In Latino families, there’s an unspoken rule: no matter what, family comes first. You’re in the kitchen, minding your own business, and your dad calls from the living room because el tío en México is on the line. You’re expected to pick up and say hi to the uncle who’s made comments about your weight, your life choices, even your wife. And the worst part is you smile through it because that’s what you do.

Family loyalty isn’t a choice in Latino culture. It’s an obligation written into your DNA before you’re even born. But what happens when that loyalty costs you your peace? What happens when “family comes first” becomes the permission slip for toxicity? And more importantly: at what point do you get to put yourself first?

Mental Health Awareness Month is the right time to ask these questions—not because Latino families are uniquely toxic, but because we’ve been taught to endure toxicity in the name of connection. And for many, the answer isn’t just setting better boundaries. Sometimes, it’s going no contact.

When Boundaries Aren’t Enough: Recognizing the Breaking Point

The decision to go no contact takes years and thousands of dollars in therapy. The worst part? It’s oftentimes the product of accumulated frustration.

“It’s rarely one dramatic moment, usually it’s an accumulation of many things over time,” says Dr. Sarah Oreck, MD, MS, a Columbia University–trained reproductive psychiatrist and co-founder of Mavida Health. “A patient will come in and say something like, ‘I tried the boundary. I said what I needed. They didn’t take it well, and nothing changed.’ And then they tried again. And again. The breaking point I see most often is when someone realizes that the relationship only functions on the other person’s terms, and that no amount of communication or limit-setting is going to change that.”

For many Latino patients, that realization is followed immediately by grief. Going no contact was never the goal. It’s what’s left when every other option has been exhausted.

But before reaching that point, there’s another layer of complexity specific to Latino culture. We grow up with a particular kind of conditioning about family boundaries—or rather, the absence of them.

“The awful thing about boundary setting, specifically in Latino culture, is that we’re taught from a very young age that families should be allowed to cross all boundaries and be forgiven,” says Gabriela Reyes, LMFT, founder of Mindful Wellness House in Miami. “You do something enough, and it starts to feel like that’s the only way. Where I find myself working the most with my clients is figuring out at what point they lost sight of their limit. You forgive and dismiss so often that you eventually lose sight of any limit at all.”

And that’s a horrible price to pay. By the time someone considers going no contact, they’ve already spent years—sometimes decades—erasing their own lines. Therapy becomes the work of finding them again. And shockingly, Reyes notes, “guilt and habit can make us dismiss things as severe as abuse. I see this often.”

The Guilt That Lives in Your Body

Once the decision is made, the guilt takes root. Think of it as Catholic guilt to the nth power, and you’ll get an idea of what Latino guilt feels like. It settles in, takes up residence, and visits at inconvenient moments.

“The guilt doesn’t dissolve once the decision is made; it often comes in waves,” Dr. Oreck explains. “The guilt shows up in the middle of the night, at holidays, when they see a cousin post a family photo on Instagram. What I see most often is patients oscillating, feeling certain about their choice and then completely undone by it.”

This oscillation is especially intense for Latinos because the cultural messaging around family is so deep and so early.

“Our cultural messaging around family is so deep and so early that it doesn’t just live in our mind, it lives in our body, and it means going against the story you’ve been told about who you are and what love requires of you,” Dr. Oreck says.

For Many Latino Families, Going No Contact Reads as a Betrayal.

The guilt, then, becomes tangled with shame and the fear of being cast out. But here’s what’s important to understand: guilt is a feeling, not a verdict.

“Guilt, like fear, is a crappy feeling we avoid at all costs,” Reyes says. “Guilt is learned; we can’t get rid of it easily, but we can learn to work through it, and in some instances, we can learn to reframe. A lot of the work focuses on accepting that the guilt will exist, but it in no way means we’re doing something wrong. Teaching our brains the difference isn’t easy or linear, but it’s worth it if there’s peace on the other side.”

Dr. Oreck takes this further, pointing to the real psychological work that needs to happen: values clarification.

“A lot of the work comes down to values clarification, and specifically the difference between the values that were handed to them and the ones they actually hold. Those aren’t always the same thing, and for many patients, that distinction has never been named out loud before. When we get clear on what they genuinely value, not what they were taught to value, it becomes possible to evaluate their choices against something that actually belongs to them.”

For us, that’s a silver lining. It means that moving from guilt tied to inherited values to clarity grounded in your own might not be easy. But it’s possible.

Ligia Orellana, LMFT, an anxiety therapist in Los Angeles specializing in supporting BIPOC adults navigating cultural pressures, puts it in different words but arrives at the same truth: “Choosing yourself can feel selfish or ungrateful, even when certain dynamics feel emotionally draining or no longer sustainable. The truth is that when we begin to shift how we show up in relationships, there will often be a reaction. Change naturally brings discomfort, especially in family systems.”

But here’s what matters: discomfort isn’t evidence that you’re wrong. It’s just evidence that something is changing.

