A Redditor got “the message” from his parents, after a decade of silence. You know the one. The casual reach-out that pretends the past was a miscommunication, not a whole childhood.
He’s 19 now, and he hasn’t lived with his parents since he was 8. He hasn’t even said “hi” to them since he was 12.
Back then, his medically fragile little sister needed constant care. His parents drowned in hospital visits, stress, and survival mode. And he became the background character in his own home. He tried to be “good,” got ignored. He tried to be loud, got punished, then ignored again.
Eventually, one broken family heirloom became the excuse. His mom told him she hated him. His dad drove him to his grandparents like he was a problem to drop off.
Now, after all this time, they want to “talk things through.” They even toss in a little guilt and a little blame. Because of course they do.
Now, read the full story:























This one hurts because it’s so simple. A kid begged for attention, and the adults picked “ignore.” Then the kid got loud, and the adults picked “punish.” Then the kid broke, and the adults picked “remove.”
Now he’s 19, and they want a conversation like the last 11 years were a scheduling conflict. And the “you weren’t an angel” line? That’s the part that makes my eye twitch. He acted out at seven. They parented at zero. Kids do not “owe” maturity. Adults owe care, structure, and repair.
If they want a real reconnection, they need to show accountability first. Not guilt. Not pressure. Not a group project where the abandoned child does the emotional labor.
That mix of nostalgia and blame usually signals one thing. They want relief, not relationship. And that takes us straight into the psychology behind it.
When families have a medically complex child, the whole household reorganizes around the crisis. Schedules. Money. Sleep. Emotions.
The problem starts when the “healthy” sibling turns invisible. A lot of people call that the “glass child” dynamic. They look fine, so adults look through them.
Psychology Today describes “glass child” as a term for siblings of kids with disabilities or chronic illness, and the “glass” part speaks to feeling invisible.
That invisibility shows up in OP’s timeline. He stayed quiet, got ignored. He escalated, got punished. He begged, got sidelined. He broke something valuable, got exiled.
This is where many parents tell themselves a comforting story. They say, “We had to focus on the sick child.” That part can be true. Then they quietly add a second sentence. “And the other one should have understood.” That part fails. Because children cannot self-parent through emotional abandonment. Childhood emotional neglect can happen even when parents show up physically.
Verywell Mind explains that emotional neglect can occur when a caregiver seems “present” but stays emotionally unavailable or dismissive, and therapist Daniel Rinaldi calls emotional neglect “a form of trauma” with long-lasting effects.
OP describes exactly that. Parents who yell, isolate, then never follow up. Parents who respond to a child’s distress by walking away. Parents who treat attention as a reward for being easy. Then act shocked when the child tries to become impossible to ignore.
Now add the adult outcome. Estrangement. People love to pretend estrangement happens because of “politics” or “social media.” Sometimes it does.
A lot of times, it starts with childhood adversity that never got repaired.
The CDC’s ACEs resources highlight how common adverse childhood experiences are among teens, including emotional abuse and household dysfunction.
That matters here because OP’s story carries multiple ACE-shaped markers. Chronic emotional abandonment. Explosive conflict. A parent telling a child, “I hate you.”
Then years of no contact, plus a money fight over child support. So when the parents come back with, “We regret how it ended,” OP hears something else.
“We want relief from guilt.” Or, “We want help with your sister.” Or, “We want to rewrite history while you apologize too.”
He does not owe them access to his life. He also does not owe them a debate. “No” can stay a complete sentence.
If he ever considers contact, he can set conditions that protect him. He can ask for a written apology that includes specifics. He can require they stop blaming him for age-7 behavior. He can insist they acknowledge the abandonment at age 8. He can require they address why contact stopped at 12.
He can also choose a low-contact test. One email. One supervised call. One meeting in public.
He can end it the second they push guilt, demand forgiveness, or minimize. Because repair requires accountability.
A parent who leads with “remember you were no angel” is already negotiating. That line tries to split responsibility between a child and two adults. It also signals they want him to carry part of their shame.
OP can choose another path. He can process it with a therapist. He can write a letter he never sends. He can grieve the parents he needed, not the parents he got. He can keep building his adult life with the grandparents who actually showed up. And if he wants a relationship with his sister someday, he can pursue it carefully.
He can do it without letting the parents run the show. Because the core message in this story is blunt. Parents do not get a redo just because time passed.
They earn reconnection through consistent responsibility. Not through urgency, guilt, or “before it’s too late.”
Check out how the community responded:
Reddit basically formed a protective circle and said, “You were eight, not a villain.” A bunch of people also side-eyed the timing hard, because “we regret it” often means “we need something.”




















Then came the “protect yourself” crowd, who treated this like a case file. They focused on boundaries, paperwork, and the very real possibility of a hidden motive.







OP’s parents want a conversation. OP wants peace.
And honestly, peace sounds earned here. He spent his childhood trying to be seen. He tried quiet. He tried loud. He tried desperate.
They chose absence every time, then labeled him the problem. Now they show up with regret and a side of blame. That’s not a repair attempt. That’s a negotiation.
A real reconnection starts with ownership that feels unqualified. It sounds like, “We failed you. You did not deserve it. We are sorry.” No footnotes about being “no angel.” No pressure about “too late.” No recruiting grandparents as backup singers.
If OP ever changes his mind, he can control the pace. He can keep it distant, slow, and conditional. He can also keep the door shut. Both choices can be healthy.
What do you think? Do parents who abandoned a child earn another chance by asking, or by proving they changed? And if you were OP, would you ever trust them again?








