clinical psychologist, professor of psychology at Westmont College, author of Reimagining Your Love Story: Biblical and Psychological Practices for Healthy Relationships, and creator of Marriage Bootcamp—a research-backed e-course designed to help couples strengthen their marriage.

*Photo credit: Shutterstock