A lull in the weekly parade of teachers across the U.S. being busted for sexual relationships with their students ended this week with a Minnesota teacher being hit with a jail sentence for meetups with a student and another educator in Kentucky banned from ever teaching again after pleading guilty to sexting with a pupil.
Amid a growing trend of parent-child estrangement, experts say recognizing the early warning signs may help families address problems before they escalate into a no-contact situation.
Nearly four in 10 Americans are currently estranged from at least one close family member, according to a 2025 YouGov poll of 4,395 U.S. adults. That includes 24% who reported estrangement from a sibling, 16% from a parent and 10% from a child.
While estrangement can sometimes seem sudden, experts say subtle changes may signal that a family relationship is beginning to unravel.
Mary McLaughlin, a licensed couples and family therapist in Vienna, Virginia, said early signs may include an adult child becoming less willing to share details of their life directly with a parent.
"You might find out about the trip, the new relationship or a promotion at work at the same time everyone else does," she told Fox News Digital.
The parent may still be in contact with the adult child, McLaughlin said, but the child no longer chooses to share parts of their life directly.
Other potential warning signs may include skipping family holidays, birthdays or weddings; leaving texts and calls unanswered; and reducing communication to brief or sporadic exchanges, according to the expert.
The distance may become so noticeable that siblings, grandparents or other relatives comment that they have not seen or heard from the adult child in a long time.
A child who once readily joined family photos but begins stepping out of them may also be signaling that they are starting to see themselves as separate from the family, McLaughlin said.
Blythe Landry, a Pennsylvania-based therapist and founder of Blythe Landry Coaching, said other early signs may include a child becoming involved with a new social group that encourages estrangement over difficult conversations, or "beginning to rewrite history in a way that seems more damaging than what might have happened."
The adult child may also become less willing to let a parent spend time with their grandchildren.
The most telling sign may be a noticeable shift in the tone of the relationship, Landry said.
"You know your child, and you know when the energy has shifted in a direction that seems dramatically harsher than in previous interactions."
The shift to independence
Laura Wellington, a Connecticut mother who has been estranged from her adult daughter since 2024, said it can be challenging to distinguish early signs of estrangement from typical moves toward independence.
"It’s confusing to the parent because, a lot of times, they look like the general signs of a teenager moving into the young-adult zone — just pulling away and going off and establishing their lives," she told Fox News Digital.
"That’s what I think confuses many parents, because they want to give them the space to start pulling away and showing signs of their own individuality and carving their path."
"They don’t want to fight every battle, because if they fight every battle, then communication breaks down. So they try to pick and choose."
Loss of respect
One warning sign, according to Wellington, is if the child has an "I know everything, you know nothing" mindset.
"What's happening in our society today is … a lot of ‘I know everything, you know nothing’ toward the parent," she said. "There's no respect for what the parents experience. There's no tolerance for them speaking up and saying, ‘No, this is not what you should be doing.’"
In some cases, the child may begin treating the parent as a subordinate, according to Wellington.
Some parents begin to notice a shift when their adult children start treating them with disrespect, pushing back on their opinions and positioning themselves as the authority in the relationship, she said.
"They become the authority; they flip it. Anytime you say something, you’ll see them bark at the parent and push back on the parent. They really have no respect for the parent."
Different worldviews
Wellington also pointed to major differences in political, religious or lifestyle beliefs as a possible source of growing distance between parents and adult children.
She suggested that some young people who become estranged are "more liberal in thinking," while acknowledging that the dynamic can also work in the opposite direction when a parent holds especially strong ideological views.
"There is extremism sometimes where the parent is extremely something, and then the child … goes the other way," she said.
Richard Blake, Ph.D., a Texas-based psychology researcher who focuses on anxiety and family estrangement, said an adult child’s unwillingness to consider differing views may signal trouble.
He suggested that personality may play a role, with more argumentative adult children who are less willing to consider differing views potentially more prone to family estrangement.
Another possible warning sign, according to Blake, is if the adult child has begun cutting off other people. He said parents should take note if an adult child has repeatedly stopped speaking to relatives or openly boasts about ending relationships.
"Chances are, they're going to cut off someone else, and it may be the parent," he said. "If you haven’t been cut off yet, you may be in the firing line there."
