DNA Isn’t a Free Pass to Abuse

When a child cuts off their parents, society clutches its pearls like someone just slapped God in the face.

“You cut off your parents?”
“But they gave you life!”
“That’s so extreme!”

NO.

What’s extreme is growing up in a house where love felt like debt collection. Where affection had terms and conditions. Where “I’m your parent” was less of a comfort and more of a threat.

Nobody wakes up one morning thinking, “You know what would be fun today? Severing ties with the people who raised me.”
That decision isn’t dramatic. It’s survival. It’s years of trying, hoping, swallowing humiliation for breakfast, and getting served shame and emotional blackmail for dinner. You show up again and again, and all you get is silence, scorn, and trauma with a side of gaslighting.

But the moment you finally say, “I’m done”, the world grabs its popcorn.

Now everyone wants context. Now you’re told to “be the bigger person” by people who were never there when you were being emotionally waterboarded on a Sunday morning for leaving one chapati on your plate.

Where were they when the house felt like a war zone?
When love came with expiry dates and scorecards?
When being a “good child” meant shrinking yourself into something more acceptable?

Oh, right, that was “family business,” not yours to question.

But now that the child is choosing peace over DNA, everyone’s suddenly the ambassador of family values?

Here’s what nobody wants to say out loud: some parents are not supposed to be parents. Some are narcissists. Some are emotionally stunted adults who just happened to be fertile. Some should’ve raised houseplants, not humans.

You want to talk about how hard it is to raise a child? Great. Let’s also talk about how soul-crushing it is to be raised by people who treat you like property. Who think parenting means ownership and that their love is a prize you need to earn by being broken in just the right way.

And when the child finally says “enough”, you call them heartless?

No! Heartless is staying in a house that erases you day by day, just so society doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

Sometimes walking away isn’t selfish. Sometimes it’s the first real act of self-respect.

So next time someone says they’re no contact with their parents, don’t be judgmental like a Karen or a Kevin. Maybe, just maybe, use your brain to acknowledge that your reality might be different from someone else’s reality.