Estrangement Ideology – Part 51. Live Performances of Estrangement Ideology
Case studies in comment threads illustrating Estrangement Ideology in action.
This is the fifty-first in a series of articles concerning Estrangement Ideology. Key concepts are introduced in Part 1. Tenets, Goals and Methods; Part 2. Transgressions, Moral Certitude and Traditional Values; and Part 3. The One-Sided Path to Redemption. Other parts can be found here.
Part 50 of this series examined how Dr Sarah Davies book “Raised by Narcissists: How to Handle Your Difficult, Toxic and Abusive Parents” functions as a therapeutic vessel for Estrangement Ideology—providing a step-by-step reframing of family memory, reinterpreting conflict as pathology, and sanctifying severance as recovery. But books like these do not operate in isolation; they gain traction and authority through a surrounding culture that performs and reinforces their assumptions.
This article examines real-time ideological performances in public comment threads on this Substack, through two significant interactions involving comments by users identified as JM and The Long Game. These comments, appended to article Part. 20. The "No Contact" Double Bind for Parents, reveal a highly stylised enforcement of ideological purity that frames estranged parents as emotionally immature, irredeemable and solely responsible for family breakdowns.
Drawing from prior articles in this series the following discussion shows how these exchanges serve as microcosms of the ideology in action. They illustrate mechanisms of rhetorical control, ideological reinforcement and moral absolutism that suppress ambivalence and preclude mutual understanding. The comment threads represent not just responses to content but performative reassertions of power, blame and ideological loyalty, demonstrating how the ideology functions as a closed system of validation and enforcement.
PDF copy of the main comment thread featuring JM’s comments and one of The Long Game’s:
Beyond Disagreement—Toward Rhetorical Ritual
Examining JM’s and The Long Game’s responses it is evident that they are not mere rebuttals but ideological performances. Both restate and reify the tenets of Estrangement Ideology as documented in earlier parts of this series—particularly the requirement for unilateral parental transformation (Part 3. The One-Sided Path to Redemption), the ideological weaponisation of emotional language (Part 9. The Emotional Immaturity Paradox), and the culturally induced “no-win scenario” faced by estranged parents (Part. 20. The "No Contact" Double Bind for Parents).
The diagnostic trap – JM’s comments as a case study in ideological closure:
JM’s argumentation relies heavily on circular reasoning and rhetorical absolutism, framing any dissent or emotional complexity as confirmation of parental guilt rather than engaging with the substance of the critique. Their use of psychological terminology functions not to illuminate but to pathologise, turning disagreement into diagnostic evidence and foreclosing the possibility of mutual understanding.
Their comments offer a textbook case of what can be termed as ideological discourse enclosure: where disagreement is not met with argument but diagnosis, and all potential dialogue is subsumed by a moral script. While framed as rebuttal, JM’s reply performs ritualised invalidation—recasting critique not as engagement but as proof of guilt. The strategy hinges on the concept of emotional immaturity, which JM asserts is not a general framework but a clinically fixed label applied to all estranged parents:
“Estranged parents demonstrate a lack of empathy or perspective taking… That is emotional immaturity.”
“Deflection is emotional immaturity.”
“Refusing to reflect upon patterns… is emotional immaturity.”
JM uses this term not as a hypothesis, but as an all-encompassing umbrella under which any parental experience—confusion, disagreement, sadness and moral objection—is pathologised in advance. Even the act of questioning estrangement becomes diagnostic evidence. When a parent expresses frustration or seeks explanation, it is reframed as manipulation:
“Claiming an inability to define accountability is lazy and, again, emotionally immature/ignorant.”
“You conveniently ignore the point already made.”
This is not rhetorical persuasion—it is moral entrapment. The logic is unfalsifiable. If the parent objects to the framing, that proves they’re not doing “the work.” If they don’t object, they are still guilty by omission. As Part 20 explains, this rhetorical device ensures that estranged parents are always already guilty—because every action or inaction confirms their failure.
Moreover, JM turns even misunderstanding itself into evidence of pathology:
“Within the realm of emotional immaturity is the inability to address misunderstandings. As already stated, there is the inability of the emotionally immature parent to self reflect, have empathy or see the perspective of the unique human being on the receiving end of their parenting. THAT is where misunderstandings derive.”
