‘Twas the Gift of No Contact

Disclaimer: No contact is a term that was coined by adult children who chose to cut off contact with their harmful or abusive parents as a last-resort act of self-preservation. It refers to a decision made by the adult child, not the parent. In recent years, some parents who abdicated their parental duties by abandoning their own children have attempted to co-opt this language. This matters, because abandonment by a parent and no contact are not the same phenomenon, either relationally or ethically. When we talk about no contact here, we are specifically referring to adult children who choose distance from parents they never consented to being in relationship with in the first place. When an adult child walks away from a parent, they are not “abandoning the parent” because children are never the ones who take on the responsibility of commitment in the parent-child relationship. That responsibility belongs to the parent alone. Language matters. Context matters. Power dynamics matter. And conflating these experiences only obscures accountability and silences those who have always held less power in the relationship.

With that clarity in place, let’s talk about what no contact can actually feel like in real life, especially around the holidays. Because when you remove yourself from a parent who harms you instead of helps you, something surprising often happens. Your nervous system exhales. Your shoulders soften. You don’t come home for Christmas. You come home to yourself. And sometimes, amid the grief and complexity, there’s even room for relief…and a little, dare I say it, humor.

Which brings me to this. I had almost as much fun writing it as I do each holiday season now that I’m no contact with my emotionally, financially, and physically abusive parents. Whether you’re on your first or fortieth year of no contact, I hope it brings you some well-deserved levity this holiday season.

‘Twas the Gift of No Contact

‘Twas the holiday season, when all through the home

Not a text was incoming, not even a tone.

The stockings were hung, not with dread but with care

Because this year, no contact spared everyone there.

No bracing for guilt-trips that twist you in knots.

No gifts wrapped in subtext, sharp corners, and plots.

No comments that cut, then insist they’re not real.

No forced forgiveness. No “this is how you must feel.”

No walking on eggshells to manage their moods.

No bigotry brushed off as “just different views.”

No comments on portions or bodies or weight.

No wee ones getting hungry “too soon” or “too late.”

You smiled, maybe laughed, for deep down you knew:

Estrangement’s not sudden. It’s long overdue.

Because no contact, you learned, isn’t bitter or cold.

It’s choosing your peace over the myth you were sold.

Happy No Contact to all, and to all a good night! 🎅🏼

Final Thoughts

As a therapist who works with estranged adult children, and as someone who has gone no contact myself, I understand just how complicated no contact can feel, especially around the holidays. Thankfully, there’s no one “right way” for those of us living the no contact life to feel. If this piece made you chuckle, that doesn’t mean you’re minimizing what you went through. For many survivors of childhood and parental trauma, humor can actually be a welcome sign of healing. And if this season feels too heavy for laughter, that’s not a failure or a setback. It’s information, your body telling the truth about where you are right now. You’re allowed to recover in whatever way is best for you.