I have lost contact with my mother and feel like an outcast in the family Parents

Question I grew up as a scapegoat in a toxic family where my mother played her children against each other. I didn’t call her A few years ago and kept my interactions with my siblings to a minimum.

I am now the divorced mother of four adults, all of whom live away from home. I have a male relative, with his partner, He became close to two of my children. At first I welcomed this, But it increasingly comes at some cost. A relative was expressing his astonishment That someone who is such a mess (apparently) could have raised such wonderful children. By doing this, they are trying to cause discord between me and the children. They have also become very friendly with my ex-husbandalthough the latter never cared to cultivate any relationship with them until I ended the marriage.

I called my cousin’s behavior His response was to tell me how hurt his feelings were, how angry he was and how much he defended me Over the years. Now he sought to turn my children against me by telling them They twisted the facts. The ripples from the lack of contact with my mother seemed to ripple through the wider family. Is it inevitable that to protect myself I am always doomed to occupy the position of outcast?

Philippa’s answer The experiences you describe, feeling a sense of sacrifice, enduring a chaotic relational atmosphere, and then taking steps to protect yourself, show you to be a person invested in creating a safer, healthier environment for yourself. However, there is an important question embedded in your message that may not have been consciously expressed: What might it mean that, in some way, is contributing to the patterns you wish to escape?

This does not mean placing blame, but rather exploring whether the roles you feel have been imposed on you are, at times, shaping your behaviors and interpretations. In other words, when we live as a “scapegoat,” we may internalize this situation to such an extent that neutral or ambiguous interactions feel like confirmation of it.

The hurtful comment you made from your relative, about being a “mess,” is understandably sad and seems to lack sensitivity. It stands to reason that you might feel undermined and excluded when this person seems to be deepening relationships with your children and ex-spouse. However, the relative’s defensive response raises the possibility that he, too, feels abused and misunderstood. Could this dynamic be less about calculated malice and more about a tangled web of expectations, grievances, and unmet needs on both sides?

Your relative’s closeness to your children and ex-spouse may feel like a threat to your central role in your family, but could there be value in thinking about how to make up for this relationship with your children? Could there be a way to see their relationship as a source of enrichment for them rather than a diminishment of your place in their lives? This does not mean tolerating discomfort, but it may open space for a different interpretation of the motivations involved. Is there room for more exploratory – rather than confrontational – dialogue? Instead of calling each other out, wouldn’t it be better to explore intentions, motives, and feelings? Aim not to win or lose an argument but seek a deeper understanding of each other.

I wonder if the broader themes of this family story are being replayed in subtle ways: the sense of being outed or pitted against others or being objectified. These dynamics may be familiar but they are not inevitable. What does it look like to reframe this novel, to experience moving outside the role of “Pariah,” not by disconnecting but by exploring whether your position within the family can evolve?

These are not easy questions, and they do not come with guarantees. However, they may offer an alternative to blatantly choosing permanent hurtful patterns or severing relationships altogether. Healing from relational trauma often involves re-examining the ways in which we relate to others, including our interpretations of others’ behavior and our own reactions. It is a tender process, but it may allow for the possibility of connection without self-sacrifice.

Cutting ties often does not divorce us from the dynamics but simply restores how they unfold. Sometimes, when relationships are severed without deeper resolution, the underlying energy persists and finds new ways to emerge, as in your difficulties. It is not uncommon for unresolved tensions to take over with part of the family system elsewhere.

If you would like to try therapy to help you work through these issues, I recommend a family systems therapist or a constellation therapist.

The book you want from everyone you love reading (and maybe a few you don’t) by Philippa Perry is published by Cornerstone. Buy it for £9.89 at guardianbookshop.com

Each week Philippa Perry tackles a personal issue submitted by a reader. If you would like advice from Philippa, please send your issue to AskPhilippa@guardian.co.uk. Submissions are subject to us Terms and Conditions