By this logic, no relational ambiguity can exist—only dysfunction. This matches precisely what Part 46. Unearthing the Architecture identified in estrangement spaces like EAK: a discursive structure where emotional complexity is re-coded as harm, and where relational nuance is flattened into symbolic categories of perpetrator and survivor.
Perhaps most revealing is JM’s explicit rejection of discourse:
“It is entirely intended to shut it down because it is not helpful to the discourse… Should you change your perspective… perhaps there is a dialogue to be had.”
This statement lays bare the ideological impulse not to engage in reciprocal dialogue, but to pre-emptively disqualify alternative framings. JM does not simply disagree—they define disagreement as unworthy of engagement unless it conforms to their moral framing. As explored in Part 3, this reflects a core dynamic of the ideology: where the goal is not mutual understanding, but moral purification through submission. Reconciliation is thus reframed as a test of obedience, and unless the estranged parent accepts the dominant narrative in full, no dialogue is permitted—only judgment.
The rejection of cultural critique is similarly revealing. JM dismisses all discussion of social or ideological framing as:
“Propaganda… ignorance… a lack of credibility or good faith.”
Even the possibility that estrangement is being shaped, encouraged or normalised by therapeutic discourse or online communities is declared beyond the bounds of legitimate inquiry. JM writes:
“Blaming online communities for any perceived expansion in estrangement is again an ignorant deflection.”
“Trying to clap back against those communities is an act of oppression… It is an abusive position.”
This doctrinal framing shifts the discourse from the terrain of reason to the theatre of moral loyalty: if you question the dogma, you become the abuser.
Finally, the rhetorical crescendo arrives in the closing lines:
“I have no interest in reading any of your other ‘parts’… I have read enough to recognize a lack of credibility.”
This is the ideological litmus test: refusal to engage, refusal to entertain complexity, refusal to acknowledge that an estranged parent might speak in good faith. What matters is not what is said, but whether it conforms.
In reviewing the discussions in online forums like EAK, it is evident that JM’s language is not an outlier—it is entirely typical. It performs the very dynamics this series has mapped: the moral simplification of relational pain, the ritual invalidation of opposing voices and the transformation of estrangement from a boundary into a doctrine. This is the rhetoric of no return—where dialogue becomes taboo, and empathy is reserved only for those who already agree.
The Long Game – Ritual humiliation and ideological triumph:
Where JM’s rhetorical strategy revolves around diagnostic authority, The Long Game represents a more emotionally unrestrained but equally ideologically saturated performance—one that channels ritual humiliation and punitive moralism to achieve ideological closure. Their comment, framed as a retort to an estranged grandfather’s moral reflection, escalates from prescriptive instruction to gleeful condemnation.
The opening appears to extend practical advice:
“What you have to do is overhaul your character and apologize in full for what you did wrong and offer specific ways to make it up to them.”
This isn’t dialogue—it’s a mandate. The implication is clear: the only path to dignity is total submission. There is no negotiation, no acknowledgement of complexity, rights and wrongs or grief. Estranged parents are not allowed uncertainty, pain or a learning curve. They must conform to a script that presumes guilt in advance and permits no resistance.
When the recipient doesn’t immediately comply, the tone shifts:
“But no, you'd rather pretend that you're some kind of hero for refusing to do your part.”
“Stop making excuses for being lazy. Fix the relationship. You know how to do it. You've been told. You refuse.”
This move from instruction to condemnation is a rhetorical sleight of hand: the parent’s resistance is not framed as confusion or hurt but as moral laziness. In this model, estrangement is no longer an act of grief or rupture—it becomes a stage on which moral virtue is performed by the adult child and moral degradation is projected onto the parent.
Just as Part 3 observed, reconciliation is framed as the sole responsibility of the parent—and often as a test of submission rather than a mutual process. The parent must atone on terms that are fixed, non-negotiable and frequently symbolic. Any attempt to engage in dialogue or defend their perspective is seen as “deflection”, “DARVO” or “refusing the work”—and to refuse the work is to confirm their unworthiness.
The Long Game doesn’t stop at this. The next rhetorical shift is toward personal attack and strawman projection:
“Leave it to an abuser to think that apologizing is being submissive. What a twisted, backward thought.”
This statement introduces a classic false binary: either you accept total moral culpability, or you are defending abuse. The possibility that a parent might see reconciliation as something mutual, or that they might fear losing dignity in the process, is not permitted. There is no distinction between relational difficulty and abuse—a recurring hallmark of the ideology.
