Parenting is Not a Retirement Plan: Ten Ways to Connect with Adult Children
I’ve noticed an increasing number of posts on social media about adult children cutting ties with their parents. Often these posts come from parents who are devastated (understandably so) and bewildered by how the estrangement even happened. Rarely do I see posts from the adult children who made the choice to walk away. I’m sure those stories are out there—I just haven’t found many. But my surfing doesn’t count as rigorous research on the subject.
I’m estranged from certain family members myself—not my parents, but someone I love deeply. There are others too, although those relationships feel less significant. Choosing to separate from family is a soul-wounding, core-level decision. But for many, it’s the only way to find autonomy, to heal from unresolved wounds, or to break destructive cycles. The painful truth about estrangement? Both parties are, in part, blind to the wounds of the other. Sometimes irreconcilably so.
My relationship with my own adult children is a priority for me—and very much a skill I’m still learning. Piece by delicate little piece. We’re only a few years into this new phase of our relationship, and as the parent, I’ve already apologized, regrouped, and evolved more than I care to recollect.
I’m also an adult child, blessed to have both my parents still on this side of heaven. If you choose to read the Ruth trilogy, you’ll figure out that my own parent-child relationship hasn't always been easy to reconcile. So my perspective is both as a parent of adult children—and as a child with some problematic childhood memories.
I’m not a psychologist or therapist (though I’ve read a stack of great books and spent many hours in therapy working on the art of trauma healing). But my experiences—as both a daughter and a mother—have given me some perspective on family estrangement. Here are ten thoughts I’ve collected along the way:
1. Care isn’t a debt.
Adult children don’t owe parents “payback” for being fed, clothed, housed and protected. They didn’t ask to be born; someone chose to bring them into the world. Parenting means providing for those basic needs, ideally with emotional safety, too. Starting a conversation with “you owe me” invites a child to list all the times a parent fell short (which, for any parent, is inevitable). Framing the relationship as an obligation is a fast track to losing it.
2. Model the behavior you want.
This one came straight from my therapist. Children don’t remember what you gave them so much as what you showed them. Adult children who choose estrangement often see it as breaking a cycle they watched unfold within the core family unit. Sometimes they are modeling the behaviour of how their parents interacted with their own parents. Sometimes it’s simpler than that—an estranged adult-child may lack complex relationship skills because those skills were not modeled for them as children. Someone (the parent or the child or ideally both) has to do the (hard) work of learning how to nurture healthy relationships. It’s easier to do if they’re still young—but still very much possible once they become adults.
3. Support their education. Prioritize your retirement.
I got this advice from a financial planner. Becoming a parent is not a retirement plan. It might have been in 1932, but the world has changed. The original family unit is no longer the centrifuge it once was. Unless you have a contractual agreement, your child isn’t obligated to provide for you in old age. Sure, if all goes well, they’ll want to be a part of the twilight years (I certainly hope mine will). But gambling the future on that outcome—by over-investing in theirs while neglecting your own—is risky for everyone.
4. Treat them like adults.
Respect their knowledge, skills, and experiences. Be willing to learn from them. Ask questions. Be curious about the way they choose to set up home or organize their schedule. Respect their privacy (especially important in our digital world). Their stories are their stories—not yours to tell. The picture attached to this post? My adult daughter. Yes, I asked her permission.
5. Define expectations early. Ask about theirs.
A parent-child relationship is like any other: people can’t read minds. If you want weekly phone calls or quick proof-of-life texts, say so early in the adult-transition years. Stay flexible with traditions, but if they are important to you, say so. Don’t give the vague “don’t worry about me” line and then resent them for not checking in or showing up. Once life gets busy, they may assume you really don’t want them to worry.
6. Respect their other relationships.
Friendships, partners, peer groups—these matter. Acknowledge and value them. When you dismiss what matters to them because “it isn’t family,” you’re forcing them to choose between you and their chosen tribe. That’s an unfair and uncomfortable choice with no guaranteed outcome.
7. Get to know who they are now.
People change. Once they leave home, they encounter a world that wasn’t shaped by their original guardians, and they process it in their own way. How many things a human being can learn from just one travel adventure or one rocky relationship or one chance encounter! Things only they can interpret through the lense that is their life experience. Everyday that an adult child is away from the umbrella of home is one more day they grow outside of the parental experience. Don’t assume you know someone just because you changed their diapers. Odds are, you don’t.
8. Never lead with “When I die…”
Please—never start a conversation with “When I die” or “At my funeral” as a way to guilt another human into regret or obedience. It’s manipulative, isolating, and taps into old childhood fears. That said, don’t avoid end-of-life planning altogether. Failing to plan for the inevitable is its own burden and a lack of communication on this issue can lead to resentment and stress for the adult-child.
9. Be interested in your own life.
Learn, explore, stay curious. Build friendships and seek adventure in whatever way makes sense to you. It gives you and your adult children something to share and laugh about. It also means you keep growing, just like they do. Much like #3, becoming a parent is not a ticket to a permanent social club made up of core family members.
10. Apologize specifically—and learn.
Skip the dramatic “I was a terrible parent” blanket apology. Be clear and direct. Honor their pain. I’ve had to acknowledge times I caused fear, hurt, or confusion in the early lives of my children—even if it was inadvertent. Apologizing is just the start. The real work is learning from those moments and building healthier ways of relating.
It’s all connected: who we were as children shapes who we become as parents, and the cycle continues.
Childhood is messy and sometimes painful in ways the adult in charge might have overlooked or might have been unable to stop (for whatever reasons). That is the very nature of our humanity. But as our relationships age, they can’t grow in healthy ways if they’re burdened by unspoken expectations, unacknowledged wounds, or rigid roles that no longer serve us.
In the absence of ongoing physical or emotional abuse, I truly believe many unhealthy family cycles can be mended without completely cutting ties if both sides are actively seeking understanding and connection. I also believe that sometimes walking away really is the only option—and that’s heartbreaking for both parent and child.
The greatest threat to the parent–adult child relationship is a one-sided perspective. You cannot dictate how someone else feels about their childhood—or their experience of you as a parent. The truth is, neither side can fully know what the other went through during those early years. The best we can do is ask, listen, and carry the other’s perspective forward with care.
As parents, we have to accept the role we played—or didn’t play—in how our children experienced their world. Denying a child’s memory is denying their personhood. Using your own version of events as a defense invalidates theirs and will only serve to deepen the wound between you. Both realities matter. Your story of parenthood is no more or less true than their story of childhood. They happened side by side. So compare notes—gently. And remember: the parent–child relationship is, at its heart, a long game.
If there’s one more thing I’d add, it’s this: counseling can be an invaluable tool for navigating our own destructive behaviors. Therapy offers a safe place to examine old patterns, question where they came from, and practice new ways of relating. It isn’t about assigning blame, but about understanding ourselves deeply enough to choose different paths. For parents and adult children alike, seeking help isn’t a sign of failure—it’s one of the most committed, loving steps we can take to break harmful cycles and build healthier, more authentic relationships.
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