Erasure of Me in Estrangement
How can they see me like that?
Dear Kathy,
I am having a hard time swallowing the advice given by estrangement professionals that I am supposed to respond to my estranged child’s accusations with an open mind, taking in their viewpoint and not defending myself. To understand them better, and to create an opening to reconnect—I get it. But then I find myself resisting. Strongly!!
Why should I have to give up what I know to be true in order to have contact with my child? And why does it feel like I am disappearing when I try? Why is it so hard to bear feeling misunderstood? Am I afraid the “me” who I know is going to be erased? That the me I hope people will know and remember will be eradicated by my acceptance of my child’s view of this deeply-flawed human me?
— Confused, Angry, and Frightened
A note to the reader: In this column, I will be writing about estrangement dynamics between parent and adult child, but these dynamics also apply to siblings, family members, and friends who are estranged.
Dear Confused,
It is deeply painful to hear how you are being perceived by your adult child. You tried to be the parent you hoped to be, and these accusations feel like an indictment of failure. This view of yourself is uncomfortable—even galling. You don’t want to “swallow” your child’s view, but you also don’t want to be cut off.
Tolerating the weight of your child’s view of you is frequently distasteful and can feel unbearable. I am glad you wrote, because understanding the “why” behind these dueling realities can sometimes make the “how” of responding a little easier.
Individual Perceptions: Why We Remember Differently
To understand why your child’s accusations seem unrecognizable, we have to look at the relative positions you held when these memories were made. Your point of view was as an adult—with fully developed capacities, albeit often exhausted. Your child was recording that same history through the lens of total dependency and a developing brain.
When you are small, your parents are giants. A shadow cast by a giant feels much larger than a shadow cast by a peer. Your child’s earliest memories are often shaped by that original power imbalance.
Furthermore, a four-year-old records experiences with a four-year-old’s mental development. At that age, the prefrontal cortex—the part of the brain that provides logic, nuance, and context—is still under construction. Their memories capture the raw intensity of an emotion or experience without the adult ability to understand why a parent might be frustrated, grieving, or simply tired.
How the Brain “Writes” History
Neuroscience tells us that memory isn’t a vault; it’s a construction site. As neuroscientist Dr. Lisa Genova explains:
“Your memory is not a video camera, recording an objective account of your life. Your brain is a storyteller, and it will edit, omit, and even fabricate details to make the story of your life make sense to you today.”
There are four primary reasons your “maps” of the past don’t match:
Memory is a Reconstruction: We don’t “play back” a tape; we rebuild the event from fragments every time we recall it. If your child is currently in pain, their brain will naturally reach for the fragments that match that hurt.
The Emotional Highlighter: The amygdala (the brain’s fire alarm) acts like a highlighter. If an event causes stress or fear, the brain “burns” it in more deeply. For you, a moment of frustration was a “Rough Water” blip. For a dependent child, it may have been a Tidal Wave of fear.
The Trauma Lock: If your child’s experience included trauma, the brain’s recording process can change. Traumatic memories often remain flash-frozen, isolated from the logic of our adult perspectives. To your child, that moment isn’t the distant past; it is a persistent present.
The Narrative Filter: We all have a Self-Schema—a mental blueprint of who we are. If you see yourself as a Good Provider, you will remember the overtime hours. If your child sees you as Unavailable, they will remember the missed dinners. We prioritize what fits our blueprint and edit what doesn’t.
The Mirror of Failure
In my drawing for this week, the heart on the left looks into a mirror and sees a battered, crumbling version of itself. This is the Identity Distortion of estrangement: the very uncomfortable feeling that comes from having one’s reality contradicted or denied. When this happens, we feel pummeled, torn, defeated, and partially destroyed. Who are we if we are not our memories and the sum of our intentions? It is profoundly disappointing to feel as though you have failed so colossally.
Take, for example, a mother who struggled with her own parent’s restrictive eating habits. She spent her life trying desperately to protect her children from that same fate. Yet, her children now remember her as being restrictive and controlling, especially with food. To her, their memories feel like an erasure of one of her key parenting missions. She is devastated because she is being asked to trade her good intentions, and what she believes she did, for the painful impact her children experienced.
Accepting Your Child’s View Without Losing Yourself
Reconciliation often asks you to allow the “Good Parent” and the “Flawed Parent” to exist in the same context, without one erasing the other. What is the psychological weight training to prepare you for this herculean task? Here is how you might begin to tolerate your child’s view while keeping your self-respect:
Validate Your Own Reality First: Before speaking with your child, repeat your version of reality to yourself. Acknowledge the “North Star” that guided your journey. That effort is real and worth valuing.
Respect the Developmental Gap: Accepting their viewpoint doesn’t mean your memory is “wrong”; it means their experience was different. Accepting their viewpoint is respectful and supportive of what they need to communicate.
Grieve the Ideals of Your Parenting Goals: It is deeply painful to accept your own failure to achieve the parenting you dreamed of. Grieving the loss of that hoped-for outcome is key to moving forward.
Find Your Safe “Mirror”: Lean on your support network. Talking with others who share your challenges helps you see yourself and grow without feeling like you are disappearing.
Practice Compassion for Both of You: Compassion—for your child’s pain and for your own losses and limitations—is the bridge that allows you to feel seen, even when your child cannot see you yet.
So, Dear Confused,
You are feeling spun around by the version of you being reflected back. Know that you are not alone, and your efforts are worth valuing. By writing to me, I can see you are reaching for further growth.
Best wishes as you hold the truth of your own story alongside this new opportunity for connection with your child.
Best,
Kathy
Please connect with me via ksinsheimermft@gmail.com or through the Comments section.
This is column # 33
