Recently, one of our staff members worked with a client to create a genogram. If you’ve never heard of one, imagine a family tree, but instead of simply documenting who belongs to whom, it maps relationships, conflicts and emotional patterns across generations.
As our team processed the experience afterward, something became apparent. There were multiple strained relationships and patterns of hurt stretching from one generation to the next.
But what struck me most wasn’t the number of difficult relationships. It was the weight of expectations surrounding them.
The pressure to maintain relationships because they’re family. The guilt associated with setting boundaries. The unspoken expectation that certain behaviors should be tolerated and certain hurts left unaddressed, all for the sake of keeping the family together.
It made me wonder: At what point does maintaining family relationships become more about preserving appearances than actually preserving relationships?
Genograms have been used in family therapy for decades. Family systems theorist Murray Bowen helped establish the approach, which was later expanded by family therapist Monica McGoldrick.
McGoldrick’s work emphasizes that we cannot fully understand individuals without considering the environments that shaped them. Genograms reveal recurring patterns of conflict, emotional distance, caregiving and silence (McGoldrick, Gerson & Petry, Genograms: Assessment and Treatment, 2020).
Sometimes, what we discover is that the behaviors we’ve always considered normal aren’t necessarily healthy. They’re simply familiar.
Think about the family where everyone knows one relative has a terrible temper, so everyone carefully manages their emotions to avoid upsetting them. Or the parent who repeatedly criticizes an adult child, but the child continues showing up, smiling and never addressing the hurt because “that’s just how Mom is.”
Over time, family loyalty can mean keeping quiet. Respect becomes confused with unquestioning obedience. Maintaining peace becomes synonymous with avoiding accountability.
Research suggests these pressures carry emotional consequences.
A 1992 study by psychologist Catherine Stein, published in the Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, examined dimensions of family obligation, including maintaining contact, providing assistance and avoiding conflict. Certain obligations were associated with psychological distress (Stein, 1992).
Another study, published in The Journals of Gerontology, examined 2,450 adults and their relationships with aging mothers. Approximately one in five reported guilt, associated with conflicting emotions and family expectations (2018).
It’s entirely possible to love someone deeply while recognizing that the relationship is emotionally exhausting.
I was reminded of this complicated balance through a conversation with my own mom.
Years ago, I wrote an article that included a deeply personal story about her relationship with her mother, my grandmother. My mom agreed with everything I’d written. She believed in the message and wanted her experience to help others.
But she asked that I remove identifying details.
Not because the story wasn’t true or because she wanted to pretend certain things hadn’t happened. She simply didn’t want her mother or other family members easily identified through experiences that might portray them negatively.
I respected that tremendously.
My mom wasn’t asking me to deny her experience or excuse hurtful behavior. She was asking me to preserve someone’s dignity while allowing an important truth to be told.
There’s a meaningful difference between protecting someone’s dignity and protecting them from accountability.
I wonder how often we confuse the two.
Maybe you were raised to believe family always comes first. That respecting your elders means never questioning them. That forgiveness means forgetting. Or that discussing painful experiences outside the family is disloyal.
Loyalty, respect, forgiveness and commitment are important values. But they become distorted when used to excuse harmful behavior or discourage honesty.
Family loyalty should not require abandoning your emotional well-being.
That doesn’t mean every difficult family relationship should end. I think we’ve become a little too comfortable with the idea that removing difficult people from our lives is always the healthiest solution.
People are imperfect. Families experience conflict and disappointment. Working through those challenges can build resilience and connection.
But there’s a difference between working through conflict and repeatedly tolerating harm.
One requires mutual responsibility. The other often requires one person to carry the emotional burden for everyone else.
So how do we untangle generational expectations?
Start by getting curious. What happens when someone disagrees? Who apologizes? Whose feelings receive the most attention? Can people address hurt without being accused of creating division?
Consider which expectations deserve to be carried forward and which need to change.
Sometimes honoring your parents means treating them with dignity while honestly addressing their behavior. Sometimes loving a sibling requires clearer boundaries. And sometimes maintaining distance is necessary when relationships remain harmful.
The goal isn’t to blame previous generations. It’s to understand inherited patterns so we can intentionally decide what comes next.
Every family passes something down. Some things are beautiful: traditions, resilience, love and belonging.
Others are burdens we’ve carried so long we’ve mistaken them for responsibilities.
We can honor the people who came before us without repeating everything they taught us.
Perhaps the greatest gift we can give the next generation is a definition of family loyalty that leaves room for honesty, accountability, boundaries and love.
Lauren Hall is president and CEO of family advocacy nonprofit First Things First. Email her at lauren@firstthings.org.