Communication breakdown
Ongoing communication problems may be an early warning sign, Blake said, particularly when an adult child feels that a parent refuses to listen or acknowledge the child’s point of view.
"They may say, 'My parents just don’t listen. I cannot get through to them. It’s like talking to a brick wall.'"
Parents who consistently dismiss their children’s concerns should not be surprised when conflict develops, he said.
"If you don’t listen to your child, then don’t be surprised if you have conflict with them."
Blake recommends listening actively, avoiding interruptions, repeating back what the other person has said and asking a simple follow-up question: "First, you say, 'Is there more?'"
When we had a baby, though, our setup started to feel less and less fair.
We agreed to combine most of our money, and it's helped us feel like a team.
Maybe it's because I'm an only child raised by a single mother, but I've always valued independence.
I walked down the aisle alone. I'll happily go out to dinner or a movie by myself. When faced with a problem, my instinct is to wrestle with it myself rather than ask for help. (I'm working on that one.)
And when my husband and I got married, I was adamant about keeping our finances separate.
For years, this arrangement worked beautifully. But after we had a baby in the summer of last year, I began to wonder whether the financial independence I'd clung to was actually working against us.
Keeping our finances separate gave me a sense of freedom
We opened a joint account after buying a house, but continued to keep most of our money in separate accounts.
Rebecca Strong
The concept of combining finances has always made me uncomfortable, mostly because I didn't like the idea of having to justify any impulse purchases I've made after working particularly hard. My husband was always on the same page.
The first time we really talked about changing our system was when we bought a house together in 2020, several years before we got married. We knew that this, of course, would come with a lot of shared expenses.
We decided to open a joint account, and to both deposit the same amount each month to cover those expenses — like the mortgage, utilities, and groceries. Then, we kept the remainder of our earnings in separate checking accounts.
When my husband wanted to splurge on some new audio equipment, he didn't feel the need to consult me. Similarly, I didn't have to "ask permission" every time I wanted to get my hair done or go out for a nice dinner with a friend.
To me, this system reflected just how much we trusted each other to make financially responsible decisions with our own money. Besides, it felt fair: We were both contributing equally to maintaining our home, while preserving some autonomy.
After having a baby, our separate finances started creating tension
In 2025, we had a baby. Suddenly, finances felt a lot less cut-and-dried.
Because my husband and I are both freelancers, every hour one of us spends working is often an hour the other spends caring for our son. So, when my husband takes a last-minute gig, I lose that time to work, but I don't directly benefit from what he earns — and vice versa.
We started to find ourselves competing for the working hours we needed to cover day care and the mortgage, even though we were supposed to be operating as a team. The "every man for himself" dynamic felt completely antithetical to what marriage was supposed to be.
Meanwhile, the costs of parenthood — diapers, formula, day care, clothing — were accumulating, forcing us to contribute more and more to our joint account. And now, one of us often had to sacrifice earning opportunities so the other could work.
During one of our recent weekly marriage check-ins, I expressed some resentment about how I'd been responsible for picking up our son from day care most days the previous week, while my husband was able to work much longer into the night.
"I'm contributing the same amount, but I'm not being given enough time to earn that amount," I said.
Combining more of our money helped us feel like a team again
Now, merging our money feels more equitable.
Rebecca Strong
Since our time and responsibilities are so intertwined these days, and we have a longer list of shared expenses than ever, we realized that the best way to make our situation feel more equitable was to merge more of our money.
In the past, we each deposited the same fixed dollar amount into our joint account every month. Now, we contribute nearly all our earnings to that account and set aside the same amount for both of us to spend as we wish.
That change helped curb some of the competition and resentment. Now, when one of us takes on an extra gig, client, or project, it feels like a win for both of us — regardless of who's earning the paycheck.
That's not to say we've found the perfect arrangement. We're still figuring out how much personal spending money makes sense to set aside and which major expenses warrant a conversation.
The important thing, though, is that we've realized independence and partnership aren't mutually exclusive. We share the same financial goals, so it only makes sense to share our earnings. We're not giving up our financial independence, but redefining what it means to us.
I used to fancy myself as a binfluencer, the first mover on bin night who signals to the neighbourhood what colour bin they should be wheeling out this week.