But perhaps the most ideologically revealing segment is in the celebration of social and emotional destruction:
“The glorious thing is that these abusers are entering a hell of their own design…”
“So then they all develop a feeling of betrayal toward each other. And now they are REALLY alone in their own little glass boxes…”
“Betrayal doesn't feel very good does it, creeps? Nope, but survivors proudly proclaim that victory certainly does!”
This is no longer commentary—it is vengeful narrative theatre. The estranged parent is no longer just misguided or flawed—they are “creeps”, “abusers” and symbolic enemies of progress. The imagery of people screaming in glass boxes while others “point and laugh” reveals the depth of retributive fantasy within Estrangement Ideology’s performative fringe. Here, the ideology no longer pretends to protect—it punishes.
This performance is directly aligned with the dynamics mapped in Part 33. Forum Psychology: What’s Missing? and Part 34: Online Forum Psychological Profile, where estrangement forums—lacking many of the positive aspects of human emotionality—reward moral purity, punitive certainty and emotional spectacle. Like JM, The Long Game uses ritualised certainty to collapse nuance. But they go further: they convert estrangement into a moral triumph, where the pain of the parent is no longer unfortunate but deserved—proof that justice has been done.
In this light, The Long Game does not simply comment—they enact Estrangement Ideology’s final logic: exile without empathy, pain without dialogue and punishment as progress.
Parallels to r/EstrangedAdultKids: The Subreddit as Ideological Incubator
The rhetorical style on display in the JM and The Long Game threads is not anomalous—it mirrors the dominant communicative norms of the EAK subreddit, one of the most active online estrangement communities. As analysed in Part 34 and Part 46, EAK functions as a tightly controlled echo chamber, where certain linguistic markers and narrative structures are rewarded, and deviations from the ideological script are swiftly sanctioned.
The comment threads reflect these norms in both tone and content: the use of clinicalised moral language (such as “emotional immaturity”, “abuser”, “doing the work”), the rigid interpretive frames—“If they protest, that proves they’re guilty”—and the performance of estrangement as not just boundary-setting, but a form of righteous exile. Common EAK refrains—such as “They made their bed, let them lie in it” or “Respect is earned, not given”—are echoed in The Long Game’s dramatic and somewhat apocalyptic phrase:
“They are entering a hell of their own design… no one can hear them scream.”
This isn’t simply personal expression; it is ideologically sanctioned catharsis.
These discursive patterns are not isolated outbursts. They are ritualised ideological performances, drawn from a shared online vocabulary that equates emotional nuance with weakness, relational repair with betrayal and parental subjectivity with manipulation. The comments examined here are live-action replays of the EAK script—expressions of identity, belief and belonging within a subcultural moral framework.
Borrowed Scripts: Issendai, Narcissistic Parent Narratives and the Echoes of Pop-Therapy
The rhetorical performances by JM and The Long Game do not emerge in a vacuum. Their framing of estrangement as a moral necessity, their diagnostic certainty, and their refusal to entertain relational nuance are deeply indebted to a lineage of therapeutic and online literature that has popularised specific narratives about family dysfunction. Among the (many) influential sources behind this shift one can count Issendai’s 2015 blog post “The Missing Missing Reasons” and Lindsay Gibson’s 2015 book Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents.
Issendai’s blog post created a viral interpretive framework: estranged parents are not confused or hurting—they are manipulative, controlling and self-pitying. Its key claim—that parent forums are "filled with abusers looking for validation"—has become a foundational meme in estrangement culture, frequently repeated, paraphrased or insinuated in threads like JM’s:
“Estranged parents deflect to external factors for the estrangement versus relational-based factors… This is a consistent finding from the body of academic research.”
In reality, while Issendai’s diagnosis draws on no such comprehensive body of academic research, the tone of confident omniscience—a hallmark of Issendai’s piece—is mirrored in JM’s and The Long Game’s comments, where disagreement itself is framed as moral failing, and the parent’s perspective is inherently invalid.
Similarly, pop-psychology literature—like Gibson’s book and the recently published “Raised by Narcissists: How to Handle Your Difficult, Toxic and Abusive Parents” by therapist Dr Sarah Davies (subject of Part 50)—has contributed to this framework by offering simplified emotional typologies: parents are either emotionally attuned or toxic; boundaries are either weak or strong; reconciliation is either growth or regression. Phrases like “the narcissistic parent” or “the emotionally immature, unavailable or selfish parent” have been imported into estrangement communities and comment threads where it is no longer treated as metaphor or guidance, but as diagnostic truth.
