Open a newspaper or scroll through social media at the moment and you could be forgiven for thinking that families are falling apart at record speed. Brooklyn Beckham has reportedly stepped back from his famous parents. Prince Harry's rift with his father and brother has filled column inches for years. Brad Pitt's children, Meghan Markle's relationship with her father, and the news that Olympic swimmer Adam Peaty married without his parents present have all become shorthand for a wider story the media loves to tell: that we are living through an epidemic of family "cut-off."
The language used is striking. Reports warn of TikTok "estrange-fluencers" and online personalities supposedly encouraging people to go "no contact" with their relatives. The impression is of a generation reaching for the axe, ready to lop off whole branches of the family tree at the first sign of difficulty, egged on by celebrities and influencers, and giving little thought to the consequences.
It makes for a compelling headline. But is it actually true? A thoughtful piece in last month's BACP magazine took this question seriously, and the answer it arrived at is more nuanced, and more interesting, than the panic suggests.
Is estrangement really on the rise?
The honest answer is that we do not really know. As family conflict specialist and psychotherapist Karl Melvin points out in the BACP article, the data simply is not strong enough to support confident claims that estrangement is surging. There are no robust longitudinal studies tracking the same people over many years, which is the kind of evidence you would need to say with any certainty that family ruptures are becoming more common.
What we have instead are snapshots, and they do not line up neatly. A 2025 YouGov poll of around 4,395 American adults found that 38% described themselves as currently estranged from a relative, most often a sibling, then a parent, then a child. This figure is frequently held up against an earlier Cornell University study from 2020, which put the rate closer to one in four US adults. Place those two numbers side by side and it looks like a dramatic jump.
The problem, as Melvin explains, is that the studies are not comparing like with like. They used different groups of people, different definitions of what estrangement even means, and different methods of gathering information. Some surveys, he suggests, sit closer to market research than rigorous academic study. Comparing them and declaring a trend is a little like measuring two different rooms with two different rulers and concluding that one has grown.
There is a further wrinkle. In the UK, many of the figures often quoted came from Stand Alone, a prominent estrangement charity that closed its doors in 2024. If family breakdown were truly exploding, you might expect demand for such a service to be soaring rather than the organisation winding down. That is not proof either way, since running a charity involves all sorts of pressures unrelated to need. But it does complicate the simple story of a problem spiralling out of control.
Research into reconciliation is just as patchy. As Melvin notes, there is no agreed definition of what counts as a relationship being "repaired." How long does renewed contact need to last before we call it a success? And if relatives are speaking again, does that actually mean the relationship is healthy, or simply that the silence has ended? Talking is not the same as healing.
So what is actually changing?
If the rate of estrangement may not have shifted as much as the headlines imply, something clearly has. What appears to be changing is not how often families drift apart, but how openly we talk about it.
Clinical psychologist and psychotherapist Christine Schneider, who writes the ethics column for BACP's Private Practice journal, makes this point clearly in the article. She is similarly cautious about claims of rising estrangement, but she is in no doubt that it is being named, discussed, and in some cases deliberately chosen far more openly than before.
Part of this comes down to language. Thanks to the sheer volume of psychological information now available online, people are arriving in therapy with a far richer vocabulary for their own experiences than they had even a decade ago. Terms like boundaries, emotional needs, autonomy, and invalidation have moved from clinical settings into everyday conversation. That shift means long-standing family tensions, which might once have been endured in silence, are now brought into sharper focus and given a name.
Alongside this sits a cultural change in permission. Where once stepping back from a parent or sibling might have been seen as shameful or unthinkable, there is now broader acceptance that it can be a legitimate choice when a relationship feels persistently unsafe or damaging. The conversation has become less taboo. People feel more able to speak about it without expecting automatic judgement.
This is the crucial distinction. The media frames estrangement as a trend being manufactured by influencers. A more grounded reading is that people who were already struggling now have the words and the social space to articulate what they are going through. Visibility is not the same as an epidemic.
A longer history than the headlines admit
There is one group for whom none of this is remotely new. LGBTQ+ people have been navigating family rejection and alienation for generations, long before YouTube, TikTok, or X existed. For many, the experience of being cut off, or of having to set a protective distance from relatives who could not accept them, is a painful and familiar part of life.
This matters because it punctures the idea that family estrangement is a modern fashion invented by social media. For some communities it has always been a reality, often carrying enormous emotional weight. Recognising that history helps us treat the current conversation with the seriousness it deserves, rather than dismissing it as a passing craze.
What this means if you are living it
Behind every statistic is a person carrying something heavy. Whether you have chosen distance from a family member, had that distance imposed on you, or are sitting painfully somewhere in between, your experience is real and it deserves a thoughtful space, not a sensational headline.
Estrangement is rarely simple. It can bring relief and grief at the same time. It can involve guilt, anger, loyalty, and love all at once. There is no single right answer about whether to maintain contact, set boundaries, or attempt reconciliation, and anyone who offers you one is probably oversimplifying.
This is exactly the kind of territory where therapy can help. A good therapist will not push you towards cutting off or making up. Instead, they offer a confidential, non-judgemental place to untangle what the relationship means to you, what you need, and what feels right for your own wellbeing.
If any of this resonates, and you would like support in thinking it through, the therapists at South London Therapy Group (https://www.southlondontherapygroup.com/directory) or https://thetherapistfinder.com/ are here to help. You do not have to make sense of it alone.
This piece draws on reporting published in BACP's membership magazine.

