It's Not a Trend- It's Survival: Why Dismissing No Contact Harms Survivors

I've heard it countless times in the past few years: "Going no contact is just a trend," or “Everyone thinks their mother is a narcissist these days." These dismissive statements don't just sting, they're dangerous. They minimise genuine trauma, silence survivors and perpetuate the very systems that enable abuse to continue unchecked.

As someone who has lived this reality for almost 11 years of no contact, studied narcissistic abuse intensely for the past 8 years and witnessed the journeys of nearly 100,000 survivors in my community, I want to set the record straight. This isn't a trend. It's survival.

When people dismiss no contact as a modern fad, they reveal a fundamental misunderstanding of what drives this decision. No one wakes up one morning and thinks, "You know what? I'll just cut my mother out of my life for fun." Going no contact is one of the most painful, guilt-ridden and isolating decisions a person can make.

It's a last resort after years; sometimes decades, of trying everything else, setting boundaries that get trampled, seeking family therapy that gets weaponised, hoping for change that never comes. It's not trendy. It's heartbreaking. And it's often the only path to psychological survival.

The rise in no contact stories isn't because it's fashionable, it's because survivors finally have language for their experiences and platforms to share them. Social media and mental health awareness have given voice to those who were silenced for generations. What looks like a "trend" is actually the sound of survivors finally being heard.

Then there's the criticism that "narcissism" is thrown around too casually. Critics argue that people are too quick to label difficult behaviour as narcissistic, diluting the term's meaning. However, for most survivors, calling their parent a narcissist isn't the beginning of their journey, it's the end of a long, painful process of recognition.

Before I understood my mother's behaviour as narcissistic, I spent years blaming myself. I thought I was too sensitive, too demanding, too much. I internalised her criticism and carried the shame of never being good enough. Learning about narcissistic personality patterns wasn't about finding someone to blame, it was about finding a framework that finally made sense of my reality.

Yes, not every difficult parent is a narcissist. But dismissing survivors' experiences because "everyone uses that word now" is another form of gaslighting. It tells us, yet again, that our perceptions can't be trusted.

I didn't go no contact lightly. For years, I tried to make our relationship work. I set boundaries, she bulldozed them. I held onto hope that she would change, but she consistently chose her patterns over our connection.

Going no contact wasn't about punishment, it was about protection. And in those 11 years of silence, something profound happened- I healed. Without the constant chaos, criticism and manipulation, I could finally hear my own voice. I could rebuild my self-worth from the ground up. I could learn what healthy relationships actually feel like.

This healing journey led me to study narcissistic abuse extensively for eight years. I immersed myself in research, trauma-informed therapy models and the lived experiences of thousands of survivors. I wrote my memoir The Narcissist's Daughter not from a place of trendy victimhood, but from a place of hard-won wisdom.

When society dismisses no contact as a trend or minimises the reality of narcissistic abuse, it causes real harm:

It keeps survivors trapped. When we're told our experiences aren't "that bad" or we're "overreacting," we second-guess our instincts and stay in harmful situations longer.

It perpetuates shame. Survivors already carry enormous guilt about distancing themselves from family. Societal judgment adds another layer of shame to an already painful decision.

It enables abusers. When narcissistic behaviour is minimised or excused as "difficult parenting," abusers face no accountability for their actions.

It isolates survivors. When our experiences are dismissed as trendy or exaggerated, we retreat further into silence, believing no one will understand or support us.

To Fellow Survivors

If you've made the difficult decision to go no contact, you don't owe anyone an explanation or justification. Your healing isn't a trend, it's a necessity. Your boundaries aren't drama, they're self-preservation. Your truth isn't an overreaction, it's your lived reality.

Don't let anyone convince you that protecting your mental health is fashionable or frivolous. The path to healing isn't popular or easy. It's sacred work that requires immense courage.

To Those Who Haven't Lived It

Before dismissing no contact as a trend, consider this- What would it take for someone to walk away from their mother? What level of pain, exhaustion and hopelessness would drive that decision? The answer isn't a social media trend, it's trauma so deep that cutting ties feels like the only way to survive.

Instead of judgment, offer curiosity. Instead of dismissal, offer support. The survivors in your life aren't following a fad, they're fighting for their lives.

After nearly 11 years of no contact and 8 years of intensive study, I can say with certainty, this isn't about being trendy or dramatic. It's about recognising that some relationships are so toxic they poison everything they touch. It's about understanding that sometimes the most loving thing you can do, for yourself and even for the abuser, is to step away.

My journey from survivor to advocate wasn't paved with trends or buzzwords. It was built on the solid foundation of boundaries, healing and the hard-won knowledge that comes from both living through trauma and dedicating your life to understanding it.

To the 100,000 survivors in my community and the countless others walking this path, your experience is valid. Your healing is necessary. And your courage to break cycles that have lasted generations isn't a trend, it's a revolution.

Love and Healing,

Kylie