You adored them as a kid – their joy, their wonder, their lopsided art projects and endless asking of “why?” But now they’re 19 and only care about TikTok, or designer shoes, or conspiracy podcasts.

Or maybe they’ve grown into someone you find unrecognisable, even unsettling.

It’s a quiet heartbreak many family members and caregivers face but rarely talk about: What do you do when a child you love grows into a teen or adult you don’t really… like anymore?

Mandy Morris, a licensed professional counsellor and EMDR clinician, said it’s “a particular kind of heartbreak I find quietly devastating: when a child you once loved deeply grows into an adult whose beliefs or behaviours you find difficult, or even impossible, to reconcile with your values,” she said.

Maybe they’re casually cruel, deeply self-absorbed, or espousing problematic ideologies. Maybe they’re just… not who you hoped they’d be. Experts say all of the above are quite common, and that it’s OK to feel grief, anger and even guilt in relation to a beloved child who is now a confusing, semi-grown human.

Ahead, here are tips for how to process those feelings, how to find the line between individuality and harmful behaviour, and how to draw boundaries that protect your peace and the possibility of reconnection in the future.

It’s important to acknowledge that there are myriad reasons we may find ourselves disliking how a grown child is behaving at the moment. Each of those reasons falls somewhere on a wide spectrum – from disappointing to deeply deleterious. Let’s start with the former.

“When my goddaughter started going to this fancy private high school, everything changed,” said Liana*, in Tennessee. “Suddenly all she cared about was, I don’t know, absurdly expensive shoes? And we used to be super close when she was little, so now I’m like, I don’t know how to connect with her anymore. Do I just… buy her the shoes? Or is it my job to push back and call out that she’s become so superficial?”

Mary, an American who lives in Italy, said her stateside nephew’s “very obnoxious behaviours were never corrected when he was younger,” and it has led to difficulties being around him now that he’s older. As a little kid, “he could be fun and silly,” but as a teen he “doesn’t say hi… he’ll pull his hoodie around his face at the dinner table, he’ll barely utter a ‘thank you’ for gifts,” Mary explains. “Unfortunately, it’s hard not to blame the parenting.”

Therapist Sloane Previdi specialises in families navigating boundaries and conflicts, and notes that the teen tendency towards selfishness or consumerism is certainly nothing new. But it’s important to remember that “as kids grow, they develop into their own person – shaped by many things outside your influence,” Previdi said.

To the aunties and godparents wondering what, exactly, your role should be when a beloved teen tends towards the selfish or misanthropic: “Your job isn’t to fix them,” Previdi said. Rather, your job is to stay grounded in your own values. “Hold space for complexity,” Previdi adds. “People change – but they don’t always do it on your timeline.”

Of course, sometimes you monitor the situation for a decade and realise that kid is now nearly 30 and certainly not going back to their old, big-hearted self anytime soon. Andrea, from New York, had to make some changes in how she deals with her younger brother due to his problematic politics.

“We were very close as kids, and got each other through a lot of shit,” she said. “As he turned into a young adult, it started to emerge that he was more conservative. Which, OK, fine. Nowadays I’m nostalgic for the days when I was just ragging him for voting for Mitt Romney – oh, if only Mitt Romney were our problem in 2025!” Andrea says her brother’s vote for Trump in 2016 led to a real falling-out between them, and he started to post racist and transphobic comments.

“We didn’t speak for nearly a year,” Andrea said. “And it wasn’t because I was pissed; it was because he was pissed. He blocked me because I wasn’t on board with his politics.”

Today, they can at least see each other at family events — but only because they’ve made the unspoken decision to never talk politics.

“It hurts my heart because the kid I love is in there somewhere,” Andrea said. “I want to believe that little kid believes in his heart that, you know, trans kids should have human rights. But I just don’t know.”

Coming to terms with a loss like this – the loss of the brother Andrea imagined she’d grow up to have – is huge. Previdi said you may feel guilt or confusion towards a once-beloved child who has changed, and “it’s OK to feel all of that. But your love can remain, even if your relationship changes,” she explains. One of the best coping mechanisms, Previdi adds, is “accepting that love and disappointment can coexist.”

