‘Mum… does everyone have two grandpas and two grandmas?’ Asked my son.
I froze.
I’d known this day was coming, the day he was going to ask me about my family.
He was five years old and, now that he was in kindergarten, he was absorbing information from his world at lightning speed and asking questions even faster than that. So I should have been prepared. But I wasn’t.
After all, what could I say? How could I begin to explain that, the reason my children have never met my family before (and for good reason), is because we are estranged?
My childhood was tough. I won’t go into the details, mainly because I have always kept that part of myself as a closed book to everyone, including my closest friends.
But also because it has taken me the better part of my 20s, 30s, and now early 40s to try to and process it. Even now, I’m only at the tip of the iceberg
From explosive anger, to passive aggressiveness and the silent treatment, I had, unfortunately, quite difficult home environment.
Thankfully, I chose education as my escape route and spent my childhood tucked away in my bedroom studying.
When I was 24 I started medical school and was finally able to leave my family home permanently.
When I made short trips home over the holidays, they were brief and suffocating. And the freedom I felt when I left to resume living life on my own terms was nothing short of wonderful.
As the years passed, I gradually tried to distance myself further. Less information was shared, less phone calls were made, and less emails were sent.
When I met my significant other and got engaged eight years later, my relationship with my family only got worse.
Traditionally, Indian weddings are very family oriented. The parents are supposed to be heavily involved in the planning and the actual ceremony itself. Yet my parents took a giant step back.
I made the decision to not invite them at all. Not one family member was present on my wedding day.
It took every ounce of courage to wake up that morning, get ready with a smile and to walk down the aisle knowing I was truly taking this monumental step alone. But I did it.
However, when I got pregnant shortly after, I was torn about what to do.
I kept thinking to myself: ‘if anyone can reunite my family, certainly a baby could’.
There were many times I thought about reaching out. I even drafted an email in my head several times.
But, as my pregnancy was high-risk – due to the fact my son wasn’t growing as expected in utero – I was adamant about not adding any additional stress. So I never did.
When my son was born in July 2017 it was yet another day of mixed emotions.
Naturally, I felt a combination of excitement and overwhelmed as a first-time mum. And though I was thankful to have my husband there with me, I do remember wishing I had my mum by my side.
Even to this day, that’s a feeling that’s never quite left me. There’s so many times I’ve wished I could call her for advice.
Now it has been exactly eight years since I last had any contact with my family.
They’ve never met my son, or my daughter who is now almost five and I don’t know anything about them either.
I’ve been in therapy, read many articles about familial estrangement, and have joined support groups – anything to make me feel less alone in a world where most of my friends still don’t fully grasp my family dynamics or my choices.
Most importantly though, now that I have children of my own, I have worked incredibly hard to foster a better childhood for them than I had.
There are times I’m almost envious of them, wishing I had had what they currently take for granted.
My response to my son was, admittedly, a bit weak. I told him that we don’t see my parents because they live far away – I’m in the US, they’re in Canada – and I felt like such a chicken for not addressing the reality.
Determined to explain properly, I began searching for a children’s book on familial estrangement to introduce the topic to him in a way he could understand. But, after weeks of searching I couldn’t find one.
So, I wrote one for him.
At first I didn’t tell anyone I was writing it – not my husband, friends or even my therapist. The goal was to introduce the taboo yet common subject of familial estrangement, and the concept that family dynamics can sometimes be difficult.
But the words practically flew out of me.
After just two days I sent my manuscript to a handful of children’s publishers for feedback, expecting rejection.
But in May, my book, titled Saanvi’s Family Tree, was published.
It follows Saanvi as she completes a family tree for a school homework assignment.
As she learns about her family members, she questions why she has never met her maternal grandparents.
Her mother then gently explains that sometimes family members act in harmful ways, and that a break or pause is needed in the relationship.
It is my story in every way.
Since its release, I have had wonderful feedback from people who, just like me, have struggled to explain familial estrangement to their children.
As for my children, they love the book and proudly show it off to all their friends. Best of all, they now have a better understanding of why my family is not in the picture. It’s made everything easier for all of us.
Writing this book has also been cathartic for me and I feel so incredibly lucky and blessed to be able to help families, including my own.
The shame, stigma, and embarrassment I have carried all these years from my own personal experience with estrangement has now started to fade. Now, I am starting to feel proud of all that I have accomplished on my own.
Degrees of Separation
This series aims to offer a nuanced look at familial estrangement.
Estrangement is not a one-size-fits-all situation, and we want to give voice to those who’ve been through it themselves.
If you’ve experienced estrangement personally and want to share your story, you can email [email protected]
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