Every family has a story about what happened.
Within that family, people remember the same relationship differently. A parent may remember the sacrifices they made. An adult child may remember what they needed and did not receive. A sibling who stood outside the conflict may see parts of the story that neither person could see. Each perspective can contain truth, even when those truths do not completely align.
Over the past several months, my social media feed has been filled with stories of family estrangement. Adult children explain why they went no contact with their parents. Parents grieve relationships they no longer have. Therapists discuss boundaries, healing, and emotional safety.
These conversations matter. Some people have experienced genuine harm within their families. Some relationships require distance. In some situations, stepping away is the healthiest choice someone can make.
But as I read these stories, I keep thinking about something else: the stories we tell about family estrangement, and whether we have become too quick to believe one perspective can explain an entire relationship.
Everyone Has a Story
Human beings naturally look for explanations when something hurts. We want to understand what happened, who was responsible, and how we should make sense of the pain. A clear narrative gives us something to hold onto. It helps organize experiences that may have felt confusing for years.
Social media is particularly good at creating those narratives. Someone shares their experience, explains the hurt they endured, describes the boundary they established, and shares the peace they found afterward. People respond with support, encouragement, and sometimes certainty about what happened.
There is something valuable in that response. Many people have spent years questioning their own experiences. Finding language for unhealthy patterns, recognizing harmful dynamics, and learning that boundaries exist can be life-changing. No one should have to remain in a relationship that causes ongoing harm simply because there is a family connection.
But there is a difference between being heard and having the complete story.
Validation Is Not the Whole Story
Validation can be an important part of healing. It allows people to acknowledge their experiences and stop minimizing their own pain. Still, validation cannot tell us everything about a relationship because relationships are never experienced from only one side.
The same event can be remembered differently by the people who lived through it. A parent may remember sacrifice while a child remembers what was missing. One person may remember trying their best while another remembers where those efforts fell short. Both experiences can exist at the same time.
That is where family relationships become difficult. We often want truth to work like a courtroom. We want evidence, a verdict, and someone clearly responsible for what went wrong.
Families are not courtrooms.
They are living systems made up of imperfect people carrying their own histories, wounds, expectations, and limitations. This does not mean everyone is equally responsible. It does not mean every relationship can or should be repaired. Complexity can exist even when accountability exists.
Harm and Disappointment Are Not the Same
One question I find myself asking is whether we have become less willing to tolerate the ordinary disappointments that come with loving imperfect people. There is a significant difference between a relationship that is harmful and a relationship that is disappointing. Harm requires protection. Disappointment requires discernment.
Every relationship eventually reveals the places where another person falls short. A parent will not always respond the way a child hoped. A sibling may not understand a perspective that feels obvious to us. A partner may not always know how to show up in exactly the way we need.
That is part of being human.
Somewhere along the way, we have become less comfortable distinguishing between what we truly need and what we deeply want. We need safety, respect, and honesty. We need freedom from abuse and ongoing harm.
At the same time, we want to be understood. Our experiences need acknowledgment. We want the people we love to see situations the way we see them. Those desires are deeply human, but another person’s inability to meet every one of them does not automatically make the relationship unhealthy.
A person can disappoint us without intentionally harming us. Someone can love us and still have significant limitations. Even when a person fails us in one area, they may still matter in our lives.
Healthy relationships are not built because people never hurt each other. They are built because people are willing to acknowledge hurt, take responsibility, and decide what happens next.
What We Don’t Know
The part of this conversation that concerns me most is how quickly curiosity disappears. We hear someone’s pain, and we immediately decide what happened. One person’s experience becomes the explanation for the entire relationship.
Usually, we do not know the full history.
Behind closed doors, countless conversations may have taken place that we never heard. There may have been attempts at repair that never worked. Earlier wounds may have shaped the relationship long before anyone reached the final breaking point. Each person may also have carried experiences into the relationship that the other never fully understood.
This is not an argument for dismissing someone’s pain. It is an invitation to remain humble. The question is not whether someone has the right to feel hurt. They do. The question is whether we can acknowledge another person’s humanity while still honoring our own experience.
A person can be hurt and still have something to learn. Someone can cause harm and still have wounds of their own. Distance can be necessary even when love remains.
More than one thing can be true.
Boundaries Are Not Certainty
Boundaries are an important part of healthy relationships. They help us understand what we will accept, what we cannot accept, and what we need in order to move forward. But boundaries and certainty are not the same thing.
A boundary says, “This relationship, as it exists, is not healthy for me.” Certainty says, “I understand everything about this person, their intentions, and their entire story.”
One creates space for healing. The other closes the door on understanding.
The goal of understanding another person’s perspective is not always reconciliation. A relationship may never return to what it once was. Distance may be necessary for someone to heal and move forward.
But understanding still matters.
It allows us to move forward without needing to make another person completely wrong in order for our own pain to be valid.
Compassion Without Reconciliation
Family estrangement is painful because there is rarely a clean ending. Usually, no moment exists when everyone agrees on what happened or where responsibility belongs. There are memories, regrets, things people wish they had said, and things they wish they had done differently.
Some people feel abandoned. Others feel freed. Still others feel both.
Perhaps the next conversation about family estrangement needs less certainty and more compassion. Not compassion that excuses harm. Not compassion that demands reconciliation. Compassion that allows us to recognize the humanity of everyone involved.
Every family has a story.
The question is not whether the story is true.
The question is whether we are humble enough to admit it may not be the whole story.
You Were Guided Here for a Reason
Work With Colleen Irwin
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