Why I Realised Cutting Ties with My Family Was the Best Thing for My Mental Health

I’m writing this from the south of France — the place I always imagined would feel like home. It’s where my parents and two of my sisters live. It’s where I’ve spent countless summers, family meals, and late-night conversations. And yet, this time, the feeling is different.

Because here’s the truth: the last few years have been difficult. My parents (my dad is 89 and my mum is 83) and siblings have always had their share of disagreements, but lately those arguments have turned into something more toxic. They fight with each other, not with me directly, but the atmosphere they create feels heavy — so heavy that it’s impossible to ignore.

I used to feel sorry for my parents. I used to believe it was my role to mediate, smooth things over, and keep everyone together as I live in the UK and far from them. But somewhere along the way, I realised that every time I got close to that emotional storm, it left me drained, frustrated, and short-tempered with the people who truly matter to me: my wife and kids.

Last week, I made a decision: enough is enough. It was time to step back.

The Moment It Clicked for Me

This summer, we came down to the south of France for the holidays. As always, I expected to spend some time with my parents and sisters. But before I’d even unpacked my bag, the drama had started. Huge arguments erupted between them (not involving me), and the air felt thick with resentment.

One evening, after yet another round of shouting in the background, I walked along the river (where we are staying) with my wife. And it hit me:
I don’t need to be in the middle of this. I don’t need to feel the tension that isn’t mine to carry. I don’t need to spend my holidays absorbing other people’s anger.

I have my own life, my own family, and my own peace to protect.

Protecting My Wife and Kids

Here’s the thing: toxic family relationships don’t just affect you. They bleed into your marriage, your parenting, your friendships, even your work. I realised that every time I got caught up in my parents’ and siblings’ drama, I came home distracted and irritable.

My wife didn’t deserve that. My kids didn’t deserve that.
And frankly — neither did I.

So I decided to set a boundary. Not a dramatic, “never speak to me again” kind of cut-off. More like… turning down the volume. Keeping contact polite and minimal. Choosing when and how I engage, and making sure it doesn’t cost me my mental health.

Why Boundaries Aren’t Cruel

I used to believe that keeping your distance from family was cold, even ungrateful. That somehow, being a “good” son or brother meant showing up no matter how much it hurt you.

But boundaries aren’t about punishment. They’re about protection.

When you put some distance between yourself and a toxic situation, you’re not saying “I don’t care.” You’re saying, “I care enough about my own wellbeing — and the wellbeing of the people I love — to not let this damage me.”

And the result?
I feel lighter. My anxiety levels drop. I sleep better. I enjoy my days without feeling like I’m walking on eggshells. I can actually be present for my wife and kids instead of mentally replaying someone else’s argument.

Accepting That You Can’t Change People

One of the hardest lessons for me has been accepting that I can’t change my family. No matter how many times I offer advice, try to calm things down, or act as the “peacemaker,” the cycle repeats.

At some point, you have to stop asking: “What can I do to fix them?” and start asking: “What can I do to protect myself?”

For me, the answer was simple — stop putting myself in situations where I’m forced to absorb that toxic energy. I can still love them from a distance. I can still wish them well. But I don’t have to sit front-row to every argument.

Life Feels Lighter Now

Since stepping back, even here in the middle of our holiday in France, I already feel more like myself. I’m calmer, more focused on enjoying each day, and I have the energy to plan outings with my kids, laugh with my wife, and actually enjoy the south of France without the constant weight of someone else’s chaos on my chest. The change hasn’t been instant — the guilt of “abandoning” my role in the family still flickers now and then — but it’s fading fast. The truth is, I’m not abandoning anyone. I’m finally showing up for myself. And right now, it feels so much better.

If You’re In the Same Situation

If you’re reading this and thinking, “That’s me”, I want to tell you something important: it’s okay to choose peace over family drama. It’s okay to set boundaries. It’s okay to step back.

You’re not selfish for protecting your mental health. You’re not cruel for saying “no more” to toxic patterns. In fact, it might be the kindest thing you can do — for yourself and for the people who rely on you.

We don’t choose the family we’re born into, but we do get to choose how much power their behaviour has over our lives.

Final Thought
I still love my parents and siblings. But loving them doesn’t mean sacrificing my own peace. And if creating distance is what it takes to protect that peace, then that’s exactly what I’ll keep doing.

Because at the end of the day, the family I go home to — my wife and my kids — is the family that needs me at my best.

Jerome.

Jerome is the writer behind dapperandgroomed.com, a men’s lifestyle blog he’s been running since 2013. At 51, he’s the proud father of four young children. Originally from the south of France near Toulouse, he now lives in Bristol, UK.