Is family estrangement becoming a trend in modern society?

Author Keith Miller tells of an outgoing 40-year-old woman who was part of a sharing group he led. Here is her story:

“When I was a tiny little girl, my parents died and I was put in an orphanage. I was not pretty at all and no one seemed to want me. But I longed to be adopted and loved by a family as far back as I can remember. I thought about it day and night, but everything I did seemed to go wrong. I must have tried too hard to please the people who came to look me over and what I did was to drive them away.

“But then one day the head of the orphanage told me that a family was coming to take me home with them. I was so excited that I jumped up and down and cried like a little baby. The matron reminded me that I was on trial and this might not be a permanent arrangement, but I just knew that somehow it would work out.

“So I went with this family and started to school. I was the happiest little girl you can imagine, and life began to open up for me just a little. But then one day a few months later, I skipped home from school and ran into the front door of the big old house we lived in. No one was at home, but in the middle of the front hall was my battered suitcase with my little coat thrown across it. As I stood there it suddenly dawned on me what it meant — I didn’t belong there anymore.”

Miller reports that when the woman stopped speaking there was hardly a dry eye in the group. But then she cleared her throat and said almost matter-of-factly, “This happened to me seven times before I was 13 years old. But wait, don’t feel too badly. It was experiences like these that ultimately brought me to God — and there I found what I had always longed for — a place, a sense of belonging, a forever family.”

The hurt and pain of experiencing such rejection from families is almost unimaginable, but a tragic reality in 2026 is that estrangement in biological families are increasing.

For many, the idea of a “forever family” is being dismantled by a persistent wave of disconnection. While the term “trend” is often applied to fleeting cultural fashions, the data emerging in the mid-2020s suggests a structural shift in how we define the obligations of kinship. Research conducted by sociologists like Karl Pillemer indicates that roughly 27 percent of American adults — approximately 67 million people — are currently estranged from a family member. More recent polling from 2025 and 2026 suggests this figure may now be climbing toward 38 percent, signaling that the “suitcases in the hall” are becoming a more common, if metaphorical, fixture of the American home.

A shift in cultural values
This rise in estrangement is largely driven by a fundamental change in the moral framework of the family. Traditionally, family ties were governed by the principle of “honor thy father and mother,” an unconditional bond that superseded personal grievances. However, experts like psychologist Joshua Coleman observe that we have entered an era of “identitarian” or therapeutic relationships. In this setting, adult children often view relationships through the lens of personal growth and mental health. If a relationship — any relationship — is perceived to detract from one’s well-being, it is increasingly seen as optional rather than mandatory.

The drivers of these rifts are multifaceted. While traditional catalysts like physical abuse, neglect, and the lingering resentments of childhood divorce remain prevalent, new stressors have surfaced. A sharp rise in political polarization and conflicting lifestyle values has created ideological chasms so wide that many families are increasingly unwilling to attempt bridging. Furthermore, the “parenting lens” has shifted; adult children now frequently use therapeutic language to re-evaluate their upbringings, labeling certain historical behaviors as “toxic” or “boundary-breaking” in ways that previous generations might have simply accepted as “strict” or “difficult.”

This collapse of the family structure doesn’t end with parents; it often strains the bond between brothers and sisters to a breaking point. When one child decides to cut off a parent, the siblings who remain in contact are often caught in a painful crossfire. They are frequently pressured to choose sides, where continuing a relationship with the parents is seen as taking the side of an “abuser,” while walking away is viewed as a betrayal of the family unit. This tension creates a second, horizontal rift that can be just as deep as the primary one with the parents.

Many siblings also choose to leave to escape roles they were forced into decades ago. An adult who grew up as the family “scapegoat” often finds little reason to keep playing that part for a “golden child” sibling who benefited from the favoritism. Without a living parent to mandate that everyone “gets along” during holidays, long-standing resentments over caregiving burdens or inheritance become the final catalyst to stop speaking. Today, a sibling’s political or moral views are no longer treated as simple disagreements; they are often viewed as fundamental character flaws that make the relationship feel like a liability rather than a support system.

The anatomy of the break
In the majority of these cases, it is the adult children who initiate the separation. They often describe the move as a protective measure, a necessary step to find the “sense of belonging” or internal peace that was missing within the original family unit. Yet, despite the finality that often accompanies the initial break, the data reveals a complex long-term reality. Longitudinal studies show that these silences are rarely permanent; approximately 81 percent of mother-child rifts and 69 percent of father-child estrangements eventually lead to some form of reconciliation later in life.

The increase in these fractures suggests that we are witnessing a renegotiation of the “family bond.” As the definitions of loyalty and health continue to change, the search for a place where one truly belongs is moving away from the biological and toward the intentional, leaving millions to navigate the empty spaces where family once stood.

Scotty