“Maybe they’ve adopted ideologies rooted in misogyny, racism, or other forms of harm,” Morris said. “And maybe you remember when they were 8 years old and asked you to read them one more bedtime story. That emotional dissonance — the clash between who they were and who they’ve become – isn’t just disorienting; it’s grief. And not the kind of grief we’re taught to expect.”

Morris explains that psychologists call this “ambiguous loss,” a form of mourning that comes without a death “when the person is physically present but emotionally or morally unrecognisable,” she said.

What about Andrea’s decision to simply not talk about the issues with her brother? Therapist and licensed clinical social worker Jennifer Kelman said it’s a valid way to cope.

“Sometimes, taking a step back and letting things be” can be a great compromise, Kelman said, especially “if you feel that if you voiced your opinions, that it could fracture the relationship.” On the other hand, “if you feel that the potential of the fracture is worth the risk, then it might be time to sit with this loved one and share your feelings.”

Alex, from North Carolina, has had to actively distance himself from a cousin whose behaviours took a turn for the worse.

“I grew up playing with my little cousin Brad all the time,” Alex said. “We’d go to the beach together every summer. Then, when I was in my 20s and he was an older teen, he would get drunk and kept trying to start physical fights with me.” Alex had begun to be successful in his career and had moved away from their small town. Meanwhile, he saw his younger cousin start leaning more into problematic stereotypes about masculinity and inciting violence.

“I think it stems from mental health issues in the family that nobody talks about – which are often deeply rooted, Southern family dynamics,” Alex explains. As for the physical fights, “I refused to do it,” Alex said. He stopped seeing Brad entirely. Now in his 40s, he and his former favourite cousin are “not in touch. I don’t think he’s doing well. If I run into him by accident, he doesn’t ever look well.”

Alex said he knows many of Brad’s family members have struggled with drug abuse, and he assumes his little cousin has also gone down that path.

When “behaviours become harmful, such as with addiction and aggression, it’s time to set boundaries,” Previdi said. That doesn’t necessarily mean cutting someone off entirely. Instead, it can mean saying, “I love you, and I also won’t tolerate this behaviour.”

“Dangerous or chronically dishonest behaviour deserves your firm limits,” Previdi adds. “It’s loving to say no to harm.”

Morris said that staying in connection with a problematic young person without sacrificing your own emotional safety “might look like declining certain conversations, stepping back from constant contact, or clearly stating what behaviours you won’t tolerate.” She reiterates that if the behaviour crosses into harm, whether physical, verbal, ideological, or psychological, “it’s not just acceptable to step away; it may be necessary.”

Whether the grown kid you’re struggling with has veered into harmful territory or is just plain annoying, it’s important to remember that many “problematic” teens and young adults were once children conditioned to shut down their feelings, said Rachel Marmor, a licensed mental health counsellor.

“The neurotic adaptations they made to survive often persist into adulthood, manifesting as cynicism, disconnection, or extremism,” she explains, adding that a young adult spewing hate or retreating into their phone is likely still protecting an old emotional wound.

So start with compassion.

“Be with that person and show your empathy, concern and care,” Kelman said, “and let them know that you are worried for them.” She urges adults not to judge or accuse, but rather “lend an open ear and a warm heart.” Marmor agrees, and says to “speak honestly, even if it’s painful. Invite emotional openness, even if it’s rejected.” Set your boundaries, but don’t give up on the possibility of connection in the future.

And remember: You’re not alone in your disappointment. “Many adults are grieving the loss of a child they once knew,” said Marmor. “But grief can open the door to a new kind of relationship — one based on the adult-to-adult honesty that allows for healing.”

It’s not your job to save someone from the beliefs they’ve chosen to adopt. “You can’t out-love someone’s commitment to harmful thinking,” reminds Morris.

What you can do, however, is “choose what role you want to play going forward,” Morris adds. That might mean continuing to express care from a distance. It might mean breaking off the relationship.

“And it might mean holding space for the version of them you once knew,” she says, “while accepting that the present version is someone you have to relate to differently.”

Perhaps most importantly, though, if you’re struggling with a child you love turning into someone you don’t like or understand, know that disliking them doesn’t make you unloving.

“It makes you human,” Morris said. “And protecting your peace is not a betrayal of the bond you once had with that child. It may, in fact, be the only way to honor it.”

*Names of those who shared their personal stories have been changed throughout this piece to preserve anonymity.