'Sam and Marie have been estranged for years. Here's how I got them speaking again.'

The relationship between a mother and daughter is arguably one of the most complex bonds in a woman's life. It can be a source of unconditional love, a blueprint for identity, or, for many, a source of deep, lasting pain.

In fact, estrangement between mothers and daughters is something Mamamia hears about so often. It was one of the reasons for creating our podcast, This Is Why We Fight.

Watch: This Is Why We Fight lets you listen in on real life therapy. Post continues after video.

For Sam*, a 38-year-old nurse and mother, and her mother Marie*, a 59-year-old nurse, their relationship had been strained for years, ruptured by early childhood trauma, a difficult divorce and a lack of emotional connection.

The emotional distance left Sam feeling unheard and angry. Marie, meanwhile, was grieving the loss of connection with her daughter and grandchildren and was desperate to repair the bond.

As the therapist tasked with guiding their initial two sessions, I immediately saw the high stakes. This wasn't just about mending a family, it was about proving that change, even after decades of hurt, is possible.

The problem: A lifelong lack of emotional safety.

When Sam approached our sessions, her core motivation wasn't necessarily reconciliation, but a desperate, final attempt for clarity. For years, she had felt a profound lack of love and safety, and carried the heavy burden of being "parentified", forced into an inappropriate carer role for her younger siblings, and even sometimes her mother, from a young age.

This early experience created an anxious attachment style and a belief that she was "never enough". It wasn't about the later, messy details of Marie's divorce from Sam's father; those messy fights in court were just a small part of a much deeper, older issue for Sam.

Marie, however, saw the estrangement largely stemming from the breakdown of her marriage and the ensuing fallout from that. She confessed that she had deliberately withheld explanations from her children out of fear.

This misalignment was the first major roadblock: Marie was ready to apologise for the divorce fallout and her ensuing withdrawal, but Sam was blocked by 38 years of mistrust.

She felt Marie's tearful apologies and immediate self-focus sounded too much like a "script," or a performance designed to elicit sympathy, rather than genuine accountability for the root issues. Sam desperately needed honesty and transparency, even if it meant hearing, "I can't come," instead of a fear-driven lie.

My role: Holding the space for truth.

In the first session, I chose to be a gentle presence and a boundary holder, intervening only to ensure they stayed respectful and on track. My biggest job was to try and break a core communication pattern I observed:

• Marie's self-focus: Whenever Sam articulated her pain, Marie immediately shifted the focus back to her own feelings, often leading with "I'm sorry," "I feel guilty," or sharing her own suffering.

• Sam's reaction: This caused Sam to retreat. To her, Marie's guilt sounded like another attempt to make Sam the emotional caretaker—forcing Sam back into the role of saying, "It's okay," a dynamic she was tired of.

This dynamic meant Marie's true accountability was lost because Sam couldn't receive it without feeling her emotions came second to Marie's.

Listen to the full podcast episode with Sam and Marie here. Post continues after audio.

The homework: Clarity and consistency.

The breakthrough came with simple, highly targeted homework designed to give Sam the clarity and control she needed, and give Marie a practical focus to shift her behaviour.

Homework for Marie: The why.

Marie was asked to reflect deeply and outline the reasons why she wasn't able to show the nurturing and maternal care Sam needed in her early years. This was explicitly not about excuses, but about honest self-reflection for Sam's healing.

Marie's second session answer was remarkable. She connected her mothering struggles to her own childhood feelings of inadequacy, believing she was having children simply "that would love me" without having to try much. This moment of true insight explained that Marie's struggles were about her own inability to nurture, not a lack of love for Sam.

Homework for Sam: Practical steps forward.

Sam was asked to define the contours of a potential, manageable relationship, focusing on the safest entry point: the grandmother role.

Sam articulated practical boundaries:

• A "grandmother role" (not mother): This lowers the pressure and focuses the relationship on her daughter, acting as a crucial buffer.

• Virtual contact first: Start with phone calls or messages to build familiarity and safety before in-person visits.

• Respectful organisation: No unannounced visits and ample time for Sam's nervous system to prepare for any interstate travel or meetings.

The universal takeaways: Wisdom for every woman.

The journey of Sam and Marie offers powerful lessons for anyone navigating complex family dynamics:

• Anger, the Barrier to Empathy: Sam's training in healthcare meant she had boundless empathy for strangers, but none for her mother—because anger and pain were necessary shields against being hurt again by the one person who could hurt her the most. Empathy often follows validation; it cannot be forced.

• Emotional Flooding Kills Communication: When Marie was emotionally flooded, she defaulted to self-focus and defensiveness, which immediately shut Sam down. To be heard, you must first be genuinely willing to hear the other person and validate their reality and put aside the emotional response within you in hearing it.

• Consistency is the New Currency of Trust: For deep wounds to heal, apologies must be followed by changed behaviour. For Marie, this meant focusing on consistency, communication, and following through on promises.

• It's Never Too Late: Marie, coming from a generation that was less open to therapy, found profound insight later in life. The key is that they started at all. Sam and Marie showed that even when one person feels "too tired" and the other is riddled with fear, taking that first "baby step" is an enormous achievement.

The ultimate hope for Sam and Marie is that they continue this work, trusting that if a "little bump comes along in the road," they will talk about it honestly, as two adults having a respectful conversation, rather than reverting to old, painful patterns.

*Names have been changed for privacy.

Read more about family estrangement:

• 'Two of my kids have gone completely no-contact with me. Now I know why.'

• 'I've been estranged from my mum for 10 years. Here's how I learned to cope.'

• "I have more important people to love." I don't love my mother. But she didn't love me first.

Feature image: Canva.