Parents Who Aren’t Close With Their Adult Children Often Display These 9 Behaviors Without Realizing It

We don’t set out to drift apart from our grown kids, but it happens quietly—one conversation at a time, one old habit at a time.

I’ve seen this up close in families I coach and in my own life.

Back when I worked as a financial analyst, I loved spreadsheets because they were predictable.

Relationships are not. The “control everything” impulse that works for budgets can start to backfire with adult children.

If you’re curious about building a warmer relationship—or even just making sure you’re not pushing your kids away without realizing it—these are nine common behaviors I see.

As you read, notice which ones make you wince a little.

That’s usually where the growth is.

1. Infantilizing and over-managing

Do you still double-check their travel plans, remind them to wear a coat, or “fix” their résumé without being asked?

That was helpful when they were twelve. At twenty-seven, it can feel patronizing.

Infantilizing shows up in small ways: calling them “my baby” in front of others, taking over a project they’ve got covered, or insisting on “helping” when your help wasn’t requested.

The message (even if unintentional) is: I don’t fully trust you to run your life.

Try this: shift from manager to consultant. Ask, “Do you want ideas, or just a listening ear?” If they want ideas, offer two or three, then step back.

If not, honor it.

Respect communicates, “I see you as capable,” which is the bedrock of closeness with adult kids.

2. Chronic criticism and unsolicited advice

There’s a difference between sharing perspective and picking them apart.

Constant notes on their career moves, apartment choices, diet, or partner eventually morph into background noise of disapproval.

Here’s a quick check I use with parents: if your advice is a reflex, it’s probably not landing.

Advice given before curiosity usually gets heard as criticism.

Try this: get curious first. “What’s important to you about that decision?”

Follow with one genuine affirmation: “I love how thoughtful you’re being.” If you still feel compelled to offer input, ask for permission: “Want my take?”

Consent changes the whole tone.

3. Guilt trips and martyrdom

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll just spend the holidays alone.” “We do so much for you, and this is how you repay us?”

These lines may come from hurt, but they create emotional debt, not connection.

Guilt can work in the short term, but closeness is a long game.

Adult children learn to avoid interactions that feel like a toll booth.

Try this: name the need cleanly and directly. “I’d love to spend one of the holiday days together. Would the 26th work?”

It’s astonishing how often a plain request beats a guilt-laced hint.

“Boundaries are the distance at which I can love you and me simultaneously.” — Prentis Hemphill

That line lives on a sticky note above my desk. Boundaries aren’t rejection; they’re conditions that make love sustainable.

4. Boundary blindness

Boundaries show up in how, when, and what we share.

Popping by unannounced, reading their mail, pressing for details about salary or sex life, or weighing in on their partner’s “flaws” are classic ways closeness erodes.

A lot of parents tell me, “We’re family—there shouldn’t be secrets.” I get it.

But adults get to choose what’s private. Being “in the loop” is earned by how safe it feels to be around you.

Try this: if you’re unsure whether a topic is welcome, say, “Is this okay to ask?” If the answer is no, thank them for telling you.

That single moment can plant more trust than a dozen advice sessions.

5. Not apologizing or repairing after conflict

Conflict isn’t the problem; un-repaired conflict is. Many families never learned how to circle back after a blow-up.

The result is dust under the rug—and the bump gets bigger every year.

Apologies get tricky when parents fear losing authority.

But repair doesn’t make you small; it makes you credible. “I was defensive yesterday. I’m sorry. I want to hear your side again,” is leadership, not weakness.

Try this: aim for a 24-hour repair window.

Even a short text—“I care more about us than being right. Can we reset?”—keeps the door from quietly swinging shut.

6. Low-curiosity conversations

Some parents talk at their adult children: updates, instructions, monologues.

But closeness is built on curiosity—especially about who your child is now, not who they were at sixteen.

Ask yourself: do I know the names of their closest friends, what they’re learning at work, or what they’re worried about this season?

If not, it’s a cue to swap airtime for listening.

As psychologist Carl Rogers noted, “The great majority of us cannot listen; we find ourselves compelled to evaluate.” 

When we suspend evaluation, people open up.

Try this: practice the 70/30 rule for a month—listen 70% of the time, speak 30%.

Reflect back what you heard: “So you’re excited about the new manager but anxious about the workload. Did I get that?”

Feeling understood is an instant closeness multiplier.

7. Conditional generosity

Helping with a down payment and then expecting veto power over décor.

Watching the grandkids and complaining when plans change. Offering support “with strings” keeps score and sours the gift.

If generosity turns into leverage, adult children learn to brace themselves every time you say, “I’m happy to help.”

Try this: decide up front whether a gift is a true gift. If it is, practice clean giving—no agenda, no ledger.

If you need boundaries to make it sustainable (“I can watch the kids on Fridays, not Saturdays”), state them clearly and kindly.

Predictability beats pressure.

8. Avoiding vulnerability

A lot of parents stay in “cheerleader” or “fix-it” mode and never reveal their own interior world—what they’re learning, grieving, or afraid of.

Without appropriate vulnerability, conversations can feel like a performance review.

No, you don’t need to vent every fear.

But letting your adult child see your humanity signals, “We’re peers now.” That invites them to bring their full self too.

Try this: share one story, not a saga. “I’ve been volunteering at the farmers’ market, and I didn’t realize how nervous I’d feel trying something new at this stage. It’s been good for me.”

Vulnerability without burden builds intimacy.

9. Inconsistent effort—connecting only on your terms

Some parents call only when it’s convenient, expect immediate callbacks, or disengage if the conversation doesn’t go their way.

Others insist on their preferred channel (phone) and refuse the child’s (text).

Closeness is less about grand gestures and more about steady, responsive contact.

As the Gottman Institute loves to say, “Small things often.” 

Quick check-ins, a meme that made you think of them, a “Good luck today!” text—these are bids for connection.

Try this: agree on a communication rhythm that works for both of you. “How about we do a Sunday text thread and a phone call every other week?”

Then keep it.

Reliability is love in calendar form.

Putting it all together

If a few of these stung, you’re in excellent company. Most of us (me included) default to old parenting grooves, especially under stress.

The goal isn’t perfection; it’s attunement.

Here’s a simple weekly practice I recommend:

• One repair. If there’s a frayed edge, mend it. A text counts.
• One curiosity question. “What’s lighting you up this week?”
• One boundary you respect. Even when it’s inconvenient.
• One clean bid for time. “Want to grab coffee on Saturday at 10?”

And here’s a mindset shift that changes everything: measure success not by how much influence you have, but by how safe it feels to be in relationship with you.

Safety looks like: fewer explanations required, more laughter, more unprompted sharing, and a natural ease in saying no without fallout.

A final story.

Years ago, I was mentoring a young analyst who was capable and cautious. I hovered at first, correcting spreadsheets she hadn’t asked me to review.

She got quieter.

One afternoon she said, very calmly, “I don’t learn when you redo my work.” Ouch—and thank you. I switched to asking, “Want feedback or space?”

Our relationship warmed in a month.

Adult kids are the same.

They don’t learn (or love) under a microscope.

They thrive with respect, curiosity, steady presence, and repair.

If you see yourself in these nine patterns, pick one to experiment with this week.

Maybe it’s letting them finish a story without jumping in.

Maybe it’s apologizing for that comment about their partner.

Maybe it’s switching from guilt to a clear ask for time together.

Small things, often.

That’s how closeness grows—quietly, generously, and over time.

And if you keep going, the relationship you want is closer than it feels today.