This month, our Advice Columnist answers a question about running into estranged relatives out in the world or at a family member’s home, and how to prepare for those encounters.
Q: What to do if you unexpectedly run into them at a grocery store or family member’s home? What to say, what to do? My mom frequents my grandmother’s house and I take my grandmother groceries weekly. Hoping to never run into my mother at my grandmother’s house but want to be prepared if I do.
A: Hello, anonymous friend!
Thank you so much for your excellent question.
When we talk about estrangement, we often frame it as a binary — that we are either in relationship with somebody, or we’re not. And if we’re not, that means we don’t have to see them, speak to them, or interact in any way.
We get to triumphantly ride off into the sunset on our joyful rainbow unicorn (or flee into the night with a duffle bag and a one-way bus ticket out of state), and never look back.
But in practice, the world is rarely so binary.
Even if you want a no-contact estrangement (rather than one of the many forms of intentionally low-contact estrangements and relationships a person might choose), the fact is, that’s usually not entirely within your control.
After all, in most cases, the person you’re estranged from has the same right to get groceries/go to the movies/exist in public spaces as you do.
And in family spaces, hosts or event-organizers may choose not to ‘pick sides’ or ‘get in the middle,’ or may even hope to encourage a reconciliation by putting estranged relatives in the room together.
But before we get into your specific situation, I want to take a step back and quickly offer a framework for the rest of this discussion.
Let’s say, when I go grocery shopping, there are three things I never put on my list — peppers, peanuts, and poison.
I don’t buy peppers because I really, really don’t like peppers. If someone served me a dish with peppers in it, I could eat it without doing myself any real harm, but it would ruin the dish for me.
I don’t buy peanuts because they trigger my migraines. If someone served me a dish with peanuts in it, it wouldn’t kill me — I could endure it if I absolutely had to — but it would be harmful and painful in a way I shouldn’t have to subject myself to, even if I would recover.
I don’t buy poison because … well, it’s poison. At minimum, it would injure me, in a lingering or permanent way. If someone served me food with poison in it, that would be a horrid thing to do, and I certainly wouldn’t eat it.
So when I’m deciding whether to go to a place or event where an estranged relative might also be, I like to rate it on my mental ‘peppers-peanuts-poison’ scale. I ask myself ‘if I run into this person, how do I think it will affect me? Will I have a temporary bad time, or will I come away from this injured? If so, how badly injured? And is that injury worth it to me?’
Of course, this doesn’t mean I would choose to be in any of these situations: They all suck. But sometimes, we don’t get a choice — or, at least, not an easy choice.
With that in mind, let’s talk about your visits to your grandmother.
I can tell that it’s important to you to be able to bring your grandmother groceries — because you’re still doing it, weekly, even at the risk of running into your mom.
Off the hop, there are some things you can do to minimize your chances of contact.
If you know any particulars about your mom’s schedule (e.g., if she’s working, what her regular work hours are; if she has a regular gym class/book club/standing lunch date, if she never wakes up before noon on a Saturday), you can absolutely use that knowledge to show up at times when you know she’ll be elsewhere.
And depending on your relationship with your grandmother, and how she feels about your estrangement, you could even ask for her help — if she were willing, she could be an ally to you.
If running into your mom at your grandmother’s house would harm or injure you (and only you can make the judgment about how badly it would hurt you, and how much you could endure), you can even take further steps to minimize your risk of contact. Could you organize a weekly grocery delivery for your grandmother, and spend more time talking to her on the phone, or taking her out for coffee/a drive/a visit to the local museum rather than visiting at home?
But if you and your mom do cross paths at your grandmother’s house, you’re right that it’s best to be prepared, and have an exit strategy ready to go.
That could look something like: “Hi mom. I brought grandma her groceries — I was just leaving. Grandma, I love you, I’ve got to go. See you next time!”
If your mom tries to draw you into a discussion or a confrontation, you can keep coming back to that exit plan. Remember: She can’t make you stay somewhere you don’t want to be, and she can’t make you have a conversation you don’t want to have. She can ask, pressure, demand, or coerce … but she can’t force.
Her: “Can’t we talk?” You: [Gathering your things] “Actually, I’m heading out.”
Her: “But -”
You: [Already walking out the door] “Bye. Have a nice visit with grandma.”
It might feel rude — and that’s okay! You’re allowed to be rude, and blunt, and brusque, if that’s what keeps you safe and well. Rudeness isn’t the same as cruelty, even if some people would tell you otherwise. In a script like this, you haven’t done anything violent and you haven’t said anything mean. All you’ve done is leave, without engaging in a conversation you didn’t want to have.
You can tweak this script in whatever way works for you, and practice it with trusted people in your life, so that — if the moment comes when you need it — you’ll be confident in your ability to pull it out at a moment’s notice. Practice shutting down the conversation. Practice walking out of the room. Practice seeking out whatever sources of comfort, care and decompression you’ll want to rely on after seeing your mom.
And if you happen to run into estranged relatives out in the world — at the grocery store, at the DMV, walking down the street — you can come back to these same scripts, and these same principles.
“No, I’m not having a conversation with you. I don’t want to talk, and I’m going to go now.”
Walking out of these situations may never feel as simple as “just leaving” — it’s fraught, on all sides, with heightened emotions and baggage and the weight of past knowledge and relationships.
But whether it’s at your grandma’s house, the grocery store, or any other place you might run into somebody, remember that no one can force you to stay (or have a conversation, or share details about your life) against your will.
Wishing you well,
Hila
Hila (any pronouns) is the Advice Columnist for the Together Estranged Newsletter. They have been happily estranged for a number of years, and now live with their chosen family and beloved, silly dog in rural Canada. They have a background in mental health, peer support, writing and journalism. Outside of work, Hila can be found recreating desserts from The Great British Bake Off, running on the beautiful trails near their home, singing show tunes, and learning to knit.
Please Note: The peer to peer Advice Columnist is not a licensed mental health professional; this is not medical advice. If you are in crisis or you think you may have an emergency, please go to your local urgent care center to talk to a professional counselor.
In addition, the views and opinions expressed by Advice Columnists are those of the Advice Columnists and do not necessarily reflect the views or positions of Together Estranged.