I used to fancy myself as a binfluencer, the first mover on bin night who signals to the neighbourhood what colour bin they should be wheeling out this week.
My partner and I often joke that we're in a 'middle-distance' relationship.
Lindsey Galloway
My partner lives in a spacious house in rural Colorado, and I live in a condo in Boulder.
We haven't found a place that fits both of our needs yet, so we're content living 45 minutes apart.
There are challenges, but we enjoy spending lots of time at each other's homes.
Every weekend, my partner makes the best breakfast: over-medium eggs, handmade tortillas, and fresh hash browns.
We often eat outside thanks to Colorado's bright, sunny days, then we'll walk around the lake, watch some football, and spend the evening roasting marshmallows over the fire pit.
Then, when Sunday night arrives, I get in my car and drive the 45 minutes back to my dream condo to get ready for the week ahead.
My partner and I met at work 13 years ago, and we intend to spend the rest of our lives together, but we still live apart. We know each other's rhythms, quirks, and needs, and have no secrets, just separate addresses.
I often joke that we're in a "middle-distance" relationship. At least we're in the same state, but it's also not always easy or convenient to drop by for dinner.
Living apart lets us each keep a home we love
Both of us are divorced, and we both love the houses we have.
My partner lives in rural northeastern Colorado and bought his home after his divorce. It's bigger than mine, with a huge yard and a custom-designed patio built for entertaining.
His neighborhood isn't exactly walkable, but he's originally from a small town in Texas, so he doesn't mind driving longer distances to get to places he wants to go.
Meanwhile, after my divorce, I moved back into the Boulder condo I had been renting out while married. My unit is smaller than my partner's, but I love its mountain views and proximity to all my favorite places, like my go-to local bakery.
It needed a lot of work when I moved back in, but I invested in new paint and flooring to really make it mine again.
I want to stay close to Boulder, and he wants a big house. The tight, expensive housing market has made it tough to find a new place we both love.
Though we've toured many houses together over the last six months, we haven't been impressed by any of them enough to leave the places we've already made our own.
Our setup isn't as tough as people think
We've built a routine that works well for us.
Lindsey Galloway
One thing that has made this arrangement easier is that we're used to living out of our suitcases. I'm a professional travel writer, and he works for a company based on the East Coast. We also love to explore new places together whenever we can.
When we are both home in Colorado, we've found a routine that has worked pretty well for us. My partner often spends some weeknights here, where we're close to restaurants, friends, walkable downtown Boulder, and other things to do after work.
Then, I'll go up to his house for quiet, relaxed weekends, and to watch my favorite team on the 100-inch screen (go Raiders!). We also tend to entertain at his bigger house.
Both of us get bored easily, so having a change of scenery and routine keeps life feeling fresh. My 14-year-old pug has adapted, too, and travels with me between places.
To make things easier, I've bought duplicates of staples like deodorant and an electric toothbrush, so I'm not schlepping them (or forgetting them!) every weekend.
That said, there are challenging things about our setup. Packing up every few days can be a hassle, and it can be stressful to land at the airport and decide which house to go to, especially when I miss both my partner and the feeling of being "home."
We always make an effort to overcommunicate our plans and extend understanding whenever one of us just needs to get home to do a load of laundry.
We'll find our dream home eventually
We plan to move in together eventually.
Lindsey Galloway
Every day, I'm scrolling listings that meet both our picky criteria and calling up agents for showings, but so far, we haven't loved anything as much as our current homes.
It sounds frustrating, but we both think this is a pretty good problem to have: It gives us more leverage in the homebuying process and means we don't have to settle for something that is only half-right or makes just one of us happy.
We're confident that we'll find a home that fits us both, but in the meantime, navigating the middle-distance has only made our relationship stronger.
The author and her husband have a 23-year age gap.
Courtesy of Caroline Chirichella
My husband is 23 years older than I am, but our age difference never bothered me before.
Now that he's 61 and we're raising two young kids, I'm noticing our different energy levels.
I love our life together, but I'm struggling with the realities of our age gap.
When my husband and I first met back in 2014, we had what many would consider a whirlwind romance. We met, fell in love almost instantly, moved in together after a year, got engaged six months later, married a month after that, and a little over a year later, welcomed our first child.
