Colman Noctor: 'Keeping the peace' in the family shouldn't mean ignoring concerns

When we teach children about personal safety, we must recognise that the people who pose risks are not always unfamiliar or frightening, says Colman Noctor. 

In a recent conversation with some psychotherapy colleagues, the small group generally agreed that family estrangement was more common than ever.

There was a collective concern that cutting people out of our lives is increasingly seen as a legitimate way to handle difficult relationships. I wondered whether social media is influencing this, as my feed is awash with advice urging us to protect our peace, set boundaries, and remove toxic people from our lives.

While some of this advice is valuable, particularly for those who have experienced genuinely harmful or abusive relationships, there is always a risk that we apply the language of serious psychological harm to ordinary interpersonal difficulties.

Not every difficult relative is toxic. Not every disagreement violates our boundaries. And not every uncomfortable relationship needs to end.

Families are imperfect systems with different personalities, values, and expectations. Relationships inevitably involve disappointment, frustration, and compromise. Sometimes people say hurtful things, misunderstand our intentions or fall short of our expectations.

If we respond to every difficulty with withdrawal or excommunication, we risk losing our capacity for tolerance, forgiveness, and repairing relationships. When children are involved, the consequences of these decisions extend beyond the adults who make them.

I have spoken to many children whose parents have become estranged from their own parents or siblings, and, as a result, the children are mourning the lost relationships with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, who had previously provided affection and belonging.

Of course, not every extended family relationship is positive, and children should never be expected to maintain contact with someone simply because they are related. But where relationships are safe and loving, removing them from children’s lives due to adult disagreements can have an impact.

Equally, it is worth noting that what appears to be a minor disagreement from the outside may be the final straw in a long history of emotional manipulation, intimidation or repeated boundary violations. So we should be cautious about judging someone else’s decision to withdraw from a relationship without understanding what preceded it.

Throughout my clinical career, I have encountered family relationships that have broken down because of misunderstandings, unresolved grievances, and poor communication. Sometimes the original disagreement became almost irrelevant as pride, resentment, and years of silence made reconciliation increasingly difficult.

Children often inherit adult conflicts they neither created nor fully understand. I think we need to be careful about normalising estrangement as a form of emotional self-care without also recognising its potential cost.

However, there is another side to this discussion, which I have also repeatedly encountered in my clinical work.

Sometimes people distance themselves or their children from a family member, not as an overreaction, but as an essential protective measure.

Meghan Markle has publicly explained that her decision to prevent contact between her father and her children was motivated by concerns for their safety following allegations brought to her attention several years ago. Those allegations have been denied and remain unproven. Whatever the eventual outcome, the controversy illustrates how little outsiders may know about the circumstances behind a family estrangement.

We frequently hear expressions such as “blood is thicker than water” or “he’s still your father”. These sentiments reflect the importance of family connections, but they can also create expectations of unconditional loyalty, which is unhelpful and unwise.

Imagine a parent whose child expresses discomfort about spending time with a relative. Perhaps something inappropriate has been said or done, prompting concerns about someone the family has trusted for decades. Acting on those concerns may mean confronting a parent, sibling, or partner who has supported you through difficult times, or whom you have always regarded as fundamentally good.

Reconciling these two versions of the same person is incredibly difficult. The loving father, trusted uncle, or funny older cousin is suddenly someone whose behaviour is under scrutiny.

And what if you are wrong?

In clinical practice, I have seen this conflict leave people paralysed by uncertainty. They may recognise that something is wrong while desperately seeking reasons to believe their concerns are mistaken.

Psychologically, this is known as ‘cognitive dissonance’. We want to believe the people we love are good, trust our judgement, and preserve our understanding of our family. But when information challenges these beliefs, minimising our concerns can feel easier than confronting them.

But understanding why denial occurs does not excuse its consequences. These psychological conflicts are among the factors that can contribute to abuse remaining undisclosed or unchallenged.

When we teach children about personal safety, we must recognise that the people who pose risks are not always unfamiliar or frightening. They can also be people we know, trust and love.

So what should parents do when they become concerned?

Firstly, we need to distinguish between ordinary discomfort and genuine safeguarding concerns.

A child disliking a relative, refusing a hug, or finding someone irritating does not automatically indicate abuse. However, their feelings should always be listened to, and their refusal of physical affection respected.

However, a disclosure of inappropriate behaviour, whether physical or emotional, or of reasonable grounds to suspect harm must be taken very seriously.

Parents should listen calmly, avoid dismissing what a child says, and reassure them that they have done nothing wrong.

They should also avoid repeatedly questioning children or attempting to investigate concerns themselves, as this is best left to appropriately trained professionals.

In Ireland, parents can contact Tusla, the child and family agency, if they have reasonable grounds to suspect abuse. They do not need proof before reporting, and Tusla can assess the information and advise on appropriate safeguarding measures.

Suspected criminal abuse can also be reported to An Garda Síochána.

Importantly, protecting a child does not require a parent to have resolved every uncertainty or established someone’s guilt. Their concerns should be professionally assessed, and while fairness and due process are essential, a child’s safety should not depend on adults first attaining absolute certainty.

One of the most troubling dynamics I have observed in my clinical practice is the pressure from other family members placed on those who raise concerns. They may be accused of overreacting, causing trouble, or trying to ‘destroy the family’. I have seen many times where the person trying to protect a child becomes the focus of the family’s anger rather than the person whose behaviour has prompted the concern.

This places the parent in an extraordinarily difficult position, torn between protecting a child and maintaining family relationships.

Yet those responsibilities should never carry equal weight.

While family loyalty is important, it cannot take priority over any child’s safety.

In these circumstances, we must reconsider our earlier assumptions about the benefits of reconciliation.

Stories of families overcoming disagreements and reconnecting after years apart are rightly celebrated. But reconciliation should never be pursued at the expense of a child’s safety, and keeping the peace should never become an excuse for ignoring legitimate concerns.

Children learn about relationships from what adults demonstrate. When we model compromise, forgiveness, and repair, we teach them that relationships are worth working through. But when we prioritise keeping the peace over addressing legitimate concerns, we risk teaching them that preserving relationships matters more than their safety.

The major parenting challenge is recognising when a relationship requires patience and when it needs protection.

Ultimately, the measure of a healthy family is not whether everyone stays together, but whether the relationships within it are safe.

While we should never be too quick to abandon the people we love simply because relationships become difficult, we should also never allow loyalty to blind us to circumstances where estrangement is necessary for safety.

See: tusla.ie/children-first/parents-and-guardians/how-do-i-report-a-concern-about-a-child/ for details on how to report concerns.