I saw a social media post recently, I think was in a therapist’s forum or page, that suggested a statistically significant amount of therapists are recommending to their clients to severe ties with family members they assess to be “toxic”.  I’m not sure I agree with that idea.

Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of sitting with hundreds of individuals and families as they’ve navigated some of life’s most difficult relationships. Parents and adult children, siblings, spouses, lifelong friends—relationships marked by love, disappointment, misunderstanding, and sometimes profound hurt.

One observation has remained remarkably consistent.

Very few people regret making one more sincere attempt at reconciliation.

Many people, however, carry deep regret over conversations never had, forgiveness never offered, questions never asked, or relationships left unfinished until it was too late.

In recent years, our culture has become much more comfortable talking about “toxic” relationships. There are certainly relationships that are abusive, manipulative, controlling, or genuinely dangerous. In those situations, creating distance—or even ending the relationship altogether—may be the healthiest and most responsible course of action. Protecting your emotional and physical well-being is not selfish. It is an appropriate expression of self-respect.

At the same time, I worry that we’ve begun to blur the distinction between relationships that are truly harmful and relationships that are simply painful, disappointing, or imperfect.

Families are complicated.

Parents are imperfect.

Children grow into adults carrying both gratitude and wounds.

None of us escapes family life without experiencing some measure of hurt, misunderstanding, or disappointment. The question is not whether those experiences occur. The question is how we choose to respond to them.

As a psychologist, I’ve also spent time with people after a parent has died. Grief is difficult under the best of circumstances. When grief is accompanied by unresolved conflict, unfinished conversations, or years of silence, it often becomes even more complicated.

I’ve heard people say, “I wish I had asked him about his childhood.” Or, “I wish we had found a way to talk.” Sometimes it’s simply, “I thought there would be more time.”

Those moments have stayed with me.

They have reinforced my belief that, whenever reasonably possible, reconciliation is worth pursuing.

Notice that I didn’t say reconciliation at any cost.

Reconciliation is not the same as surrender.

It does not require tolerating abuse, ignoring destructive behavior, or pretending that painful things never happened. Healthy reconciliation almost always includes healthy boundaries. In fact, boundaries often make reconciliation possible because they allow people to reconnect without sacrificing their dignity or emotional well-being.

As a student of Logotherapy, I often reflect on Viktor Frankl’s conviction that life continually asks something of us. Perhaps one of life’s most challenging questions is this: How will you respond to those who have hurt you?

Not because they necessarily deserve forgiveness.

Not because they will always change.

But because your response shapes the kind of person you become.

Forgiveness is not the same as permission. Compassion is not the same as enabling. Reconciliation is not the same as returning to an unhealthy relationship exactly as it was before.

Sometimes reconciliation means rebuilding trust over time.

Sometimes it means accepting that the relationship will never become what you hoped it would be.

Sometimes it simply means refusing to allow bitterness to have the final word.

There is a phrase I’ve found myself returning to repeatedly over the years:

“Seek as much unity as you can without losing yourself.”

I believe that captures the balance many people are searching for.

It acknowledges that relationships matter deeply while recognizing that healthy relationships require honesty, mutual respect, and appropriate boundaries. It encourages us to move toward reconciliation without asking us to abandon ourselves in the process.

If your parents are still living, you still have opportunities that someday will no longer exist. Perhaps not every relationship can be restored, but many can be improved. Sometimes that begins with a phone call, an invitation to lunch, a question you’ve never asked, or a simple expression of gratitude.

None of us knows how many opportunities remain.

Before deciding that a relationship is beyond hope, ask yourself one question:

Have I done everything I reasonably can to pursue reconciliation without losing myself?

If the answer is yes, you may find peace in whatever boundaries remain necessary. If the answer is no, perhaps today offers one more opportunity to take a small step toward healing.

We cannot control how another person responds.

But we can live in such a way that, when the day inevitably comes that there are no more conversations to be had, we know we did what we could.

In my experience, that knowledge does not erase grief.

But it often softens regret.

And that, too, is part of living a meaningful life.

— Dr. Dan