It was all very exciting, rushed, and filled with emotion and love.
I'm also a very rational person who doesn't get easily swept up in the moment. So we talked about a lot of the "hard" decisions that couples so often neglect to discuss at the beginning of a relationship. We talked about children, our future, and what we wanted our lives to look like. That's why, now, more than 12 years later, it's surprising to find myself struggling with something I thought I had already made peace with: our age gap.
He is 23 years older than me
My husband and I have a 23-year age difference. Yes, I was always aware of it. And, to be honest, it never really made a difference to me.
The author's husband is now in his 60s and the couple has two young kids.
Courtesy of the author
Especially when it came to the big life decisions, including having children, we had those conversations before we even got engaged. I knew exactly how old he was. I knew there would be things about growing older together that would be different for us.
But I guess there's a big difference between being aware of something that could eventually happen and actually living it.
Our age difference has been showing up in more ways than one lately, and there's a part of me that's angry with myself for being surprised by it.
It's not like my husband was always going to be the 48-year-old I met when I was 25. I knew he would age. I knew things would change as he got older. I knew there would eventually be a point when the difference between us became more noticeable.
I just don't think I ever wanted to admit to myself exactly how much.
He's in his 60s now
I knew he was going to be an older father. I knew all of this. But knowing something and seeing it firsthand are two very different things. Lately, I've seen just how much his 61 years are catching up to him, and it's been putting me in a strange place.
I keep a lot of things together for my family. We have two young children, and I have my own business. There is already a lot that weighs on me. But what I've noticed recently is my husband's physical health beginning to catch up with his age.
Courtesy of the author
Don't get me wrong — my husband is in great shape for a 61-year-old. But at the same time, most 61-year-olds aren't running after toddlers or handling the daily insanity of school drop-off and pick-up.
And that difference is becoming harder for me to ignore. What bothers me most is how naive I feel. I knew this was a possibility. Quite frankly, my husband knew it, too. When we discussed having children, we were always on the same page, but he expressed his concerns about being an "old" dad. I heard him. We talked about it. We made the decision together.
And yet, now that I'm watching the reality unfold in front of me, I'm beginning to feel guilty. As though I've been selfish. As though somehow this isn't fair to my kids.
I see how much fatherhood — and, frankly, being a husband — can weigh on him.
The everyday insanity of being part of a household with a high-maintenance 8-year-old and a very independent 3-year-old is a lot for anyone, myself included. But it's especially a lot for a 61-year-old.
Sometimes he physically can't keep up with our 3-year-old, who runs at a pace that could outrun the best of us. Sometimes he mentally can't keep up with our eight-year-old, who talks at about a million miles a minute.
And those moments make the age difference feel very real.
It's not just the fatherhood aspect
I feel his patience with me beginning to waver, too, and I wonder how much of that is because we're simply in such different phases of life.
I have a thriving public relations firm, and I feel like I'm just getting started. I have energy and ambition and a feeling that there is still so much ahead of me.
He had a contracting firm for many years, but that chapter of his life is well behind him now. At his age, he should be enjoying retirement. Instead, he's a stay-at-home dad and handles a huge amount for our family. But he's far from retired.
He's the only one who drives, so he's the family's chauffeur. He makes appointments and handles logistical things. He oversees the renovations on our house. He does the grocery shopping. He does so, so much.
And the truth is, at this age, maybe he shouldn't have to.
Our relationship itself hasn't really changed. We are still very lucky to have an incredibly open and loving relationship. We talk about these things. We try to give each other space and understand where one another is coming from. We each do what we can mentally and physically for each other, for our children, and, just as importantly, for ourselves.
I think what we're realizing is that neither of us has ever been here before.
We knew there was an age gap when we met. We knew what it meant on paper. We talked about the difficult possibilities before we got married and before we had children.
At 25, I could understand that my husband was 23 years older than me. At 38, I can feel it.
I've seen all kinds of weddings over the past decade, but many couples make the same mistakes.
Courtesy of Cameron Dever
I've worked as a wedding photographer for years, and I've seen couples make the same mistakes.
Too many people schedule the day to the minute and don't get the chance to enjoy their wedding.
Not budgeting for the right photographer and videographer can lead to disappointing results.