Being the “Difficult One”: Managing What Comes After

Going no contact doesn’t just affect you. It ripples through the family system. And suddenly, you become “the difficult one”—the one who abandoned family, the one who’s ungrateful.

Meanwhile, other family members stay in contact with the person you’ve cut off. Holidays happen. WhatsApp groups keep buzzing. The family continues as if your absence is just a phase, as if you’ll come around eventually.

“This is one of the loneliest parts of going no contact, and it doesn’t get talked about enough,” Dr. Oreck says. “You’ve made this enormous, painful decision, and the family just continues. And you’re the one who’s ‘difficult.'”

“One of my favorite parts of the therapy process is teaching self-compassion,” Reyes says. “Once you can forgive yourself for responding to your upbringing and what you were taught, a lot of times, it helps you understand why other family members respond the way they do. It may be frustrating at first, you may feel angry, and that’s OK. It’s all part of the healing process. Helping my patients stay firm in their boundaries while understanding that they can’t force anyone else to do the same.”

This is crucial: other people’s choices to stay in contact aren’t a judgment of your choice. They’re making their own decisions with the tools and capacity they have. That doesn’t make it hurt less. But it does create breathing room.

“What I help patients sit with is the fact that other people’s choices to stay in contact aren’t a judgment of yours,” Dr. Oreck explains. “Everyone is managing the same dynamic with the tools and capacity they have. To be very clear, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. But reframing it, moving away from ‘they’re choosing them over me’ toward ‘they’re making their own choices,’ creates a little more breathing room. I also always do a lot of work around not needing the family to validate the decision. If you’re waiting for them to agree that you were right to leave, that validation may never come, and you deserve peace that doesn’t depend on their approval.”

Redefining What Love Actually Requires

Here’s what gets lost in conversations about going no contact: people who make this choice still deeply value family and community. They’re not rejecting their culture. They’re redefining what healthy relationships look like.

“Many Latinos who choose going no contact are not rejecting their family values but instead are trying to redefine what healthy family relationships look like, while also working to break harmful intergenerational patterns within the family,” says Paola Ocampo, PhD, a licensed psychologist in Texas with over 15 years of experience. “Being family does not excuse harmful behavior.”

In the end, going no contact isn’t about being cold or ungrateful. It’s about saying: “I love you, and I can’t stay in contact with you.” And realizing both things can be true.

“I think a very important distinction is that boundary setting doesn’t have to be angry, aggressive, or extreme,” Reyes says. “We can set a boundary from a place of love, understanding, and respect.”

The cultural narrative tells us that love requires unlimited tolerance. That family comes first, always, no matter the cost. But what these therapists are saying—what they’re helping their clients understand—is that love can also mean protecting yourself.

“Many people who go no contact still deeply value family and community, which is why the decision can carry intense guilt, grief, and pressure from relatives to reconnect,” Ocampo notes. “They may hear comments like, ‘You only have one mother,’ or ‘Family is family,’ which can unintentionally minimize the harm they experienced.”

And It Also Happens in Friendships

The same dynamics that show up in family relationships show up in friendships—sometimes even more painfully, because friendships are supposed to be chosen. When a friendship becomes toxic or misaligned, especially after years of investment, it can feel like a failure in judgment. And when you end that friendship in a tight-knit community, the social fallout can pull you back in before you’ve even had time to grieve.

“One thing I come back to a lot in session is that the body usually knows before the mind catches up,” Dr. Oreck says. “So I ask patients to notice how they feel before they see this person, not just after. The ‘after’ gets complicated by nostalgia, a good interaction, or guilt, and that makes it harder to see clearly. The ‘before’ is where the honest information lives.”

What matters is recognizing when a friendship has truly become something you need to step away from. And then, staying firm in that decision even when the community pressure mounts.

“When your social world is tight-knit, ending one relationship can feel like you’re destroying the entire community,” Dr. Oreck explains. “What I help patients do is get very clear on why they made the decision before the fallout hits, because once it does, the social pressure can make them second-guess themselves. We build out what I think of as an ‘anchor statement,’ something simple and true they can come back to when the inner and outer noise gets loud.”

The Peace on the Other Side

Going no contact isn’t a choice to make lightly. It’s the result of exhaustion, of trying everything else, of realizing that some relationships simply cannot function in a way that allows you to survive.

And yes, there will be guilt. There will be grief. There will be moments when you question your decision, especially around the holidays or when you see family photos online. Your body will remember the old rules, and your mind will whisper the old stories.

But here’s what the other side looks like, according to everyone working with this in therapy: clarity. Peace. The ability to love your family and yourself at the same time, even if that means from a distance.

“A lot of the work is accepting that the guilt will exist, but it in no way means we’re doing something wrong,” Reyes says. “Teaching our brains the difference isn’t easy or linear, but it’s worth it if there’s peace on the other side.”

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