For many, the concept of "family" is inextricably linked to the circumstances of birth. It is an institution governed by biology, bloodlines, and a lifetime of shared history. But what happens when that institution fractures? When the people who are supposed to provide a foundational sense of belonging become the source of significant emotional distress, individuals often find themselves navigating a profound rupture. The question of how one moves forward—how one "redoes" family after the painful dissolution of primary ties—has become the focus of a new study by Rin Reczek, a researcher at The Ohio State University.
Estrangement is rarely a simple matter of walking away from a single difficult relationship. As Reczek’s research highlights, the severance of ties with a parent or sibling often functions as a ripple effect, destabilizing holiday traditions, eroding connections with extended relatives, and challenging a person’s fundamental sense of belonging. In the vacuum left by this departure, there is often a powerful, human drive to construct an alternative framework for support and identity.
To understand how individuals navigate this reconstruction process, Reczek conducted a comprehensive qualitative study. The research project involved recruiting 68 adults who had experienced estrangement from at least one member of their family of origin. The recruitment process was intentional, drawing from participants who had encountered news coverage of the study and those active in online forums dedicated to the experiences of estranged individuals. On average, the participants were 38 years old and had been living with the reality of estrangement for approximately 7.5 years. By engaging in in-depth interviews, Reczek sought to map the evolving perceptions of family and identify the common themes that emerge when people decide to define their own kinship networks.
The findings, published in the Journal of Marriage and Family, reveal that for many, the path to healing lies in a radical shift in perspective. The most prevalent change identified in the study is the de-prioritization of biology in favor of intentional, chosen connections. Many participants articulated a clear detachment from the traditional, obligatory view of family. As one participant noted during the interview process, the existence of a biological link does not inherently create a moral or emotional debt. "Just because you’re biologically related to them doesn’t mean you have any obligation to them," the participant explained, adding, "And just the fact that we’re related doesn’t mean that I really feel anything toward you."
This sentiment underscores a broader cultural shift where the definition of family is increasingly being filtered through the lens of quality and mutual respect rather than genealogy. By stripping away the requirement for biological permanence, these individuals are able to reclaim agency over their emotional lives.
However, the study also uncovered a more nuanced and less common strategy for re-establishing a sense of lineage. While the majority of participants focused on present-day, chosen relationships, a subset of the cohort found comfort in the past. Five participants—all of whom identified as Black or Native American—described finding a sense of family through symbolic, often metaphysical, connections with deceased ancestors. This practice suggests that for some, the concept of family is not limited to the living, nor is it limited to those who have provided direct care. One participant described this connection as a deep, spiritual resonance with specific figures from their family tree, such as a grandfather or a maternal great-grandmother, noting, "This is a little bit more metaphysical, but I really feel a deep connection to a couple of specific ancestors on each of my sides." This theme highlights how cultural and ancestral identity can serve as a stable anchor even when immediate familial relationships are fraught or non-existent.
Beyond these broad shifts in philosophy, Reczek identified three distinct, practical ways in which participants actively rebuilt their kinship networks. The first, and perhaps most common, strategy involved the deliberate cultivation of safe, trustworthy relationships with people outside the traditional family structure. These "chosen families" often comprise friends, housemates, community members, and even one’s own children. This approach was found to be particularly salient among LGBTQ participants, who may have historically experienced higher rates of family rejection. For these individuals, the intentionality of friendship acts as a corrective experience. As one participant poignantly remarked, "I never really had trust in my family. They’ve never been those people… my friends—I trust them… which in my mind feels like what family should be."
The second strategy involves the pursuit of "surrogate" parental figures. Many of those interviewed expressed a desire for the unconditional support and guidance that they felt they had been denied by their parents. They found this support in older coworkers, mentors, or the parents of their close friends. These relationships are often characterized by a one-way flow of support that feels safe because it lacks the baggage and complex history of a biological parent-child dynamic. The result is a "pseudo-parental" relationship that, while perhaps not perfect, provides a vital emotional supplement. One participant described this experience as "one of the most beautiful things I’ve experienced," emphasizing that even an imperfect surrogate relationship can fill a significant void in one’s life.
Finally, the study identified that some individuals choose to maintain, or even strengthen, their ties with specific extended relatives. Estrangement from a primary family member—such as a parent—often makes it difficult to remain in contact with the wider family network, as loyalties are tested and interactions become strained. However, some participants made a conscious effort to preserve these kinship ties by bypassing the estranged party and focusing on direct relationships with aunts, uncles, or cousins. This requires a high degree of active effort and navigation, often involving the individual "showing up" for milestones to prove their continued commitment to the broader family unit. As one participant explained, they had taken on the role of the active relative, ensuring they attend christenings and family gatherings to stay connected to cousins and great-aunts, essentially curating the family network they wanted to keep.
Reczek’s research suggests that while estrangement is undoubtedly a source of significant emotional transition, it does not have to result in a permanent void. The process of "redoing" family is a restorative act. By reframing what constitutes a family member—moving away from the constraints of biology and toward the metrics of trust, support, and shared values—individuals are able to build networks that offer genuine belonging. The study provides a significant contribution to our understanding of human resilience, illustrating that when the traditional structures of family fail, people possess the capacity to construct new ones that are often more resilient, intentional, and personally fulfilling than the ones they left behind.
Ultimately, the findings indicate that the "redo" is not a substitute for the original, but rather a transformation of the concept of kinship itself. It is a transition from a passive, inherited state to an active, chosen one. In this light, estrangement is not merely an ending; it is a catalyst for the intentional design of one’s own support system, providing a clearer path toward the safety and belonging that everyone seeks.
