Silence: Protective? Aggressive? Both?
Reclaiming Your Voice When They Won't Respond
Dear Kathy,
In my family, we were taught that action yields results. We learned to work hard to get things done, but we never learned the power of not doing—until now.
Our adult son has stopped all contact. He ignores family plans and has even stopped responding to legal documents regarding his inheritance. While others suggest he just needs “space,” to us, this silence feels aggressive.
Looking back, his internal rhythm never quite synced with our fast-paced household. While we were quick to act, he was more measured and reflective. We often grew frustrated when he didn’t move at our tempo. I worry he grew up feeling like a misfit because we didn’t have the words to value his quieter, more deliberate way of being.
Why I say it feels aggressive is that we’ve ended up worried, angry, and helpless. I don’t know if he means for us to feel this way, but we do. Sometimes I want to fight, I am hurt, or I just hope we can talk. Can you help us out of this impasse?
— Paralyzed, Stymied, Sad, and Mad
Dear Paralyzed and Upset,
I, too, have been surprised to learn about the power of inaction. It holds things up, keeps the waiting recipient on standby, derails progress, and shifts the power dynamic. Inaction can be oddly powerful—and deeply hurtful. You had hoped for a congenial interaction and instead have wound up at impasse after impasse. Any move you make to bridge the gap can leave you feeling “dissed” and lonely for him.
It is important to remember that what looks like a power move to you may feel like a protective insulation to him. He may want to be free of that old feeling that he doesn’t fit in or that something is wrong with him. So, he has stepped away.
The “Mac vs. PC” Mismatch
Since you mentioned a mismatch of temperament, this likely applies: As Dr. Becky Kennedy often notes, much of parent-child conflict comes down to trying to use a “Mac manual to operate a PC child.” If your family manual was “Quick Action = Value,” your son was a PC in a Mac world. He spent years trying to fit in—to be more like you—but running that software crashed his system. His current silence isn’t an operating system problem; it’s him finally uninstalling the programs that didn’t fit who he is.
Why It Makes You Feel “Crazy”
There is a biological reason you feel “stymied.” Dr. Kip Williams, a researcher on ostracism, explains that silence triggers a “Reflexive Cognitive Search.” Because there is no data in silence, your brain loops indefinitely trying to grasp a reason for the void. This consumes mental energy. Your brain is ‘screaming’ because it is wired for reciprocity, but it is currently trapped in the echoing of your own thoughts. The true power of inaction is that it leaves no “hooks.” When someone yells, you can respond. When they make a demand, you can negotiate. But when they do nothing, there is nothing to catch. You find yourself searching for footing on ground that has no traction. You are Velcro without the sticky side, a hook without the eye, a clasp without a catch.
The “Gagged” Sensation
When you aren’t able to share your side or even communicate, you may wind up feeling gagged—like there is tape over your mouth. You are left with a mouthful of unsaid words and a throat that feels tight with the strain of holding back. Feeling silenced is one of the most uncomfortable positions a human being can occupy.
Finding the Hooks Within
If there are no connectors currently available with your child, look for the hooks within yourself. Finding your footing requires building a new “mental schema,” a new way of perceiving a behavior that is fundamentally alien to you.
This is grief work. It requires acknowledging the hole in your heart and beginning to mend it by yourself with your own tools: journaling, centering, and seeking support. It means learning to hold your child in your heart while accepting the painful reality that, for now, they are choosing to live their life separately from yours.
Finding Your Footing
How do you move when the other person won’t move with you?
Regulate Your Own System: Take the time to slow yourself down. This offers you an opportunity for self-care and space to begin to reflect. Frantic outreach only reinforces his need for insulation. Your goal is to move from the “Tidal Wave” of panic toward a “Calmer Sea.”
Counter Silence with Your Own Voice: Give voice to your own words. Write in your journal or talk to trusted friends. Create a collage or other art piece. Self-expression is key for you to stabilize.
Perform a Communication Audit: Look back at your last exchanges. Did you respond with curiosity or judgment? Be prepared to offer a clean apology for specific moments where you didn’t “get” him.
Validate His Reality: Many children leave because they didn’t feel heard. If the opportunity arises, request a chance to listen better and differently in order to take in what he was telling you.
The Mac/PC Admission: Tell him: “I’ve been wondering if I spent your childhood trying to use a Mac manual to understand a PC child. I see now that I may have missed who you actually were, and that couldn’t have felt good.”
Scout for New Data: Ask old teachers, coaches, or family friends how they saw him. They might offer insight into how you may not have seen or valued your child’s strengths.
Respect the Silence: For now, respect his choice. It is a communication of impasse. Use this time to soften within yourself. Perhaps memories will emerge of difficult times that deserve your apology or curiosity if and when communication resumes.
________________________________
So, Dear Paralyzed and Hurt,
As you can see in the drawing, there are at least three possibilities: The largest circle is the Silence your loved one has chosen. They are choosing it over the fighting (upper right) or the constructive arguing (lower left).
You are in that center circle now. It is lonely, and leaves a hole in your heart that you must reluctantly begin to mend on your own. My wish for you is that you give yourself opportunities for self-expression while creating space in your mind to value your child’s experiences and differences. This will help you hold him lovingly in your mind, and possibly—just possibly—open a space for a new kind of connection.
If and when the opportunity arises, it is time to show him that you have become ready to stand still with him.
Best,
Kathy
Please contact me at Ksinsheimermft@gmail.com or in the Comments section.
This is column # 35




This article has critical insights for us estranged parents. THANK YOU.
Anaïs Nin wrote, "We don’t see things as they are; we see them as we are."
All of us interpret reality through our own particular, psychological and physiological lenses, created from our unique genetics and experiences, and resulting biases. We see what happens and what others do through these lenses (and biases). And though our lenses help us make sense of the world, they also blind us to how others interpret reality.
To understanda others, I must purposefully (and admittedly with much difficulty) try to suspend my own lenses, knowing that I know little of others'. Admitting to myself (and others) the limits of what I know helps me better understand others' realities.
Ouch ouch ouch. Thank you for the guidance. I have a “no-contact” daughter. My heart is broken.