The Perception of Estrangement
We cannot fault the older generations for viewing what is ‘normal’ based on what they grew up with alone, but we can–and should–question their ability to adapt.
Everyone has a right to an opinion; whether we consider it good or bad is highly subjective. It is hard to imagine that anyone who has become estranged from a loved one found the process easy, let alone enjoyed it. I certainly haven’t. But my parents earnestly believe this has been as easy for me as tossing them to the sidelines. How we diverged so dramatically is a thought experiment we will never agree on. They raised me for most of my life, after all. Indeed, something they taught me about being a good human would have stuck, right?
But that’s the funny thing about perspective. Much like the concept of the multiverse, each person exists in their sense of reality. My parents were born in the 1950s’ and I was born at the turn of the 21st century. This means they were already in their 40s’ when I came into their life–and yes, they are part of the baby boomers. Keeping to themselves most of the time, it was a rare moment of joy when I’d hear stories from their youth, like my father trekking through Europe and finding himself settling in India for a few years. My mother was always more quiet about her past. Most of the stories I know of her came from other family members, like how she once opened a clothing store or would vigorously try to sweep sand out of her Floridian bungalow she once had with my dad.
You can’t divorce estrangement from understanding how society has changed throughout the centuries. Take the Constitution, for example. On one end of the spectrum are the traditionalists who believe in a literal interpretation of the Constitution, albeit written in the 1800s, and on the other end, those who think it should inform, not dictate, current policy. What is a genuine government issue also becomes a philosophical one. No one would argue the document serves as a testament to the brightest minds of the time, but that time flowed with patriarchal and imperialistic ambition. In our modern landscape, gender equality and efforts to give back rightful ownership and recognition of Indigenous people exist. People have demonstrated they can change and adapt to new circumstances as they arise. How else would the golden renaissance or industrial revolution be achieved? Why is it that when it comes to a complex family dynamic, we cannot understand that societal norms can change and, with it–people too?
A common question of reassurance is whether or not someone would recommend something to a family member. Hearing this type of confirmation or denial speaks to us because it comes from a place of trust in the familial bond and the idea that we only want to do right by our families. And in most cases, it is true. But blood is not always thicker than water, and children are not inherently their parents’ children. Acknowledging this truth is painful as it means recognizing that the value of family no longer aligns with a mentality older generations only view as ‘normal.’ We cannot fault them for that alone. But we can question their ability to adapt.
I remember sitting in the kitchen one day, acutely aware of my surroundings but not feeling there. It felt like a fire could have erupted from the stove, except I would stay frozen, forced to watch it engulf the room around me. This moment of dissociation was in the middle of a row with my mother. In that state, I could barely get any words. With significant force and courage, I managed to stutter that my current state was a trauma response in a reply. Looking back, I was proud then and still proud that I could speak for myself. But my mother’s quick reply hit me like a punch in the throat, “Trauma? You’ve never experienced trauma.” To her credit, I probably haven’t in her limited view of trauma: think a veteran who served in a warzone, a survivor of a natural disaster who lost their home and family, or a child who has been a victim of severe physical or sexual abuse. Bonus points if the coverage makes the headlines as the most apparent cases of human misfortune.
Although she likely won’t admit it, she grew up with an alcoholic father and a mother who tried her best to turn the other cheek. Life sometimes got the better of them, and I feel as though she learned to confuse tough love with abuse. No one is perfect. To think otherwise is simply unrealistic. But no matter how fine the line is between being a ‘good-enough’ parent and exhibiting truly abusive behavior, I believe one has to exist. However, one critic of estrangement, psychologist Joshua Coleman, Ph.D, as quoted in an article for the New Yorker, thinks estrangement is influenced by “changing notions of what constitutes harmful, abusive, traumatizing, or neglectful behavior”(Why So Many People Are Going “No Contact” With Their Parents, 2024).
To older generations, we are too soft to face the hardships they endured. Instead of celebrating that we want better and will no longer tolerate behavior that hurts us, people like my parents and Dr. Coleman can only see it as a missed opportunity for us to demonstrate our strength and perseverance. But maybe, despite how skewed it seems, they view our inability to pull ourselves by the bootstraps as a profound failure to prepare us for living in the world as they understand it. The idea that adversity builds character is not a new phenomenon. After all, it is often a college essay choice to write about an experience where you faced an obstacle or setback but overcame it. But at what cost will we build character? As I once wrote in a poem to my parents, you never meant to hurt me, and yet you did.
But I’m still here. Even if my parents refuse to see my perspective, the essence of the child they raised is still evident in how I choose my relationships, pursue social causes, and love my chosen family.