I've been photographing weddings for over a decade, so I've witnessed countless ceremonies and receptions — some disastrous, others impeccable.
Throughout the years, I've also watched couples make the same mistakes over and over. Here are a few I wish they'd avoid.
Filling the day-of schedule with way too much
Couples have to find time for the ceremony, photos, eating and drinking, dancing, talking to the people they invited, and connecting with each other.
When you try to fit too many things into the day, no one — especially the married couple — has time to breathe and relish the moments. The day can feel rushed and more focused on activities than the celebration of love.
A packed schedule often leaves couples stressed, with no time to eat because they've been pushed from one 15-minute window to the next.
However, your wedding day shouldn't be a blur. You should have time to soak in every moment. When you map out your day, prioritize traditions you love and estimate how long each will take … then add buffers.
I also recommend working with a wedding planner or coordinator to plan your timeline, or consulting with your photographer and other vendors when arranging your schedule. They've experienced countless weddings and know firsthand how much time each activity usually takes.
Letting small mishaps and issues ruin the whole day
Learning how to laugh off the small mishaps is absolutely key.
Courtesy of Cameron Dever
One of the things I always tell my couples right before their wedding day is that something will go wrong.
I don't say this to scare them or make them worry, but mostly to adjust their expectations. No matter how much planning you do, people are imperfect, the weather can be unpredictable, and life happens.
By the time the day comes, couples have done all they can to make sure it's how they pictured it. All that matters after that is that they enjoy their wedding.
Missing flowers or a cake that's the wrong flavor can throw off your day — but these unexpected mishaps shouldn't be so consuming that they're all you remember from your wedding.
I don't want to witness any more miserable couples desperately trying to fix details that will never be exactly right. Please try to roll with the punches on your wedding day.
Hiring the wrong photographer or videographer
I may be a bit biased, but I strongly believe having important memories properly documented in photo and video form is priceless.
I've also heard from countless married couples who regret booking a subpar photographer or skipping a videographer.
When hiring any vendors — especially these — choose carefully. You're paying someone to use their physical and creative energy to tell the story of your wedding.
Ask a ton of questions and make sure you love their style by viewing their portfolios and websites. It can also help to hop on a phone call or video meeting — couples should esnsure they vibe with their photo and video team on a personal level because they'll be spending a lot of time with them on the big day.
Planning the wedding they think they should have instead of the one they actually want
You don't have to have a cookie-cutter wedding.
Courtesy of Cameron Dever
Weddings are for the couple, so they should do what they want.
I see so many of them spend thousands of dollars and devote countless hours to planning, only to celebrate their love the way they think they're supposed to — not how they'd actually like.
Your wedding should be unique to you, and it doesn't need to look like everyone else's. If you wish to elope in the forest or plan a ball inspired by "Bridgerton" in a mansion, go for it.
The couple is at the core of the celebration, so why shouldn't everything be based on who they are and what matters most to them?
Consider this my official public service announcement: Your wedding can — and should — be fun, unique, and meaningful to you.
This story was originally published in June 2021 and most recently updated on October 23, 2026.
In our Divorce Diaries series, we speak to people in Ireland about their experience of marriage and divorce. This week, a woman in her 40s with two children talks about separation from her perspective
A powerful reflection on the pull of nostalgia, on learning to accept that a past life is gone even as you tentatively reach back for it. Tiffany Huang captures the ache of lost opportunities and regretted paths, of staying a course out of duty and responsibility even as your sense of home erodes. It’s a gorgeous, bittersweet read about what it means to move on long before you’ve fully let go.
You unmasked for the first time, revealing smooth cheeks, a sharp chin, and a long nose. You talked about your book, in progress for several years now, about a Hong Kong man drifting aimlessly around the world. I asked you how you felt about the protests and noted the resignation in your tone. You wanted to write a book about what it meant to be a man from Hong Kong; if Hong Kong disappeared, what would happen to the man? You told me about your family, and it was clear we were not meeting to talk about writing anymore. When you spoke, you chose your words carefully. You didn’t ask me about my boyfriend, only how I felt about returning to America. When I hesitated, you did not ask why, and when I spoke, you listened instead of interrupting me. I didn’t want to leave.
Login
