I’m no contact with my dad. My mum died when I was two, and he was the only parent I had left. He was a grandiose narc, emotionally abusive, and never once showed accountability or genuine care.
For a long time I kept trying, because that’s what children do, we’re wired to want connection with our parents, even when the relationship is damaging. That’s trauma bonding, not loyalty.
The turning point for me was realising that staying in contact was causing me more harm than leaving. My final interaction with him, especially around my brother’s death and the way he handled it, made everything painfully clear. I could finally see him as he really was, not as I wished he could be.
That doesn’t mean I don’t think about him. I do, every day. Estrangement doesn’t switch off the attachment system. It just means I chose my safety and sanity over a relationship that kept hurting me.
People go no‑contact for all kinds of reasons, but repair only works if both people are willing to do the work. And sometimes the harm is overwhelmingly on one side. In a parent–child relationship, there’s a huge power imbalance. The parent sets the emotional tone. The parent is responsible for safety. When that parent is the source of harm, the child, even as an adult, is left carrying all the emotional weight.
I also don’t believe “blood is thicker than water”. You don’t get to choose your family, and sometimes you’re unlucky. I know I was. Becoming a mum made the decision even clearer: I wasn’t going to let my children be exposed to the chaos and emotional instability I grew up with.
So yes, going no‑contact is complex, layered, and often heartbreaking. It’s not done lightly. It’s not done out of spite. It’s done because someone finally realised they deserved peace, and that staying connected to the person who hurt them was costing too much.