We see this clearly in The Long Game’s rhetoric:
“Leave it to an abuser to think that apologizing is being submissive. What a twisted, backward thought.” [emphasis added]
Here, the invocation of the word “abuser” is not dependent on any behavioural description—it is symbolic shorthand for moral condemnation. The term operates not as a descriptor of conduct, but as a fixed identity: once labelled, the parent is beyond redemption. This moral absolutism reflects the flattening effect of Issendai’s blog and books like Gibson’s and Davies’: they encourage categorical reasoning over relational complexity and offer scripts that community members adopt and redeploy with ritual conviction.
This is not to suggest that such resources are inherently harmful—but in online estrangement culture, their therapeutic language is weaponised to enforce ideological conformity. Instead of aiding self-reflection, the language becomes a firewall against doubt, enabling users like JM and The Long Game to position their views not as opinions, but as evidence-based facts—when in reality, they are culturally reinforced beliefs shaped by popular media, social media validation loops and ideologically homogeneous forums.
The power of these imported narratives lies not only in what they say—but in how widely and unquestioningly they are believed. They offer ready-made explanations, rhetorical shortcuts and a sense of moral clarity in situations that are often anything but.
The result is not just the replication of language; but the internalisation of ideology—estrangement becomes not one option among many, but the correct psychological response, the only morally defensible path, and the endpoint of a journey that began with a diagnosis—real or imagined.
Discussion: When Estrangement Becomes Identity
The interactions examined in this article are more than comment threads; they are ritual performances of ideological belonging. JM and The Long Game do not simply disagree with the idea that estrangement can be misapplied or culturally reinforced—they actively police the boundaries of what may be said, felt or believed. Their responses are not isolated emotional reactions; they are deeply structured by the rhetorical and moral logic of Estrangement Ideology.
These spaces—whether Reddit forums, Breakaway wikis or comment sections—operate less as venues for exploration and more as ideological enclosures, where estrangement is framed not as a painful relational rupture but as an act of moral clarity, a declaration of self-sovereignty. Over time, this narrative logic reshapes the estranged individual's experience: estrangement ceases to be an event and becomes an identity.
This is the theme explored in Part 12: The Estranged Adult Child Identity, which traced how therapeutic culture, trauma discourse and online communities combine to offer the adult child not just affirmation but a new subject position. In these spaces, to be estranged is not merely to have left a relationship—it is to inhabit a worldview, a tribe, a moral stance. The role of “Estranged Adult Child” comes with a script: vocabulary, heroes, villains, rituals of reinforcement and a repertoire of permissible emotions (anger, grief, pride, distain) carefully segregated from impermissible ones (regret, hope, love, caring).
JM and The Long Game embody this identity script. Their rhetoric reveals how deeply it is internalised:
“It is entirely intended to shut it down because it is not helpful to the discourse nor to any actual level of true understanding.” (JM)
“These abusers are entering a hell of their own design… Betrayal doesn’t feel very good does it, creeps? Nope, but survivors proudly proclaim that victory certainly does!” (The Long Game)
These are not just emotionally charged responses—they are identity-affirming rituals. By condemning estranged parents as "abusers", "lazy" or "emotionally immature", and by celebrating their suffering as "victory", the commenters reframe personal trauma through the lens of moral purification. The world becomes binary: survivors vs perpetrators, growth vs toxicity, self-affirmation vs emotional compromise.
The use of psychological terminology functions not to illuminate but to pathologise, turning disagreement into diagnostic evidence and foreclosing the possibility of mutual understanding—yet, as argued in Part 17. The Lasting Emotional and Relational Toll on Estranged Adult Children and Part 32. The Unfillable Void, this rigid framing often delivers not closure but emotional limbo, where healing is stalled, nuance is cast as betrayal and even the longed-for apology, once received, feels strangely hollow.
What’s more, the redefinition of pain as proof—grief as confirmation of trauma, guilt as FOG (fear, obligation and guilt) residue, regret as a danger to boundaries—traps the individual in a closed feedback loop. There is no path back from estrangement, only further entrenchment. Doubt becomes dangerous. Empathy toward a parent becomes betrayal of the self.
