Divorce wreaks havoc. It turns your life completely upside down. One of my favorite analogies is to imagine your house being picked up, flipped over, and placed upside down, and now you find yourself in the middle of that mess. That is exactly what it is like when you go through divorce.
But let’s have a conversation about how divorce can impact your relationship with your family — and most importantly, with your parents… with your mother.
How many people ended up becoming closer to their parents because of this transition? Because you got support. Because you didn’t feel alone going through it. Because you always had a place to go when shit was hitting the fan.
But on the flip side, how many people ended up becoming estranged from their parents because they felt like they had to prove and over-explain themselves to the very people who should understand them? To justify their decisions. To make their parents comfortable. To support their parents because they felt uncomfortable and simply didn’t know how to support you.
And when you are going through it — especially when you are trying to break free from a terrorist, the person who promised to love you but antagonizes you the moment you say enough — you start questioning everything.
Why is my relationship with my parents starting to shift is one of those questions.
You find yourself in a place where you are trying to understand how you got here. And this is where it gets fascinating - one of my favorite words to use when very little makes sense.
People don’t end up in abusive and toxic relationships for no reason. They end up in them because sometimes the dynamic feels familiar. Because sometimes what we recognize as love is shaped by what we were exposed to when growing up.
See where I am going with this?
People who are healing after such turmoil start looking deeper. Not just at the ex, but at what led them to choose that person in the first place. And the answer often points back to your childhood and your family environment.
The patterns.
The dynamics.
The things you learned about love, respect, conflict, boundaries, and what you were supposed to tolerate.
Children develop their attachment styles early based on their family dynamics. And when we become adults and decide to actually answer the whys — especially after divorce — we can start seeing things we couldn’t see before.
It wasn’t just about the ex. It was about understanding why certain things felt familiar, why certain behaviors were tolerated, and what we had learned to accept as normal.
And sometimes a major life transition is what finally gives you enough space and breathing room to see those patterns for what they are.
So why do I think so many estrangements happen after divorce?
Because sometimes adult children finally start gaining clarity. They start connecting the dots between the relationship they just left and the relationships they grew up with.
The divorce didn’t cause the family fallout.
It exposed what has been hidden from plain sight.
And let’s laser-focus on the mother-daughter relationship, because that may be one of the hardest bonds to break. To be completely honest, I don’t even know if it can ever truly be broken.
A daughter can spend years looking for validation from her mom. Wanting support. Wanting unconditional love. Wanting a safe space to go to when she feels like she has nothing left to give. Or is she actually looking for the validation and love she never received?
As a mother myself, I know we are always connected to our children by an invisible umbilical cord. But just because we think we love them doesn’t mean they feel loved. Those are not the same thing.
So when a daughter finally says, “I need space. I can’t talk to you anymore,” it isn’t necessarily because she doesn’t love her mom. It may be because maintaining the relationship is costing her more than she can afford to give while she is trying to rebuild herself. She may feel emotionally drained. She may feel obligated. She may be trying to support her kids while simultaneously trying to hold herself together.
It may have been one of the hardest decisions she has ever had to make. Because she isn’t just letting go of a relationship. She is letting go of a person she never stopped loving. And she may also be letting go of the person she believed was supposed to love her simply because she exists.
Not because of what she does for them.
Not because of the image she creates for them.
Just because she is their daughter.
That is the unconditional love we believe exists between mothers and their children.
So what happens when an adult daughter starts feeling like there are conditions and requirements attached to that love? She disconnects. And she mourns that loss every single day.
It is such a confusing process because it is always mixed with loving your mom while simultaneously knowing that staying connected to her is destroying you. And then there is the layer of society telling you that you shouldn’t be doing this.
“But she did her best.”
“She’s your mother.”
“She loves you.”
And you keep questioning yourself for the same reasons… but she is my mom. And she says she loves me.
So let’s untangle a few things and see if any of the following sounds familiar:
Guilt trips used to evoke a reaction: “We did everything for you and you’re being ungrateful.”
Challenging your established boundaries: “Well, I’m not feeling well and you’re refusing to make one small gesture of support.”
Martyrdom: “If I had known, I wouldn’t have put my entire life under my children’s feet just to have it trampled.”
Sweetness wrapped around an accusation: “I love you and wish you the best.” Words that sound loving but leave you feeling accused, guilty, or confused.
So if you recognize any of these patterns, just pause and think how it makes you feel.
Do you immediately feel the need to defend yourself or explain?
Do you feel misunderstood or judged?
Do you feel guilty?
Or do you simply read it and think, “Thank you. This makes sense.”
I told myself something once: As a person, I understand that we all have experiences and memories that affect the way we interact with and show up for others — especially our kids. But as a mother, I can never unsee it.
If you find yourself in this confusing and quite honestly painful place — “I love my parents. I love my mom. I miss her terribly. But I cannot have her in my life” — give yourself permission to create space and to uphold your boundaries. They are not there to punish anyone. They are there for you. For your mental peace.
And let’s talk forgiveness for a moment - maybe one day you will have capacity to forgive or maybe not. But don’t turn forgiveness into another “I owe it to her” moment. You don’t owe anyone forgiveness. If it comes, it will be for you.
Because I truly believe they did their best, and I will die on that hill.
They may never have asked what mattered to you, what you liked to do or what you needed in order to feel loved. And maybe that is why you are no longer talking.
Learning to let go or forgive isn’t about excusing what happened. It is about deciding what you want to carry forward.
Has this experience made you a better parent because you learned what it is like to be on the receiving end?
A better partner?
A better version of yourself?
As painful as it is, it is something so many people don’t get to see. You get to break the cycle. You get to choose differently. You get to become the person you needed when you were little.
And maybe that is the silver lining in all of this.
Because now you have the opportunity to take everything you were shown and experienced in life — the good, the bad, the ugly — and do something with it. You have the opportunity to become the person others aspire to be.
I am sorry if you are going through it.
I am also proud of you for creating a better future for yourself, your kids, and your partner.
Cheers!
My mother did not say she loved me until she was 80 years old. Care seemed to get stuck in her throat.
I did not know her as a complicated woman, but I know she believed a man’s value was above mine.
No daughter should have that legacy.
I can’t have her in my life either but. I also don’t love her. At all. Not after what she put me through.