Should You Go No Contact With 

Your Emotionally Immature Parent?

There it was, in my text messages:

“You are a narcissistic little cunt.”

I was getting ready for work, and there it was. I felt like someone had broken into my house and thrown a grenade inside. The text message came from my step-father, who had been stalking me online and discovered my blog after I went no contact. 

Even though the article I had written was about my mom and bio dad growing up (not about him), he was obviously furious and decided to message me the most hurtful thing he could possibly think of.

Needless to say, work was pretty rough that day, and I was seriously off my game. I went home, and tried to disentangle everything I was feeling: pain, sadness, rage and betrayal. 

I received this text message a few months after I had gone no contact with my mother and step-father. This was about seven months after I sent my mother a letter stating that I no longer wished to have any in-person contact or any communications with them via phone, email, or text.

The wounds were fresh on both sides. I was tired of letting my mother pretend that my childhood trauma was a figment of my imagination. They were pissed about me cutting the cord and probably assumed it wouldn’t last. 

Going no contact with one or both of your parents is an extremely personal decision that no one else in this world can make for you. If a therapist, counselor, coach, friend or anyone else tells you that you need to go no contact, you need to give some serious thought about their motivations. 

I came to the decision all on my own, after several years in therapy, and many attempts to modify my behavior and manage my parents’. 

All attempts failed, and I kept feeling worse and worse. In the end, it was so awkward being around them it was almost like trying to make conversation with complete strangers. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. 

I told my therapist I didn’t think I wanted my mother in my life anymore, and she talked me through what no contact is, and how to initiate it. 

I spent about three months weighing the decision before I finally decided to pull the trigger, and sent my No Contact letter. I wrote a first draft, edited it, and softened it a bit. 

In the end, it was very direct, and pretty brutal. It contains the kinds of things that can never, ever be unsaid. But it was straight from my heart, and I meant every single word. 

Talking to a (good) therapist before you go no contact allows you to really examine the situation from many different angles, and lets you fully express any fears and concerns you have before you are in the situation. 

Gathering support before going no contact is extremely important. You will benefit from having a team of people holding you up before, during and after the process of going no contact. 

Your friends may be shocked, but you’ll soon find out if they are really on your team when you share this part of your life with them. Real friends will stick with you, even if they think it’s shocking or can’t really relate to your decision.

You should also consider some practical matters before you go no contact, such as gathering family medical history, your birth certificate, or sorting out any other legal or financial ties you may have to your birth givers. 

You don’t want to go no contact, and then realize you need to reach out to ask for paperwork, information, or signatures. Make sure you set yourself up for a clean break by getting your ducks in a row before you take action to disconnect.

Another aspect of No Contact that you may already be dreading is backlash from your family. This is a real thing, and I wouldn’t be doing you any favors if I glossed over this part. 

There is a real chance that people in your life will be pissed. This could be the parent you’re disconnecting from, their spouse, other family members, friends of the family, or anyone else who might feel the need to stand up and defend the person who is being cut off. 

I’ve seen siblings go separate ways and parents trash-talking their children to other family members. You will need to stand firm behind your decision, no matter what the consequences are. This means being crystal-clear about WHY you’re going no contact, and also owning the decision fully, without explaining or justifying it after the fact.

That is truly the hardest part. You need to prepare for the feeling of standing on a stage, affirming something that’s wildly unpopular, and being ok with people throwing tomatoes (or insults) at you. This does NOT mean that you should stand idly by while people get aggressive with you, but it does mean that you will not retaliate with anything other than steadfast silence.

In a nutshell, this is why you need to gather a strong support group before you go no contact. You will need to vent, you will need to process what you’re feeling, you will need people you can reach out to if you get a nasty text message, or flowers (I have gotten both). 

You may feel extremely weird, like you’re defying society or the laws of nature. This feeling goes way, way back to caveman times when we had to hunt and gather, and stick together for survival, and you could literally die of hunger, thirst or hypothermia without your tribe. 

Even though we no longer live in that world, the human need to stick with family runs deep. Thousands of years deep. This feeling of doing something extremely wrong or unnatural goes away in time, and is often replaced by a profound sense of freedom, lightness and liberation.

Once you have considered all the gory details of going no contact with a therapist, taken the time to fully weigh your decision, untangled any legal and financial ties, and gathered your support group, it’s time to do the damn thing. Only you can know if and when it’s right for you.

I think a letter is a practical and expressive way to cut the cord. You can say what you need to say, and there’s no room for anyone to interrupt you or argue with you.

For me, my relationship with my mom felt like a wet, moldy blanket over the fire of my life force, dreams and desires. It felt constantly heavy, yucky and like it was snuffing out my enthusiasm for life, and most of all, my love for myself. 

It may feel differently for you, but you will know for sure, one way or the other, in your gut, if it’s really time to cut the cord.

Even though this all sounds extremely tedious, gut-wrenching and uncomfortable, going no contact was hands-down the best thing I have ever done for myself. I am happier, more present, more confident, more successful and more relaxed than I ever was before going no contact. 

If you would like to have a private conversation about your situation, wherever you are in the process, you are invited to book a session with me below.