This is where identity fuses with ideology. The power of this framework lies in its psychological totality: the individual’s emotional landscape is reinterpreted, their story retrofitted, their relationships reorganised. And because this identity is constantly reinforced in communities that reward ideological purity, there is little room for questioning. Emotional ambivalence—once a normal feature of family estrangement—is replaced with ritual certainty, and any deviation from the narrative is quickly pathologised, often by peers.
In the end, what began as an escape from relational pain may result in the loss of emotional complexity itself. As this article has shown, the scripts handed down by forums, books, blogs and therapeutic memes often replace reflective dialogue with performance, empathy with judgment and grief with ritual condemnation.
When estrangement becomes identity, the individual may win the narrative war—but lose the inner dialogue that made healing possible.
Finally – The Rhetoric of No Return
These comment threads are not just disagreements—they are ideological enactments, where the language of trauma and healing is deployed not to explore or reconcile, but to assert orthodoxy and close moral ranks. In the performances of JM and The Long Game, we witness Estrangement Ideology in its most crystallised form: punitive, certain and emotionally impermeable.
As shown above, these are not spontaneous personal expressions, but scripted roles—roles shaped by the rhetorical templates of Issendai’s Missing Missing Reasons, the diagnostic categories of Raised by Narcissists and the online echo chambers that reward totalising narratives over relational nuance. What was once a coping strategy becomes, over time, a collective creed, with set phrases, fixed roles and an internal logic that transforms parental confusion into proof of guilt and grief into ideological triumph.
This transformation is not without consequence. For estranged parents, the “one-sided path to redemption” is not just a cultural trend—it is an existential trap. The desire to reconcile, to understand, or even to grieve relational loss is framed as evidence of manipulation, toxicity or entitlement. Parents are placed in a double bind: silence is interpreted as abandonment, but contact is framed as coercion. There is no path back, only further suspicion.
Moreover, the estranged adult child is also reshaped in this process—not merely supported in their boundaries, but recruited into a new moral identity, one that rewards control and certainty over reflection and relational growth. Emotional complexity becomes suspect. Hope is pathologised. Dialogue is rebranded as danger.
In these comment threads, we do not merely see the pain of estrangement—we see its ideological capture. The emotional rawness is real, but it is no longer explored; it is ritualised. Estrangement becomes a banner under which pain is converted into righteousness, where to question the script is to betray the self.
This is the rhetoric of no return—not because reconciliation is always impossible, but because the very desire for it has been ideologically disqualified.
Note: This article was developed with assistance of ChatGPT, used as a structured analysis and writing tool. All ideas, interpretations and final outputs were authored, verified and edited by me. The model was conditioned to reflect my reasoning, not to generate content independently.
Honestly these EC are just stuck in their never ending swirl of negativity. They see as bad or evil everyone who doesn’t agree completely with them or make them feel safe at all times. And they simply reinforce their own thought patterns over and over. They’re actually so insecure that they compensate by casting themselves as judges of everything. They blow up any perceived misdeeds of others, but don’t have the self awareness to look at their own behavior in the slightest. Someone besides them is always at fault.
I truly believe we’re beginning to see many parents moving on from this nonsense. More and more I’m reading of parents reclaiming their lives, tired of the cruelty, manipulation or stonewalling from EC, realizing it never gets better anyway. They’re not giving the grudge collectors any more energy. Ruminating about all the things someone else doesn’t like about you gets old, boring actually. These EC have made themselves so unlikeable that no one misses them anymore.
Oh yes. During COVID I took an online course in personality disorders, which used social media (mainly Quora) posts to examine the DSM traits of those who have been formally diagnosed. The handy thing was that the people who wrote the posts in a format not protected by HIPPA, they provided their diagnosis, and then they (inadvertently) illustrated it.
For example, those who identified themselves as having Borderline Personality Disorder would consistently write very articulate posts that went on for hundreds of words longer than is usual on this platform, and the content was some version of, Why is everyone always so mean to me?
Almost no one identified themselves as a narcissist, which makes sense when you understand the disorder, but there was a ton of people who claimed to be the victim of a narcissist, but they illustrated a level and persistence of vindictiveness and malice that seems well outside of normal range. They would write at length about the ideal ways to punish - with a preference for public humiliation and character assassination - the person who they said had hurt them. This was very interesting, given that the never-ending revenge fantasy is a diagnostic feature of narcissism, leaving one to wonder if the shoe is on the wrong foot.