When the Distance Grows: Navigating Estrangement Through the Lens of Anxious Attachment

When an adult child begins to pull away, especially without explanation, it can leave a parent gasping for answers.
And if you’re a parent with an anxious attachment style, the silence doesn’t just feel like absence—it feels like rejection.
Like failure. Like confirmation of every fear you’ve ever carried about not being enough.

You re-read old messages. You second-guess past conversations. You wonder, What did I miss? What did I do? Why won’t they let me in anymore?

Here’s the complicated truth: estrangement often isn’t about one moment.
It’s a buildup.
Of hurts that were never named.
Of expectations that went unspoken.
Of both sides trying to love, but loving from their own wounds.

Anxious attachment doesn’t just live in parents—it lives in adult children too.

Sometimes, the child who pulls away isn’t rejecting you.
They’re protecting themselves.

They’ve learned closeness can feel suffocating. That expressing their needs might get met with guilt or shutdown.
That they must build distance to feel safe—even if it breaks their own heart to do it.

And sometimes, the parent who reaches out isn’t overstepping.
They’re trying to stay connected.
Trying to understand.
Trying to love in the only way they know how—through closeness, through fixing, through showing up even when they’re unsure if they’re welcome.

It’s tender territory. And so often, both sides are hurting.

So what can you do, when you long for repair but the space feels so wide?

Start by noticing your own story.
Ask yourself gently:

• Am I reaching out to connect… or to relieve my own anxiety?
• Am I open to who they are now… or holding on to who they used to be?
• Can I offer love without demanding immediate closeness?

And if you’re the one who’s pulled away:

• Can you hold compassion for your own need for space?
• Can you name what hurts without needing them to fully understand it?
• Can you make room for repair—even if it takes time?

Estrangement is never easy. But it’s also not the end of the story.

Sometimes, healing begins not with a big talk or a sudden fix—but with a small shift:

• A pause instead of a push.
• A boundary that’s honored, not resented.
• A willingness to hold the complexity of two truths at once:
  I miss you.
  And I need space.

Love doesn’t always look like daily contact or easy connection.
Sometimes it looks like patience.
Sometimes it looks like not writing the ending before both people are ready.
And sometimes—it looks like letting the silence be what it is… without making it mean you’ve failed.

Warmly,
Molly A. Summers, P.C.C.
Life Coach & Author

Thank you for spending this time with me inside The Attachment Style Journal.
I hope these words remind you that your attachment style is not your whole story — and you don’t have to navigate change alone.

If you’d like more gentle support, my virtual coaching and self-guided book are here for you anytime.

Schedule your free call or explore my books at coachingwithmollysummers.com.