Saturday, September 13, 2025
Adopting a teen is a beautiful decision. It opens the door to transformation, healing, and connection. But the journey is often more emotionally layered than many adoptive parents expect. One of the hardest experiences is watching your teen pull away just when you are offering love.
They may resist hugs, reject kindness, or react with anger or silence when you reach for closeness. To a parent’s heart, this can feel like rejection. But here is what is often true underneath: your teen is not resisting love because they do not want it. They are resisting love because it feels dangerous.
For teens who have experienced abandonment, neglect, or multiple placements, love has often come with conditions or consequences. Being loved is not always associated with warmth and safety. Sometimes it is tangled with fear, loss, or betrayal. Opening up to a new parent, no matter how safe, can feel like walking into a trap they have seen before.
Many adopted teens carry attachment wounds that shape how they see relationships. Some learned early that caregivers do not stay. Others were made to feel unlovable unless they performed or behaved a certain way. In this context, love feels risky. When they sense closeness growing, they brace themselves for the possibility that it might disappear. So they push away first. They want to know if your love will hold under pressure, or if you will leave like the others.
This behavior may not look like fear on the surface. It may look like rudeness, defiance, eye rolls, slamming doors, or long silences. But beneath it all is a question: Are you going to leave if I am not perfect? Will your love disappear if I show you my mess?
This creates what many call a push-pull dynamic. Teens may draw you in with moments of vulnerability, then push you away again when closeness feels too threatening. They may test you constantly with anger, rule-breaking, or withdrawal. It is not manipulation. It is survival. If love has always been followed by pain, keeping love at a distance feels safer. If they reject you first, they stay in control. If you leave, it will not surprise them.
So how should adoptive parents respond when a teen pushes them away? The first step is not to take it personally. Their behavior is a reflection of their history, not a statement about your worth as a parent. Stay calm, grounded, and steady, even when their words or actions hurt. Communicate clearly that you are not going anywhere. Say things like, “It is okay if this feels hard. I am still here. I care about you no matter what.” Acknowledge their fear without rushing to fix it. Let them know it is valid, and that love does not have to be earned.
It also helps to separate behavior from identity. Instead of saying, “You are being disrespectful,” try, “I see that you are hurting, and I want to help you feel safe.” Your teen needs to know they are more than their worst day. Avoid shaming words, and focus on restoring connection. Boundaries and consequences are still important, but they should come with empathy rather than frustration.
Do not forget your own heart in this process. Parenting a child through fear-based behaviors is emotionally demanding. Seek support. Talk to a therapist. Process your own history, especially if you came to adoption after infertility or loss. These wounds can make your teen’s rejection feel even sharper. You are allowed to feel hurt. What matters is how you respond—with reflection, not reaction.
Over time, your steady presence begins to rewrite your teen’s story about love. Each time you stay. Each time you show up after a hard moment. Each time you repair instead of retreat. You are sending a new message: I am not leaving. You do not have to test me. I am here for the long haul.
This is how love becomes safe. Not through promises, but through actions repeated over and over again. And eventually, when your teen feels safe enough, the walls start to come down.
One adoptee put it simply: “They stayed through the worst of me, and that is when I could start showing them the best of me.” That is the heart of adoptive parenting. Offering love not only when it is easy, but especially when it is hard.
Pushing away is rarely about not loving you. It is often a way of asking, “Will you still love me if I show you the parts I am most afraid of?” Your job is to answer that question with your presence, your compassion, and your refusal to give up.
