The prolonged adolescence of our young people has left many parents struggling to navigate their relationships with adult children. Research from Cambridge University reveals that the adolescent phase can last until age 32, leaving parents wondering what they did wrong and how to adapt.
This extended period of not-quite-adulthood represents both vulnerability and opportunity for our children. Parents often find themselves in a crisis when one of their daughters turned 18, as it hit my relationship with her like a stormy weather. The pain was so intense that I, as a psychotherapist, struggled to bear it.
As time passed, I realized that I needed guidance on how to navigate this new terrain. However, I found almost nothing in terms of information that helped me make sense of this complex situation. That's when I remembered the term "emerging adulthood" coined by psychologist Jeffrey Arnett, which describes the years between 18 and 25 as a phase of exploration and uncertainty.
This phase is not evidence of moral decline but a developmental shift that reflects a radically different world. Technology, social change, and women's rights have transformed what it means to grow up. The statistics tell us that about a third of young adults aged 18 to 34 live with their parents, while nearly 60% of parents financially support an adult child.
As I worked with my daughter Sarah, who had moved back home after university, we struggled to navigate this new dynamic. She felt trapped between love and resentment, while I felt exhausted from years of hypervigilance. We eventually broke through when Sarah began to see that her anxiety drove her behavior, not Tom's actual need.
We worked on setting clear boundaries and expectations, and gradually, they adapted. The atmosphere at home lightened as Sarah started doing less for Tom and more for herself. She realized she'd been so busy giving that she'd never let him give back. This shift from anxious manager to respectful witness was a hard task, but one that helped us rebuild our relationship.
The key is clarity, not control. Parents must have explicit conversations about money, chores, privacy, and expectations. Boundaries matter, and it's the unspoken assumptions that often lead to conflict. Young adults themselves identify aspects that support their return home, such as clear expectations discussed openly, meaningful contributions to the household, being treated as adults rather than teenagers, and an exit plan with timelines.
This change is a tough gig, but one that requires deep psychological work. Parents must learn to love the child they have, not the one they imagined or would choose. They must listen fully, respect their autonomy, and offer wisdom only when asked. The real work is to let go of control without letting go of connection.
As we navigate this complex terrain, we must also confront our own trauma from the past. Unprocessed trauma can be passed down through generations, making us more reactive. Parents must recognize the trauma they carry and aim to process it not only for themselves but for their entire family system.
When worldviews diverge – politics, religion, gender or lifestyle choices – parents often struggle. They ask me in therapy how we raised someone who sees the world so differently from us. This situation calls for humility and love, which means allowing differences rather than trying to win arguments. Curiosity is the antidote: ask rather than tell.
Ultimately, our influence endures not in our opinions but in how we embody love, respect, integrity, and kindness. We helped write the relational map that lives inside our children, so trust it and trust them.
This extended period of not-quite-adulthood represents both vulnerability and opportunity for our children. Parents often find themselves in a crisis when one of their daughters turned 18, as it hit my relationship with her like a stormy weather. The pain was so intense that I, as a psychotherapist, struggled to bear it.
As time passed, I realized that I needed guidance on how to navigate this new terrain. However, I found almost nothing in terms of information that helped me make sense of this complex situation. That's when I remembered the term "emerging adulthood" coined by psychologist Jeffrey Arnett, which describes the years between 18 and 25 as a phase of exploration and uncertainty.
This phase is not evidence of moral decline but a developmental shift that reflects a radically different world. Technology, social change, and women's rights have transformed what it means to grow up. The statistics tell us that about a third of young adults aged 18 to 34 live with their parents, while nearly 60% of parents financially support an adult child.
As I worked with my daughter Sarah, who had moved back home after university, we struggled to navigate this new dynamic. She felt trapped between love and resentment, while I felt exhausted from years of hypervigilance. We eventually broke through when Sarah began to see that her anxiety drove her behavior, not Tom's actual need.
We worked on setting clear boundaries and expectations, and gradually, they adapted. The atmosphere at home lightened as Sarah started doing less for Tom and more for herself. She realized she'd been so busy giving that she'd never let him give back. This shift from anxious manager to respectful witness was a hard task, but one that helped us rebuild our relationship.
The key is clarity, not control. Parents must have explicit conversations about money, chores, privacy, and expectations. Boundaries matter, and it's the unspoken assumptions that often lead to conflict. Young adults themselves identify aspects that support their return home, such as clear expectations discussed openly, meaningful contributions to the household, being treated as adults rather than teenagers, and an exit plan with timelines.
This change is a tough gig, but one that requires deep psychological work. Parents must learn to love the child they have, not the one they imagined or would choose. They must listen fully, respect their autonomy, and offer wisdom only when asked. The real work is to let go of control without letting go of connection.
As we navigate this complex terrain, we must also confront our own trauma from the past. Unprocessed trauma can be passed down through generations, making us more reactive. Parents must recognize the trauma they carry and aim to process it not only for themselves but for their entire family system.
When worldviews diverge – politics, religion, gender or lifestyle choices – parents often struggle. They ask me in therapy how we raised someone who sees the world so differently from us. This situation calls for humility and love, which means allowing differences rather than trying to win arguments. Curiosity is the antidote: ask rather than tell.
Ultimately, our influence endures not in our opinions but in how we embody love, respect, integrity, and kindness. We helped write the relational map that lives inside our children, so trust it and trust them.