I reached out to my brothers when I was in a protracted and deep struggle. I asked for safe connection, acknowledgment, and support. I needed them to see me and recognize how repeated abuse from the disease management industry had nearly obliterated me.

But my youngest brother couldn’t meet me there. He said, “I’ll pray for you.” He was incapable of offering comfort or connection. His lack of empathy was an enormous red flag. It showed an inability or unwillingness to recognize and respect the experience and boundaries of others. Without empathy, a person can’t reliably respond to harm they cause, can manipulate or exploit, and is unlikely to repair relationships when they go wrong. It signals that connection, safety, and mutual respect aren’t priorities for them.

I was struggling for my life. I didn’t need abstract gestures or rituals. I needed attunement, presence, recognition, and tangible support. From an Interpersonal Neurobiology (IPNB) perspective, praying for someone doesn’t meet a flooded nervous system that is overwhelmed and desperate for safety. It doesn’t communicate that someone is standing with you, bearing witness to your suffering. It’s a symbolic gesture, like offering a cheap plastic Band-Aid in response to a broken leg. No thanks! I’m better off without.

To me, that moment was a clear signal of detachment. It was uncaring, rooted in disconnection. It was a relational message: my reality, suffering, and needs did not matter. His response was part of an attempt to otherize me and diminish me for failing to thrive after a lifetime of horrific abuse by “caregivers.” It wasn’t safe or healthy. It was indicative of an uncaring relationship.

If my brother had meant well, he would have offered something helpful, like “I see how much you’re suffering. I hope you find relief. I’m here for you.” That would have acknowledged my humanity and the legitimacy of my pain. Even better, since he has the resources, he could have offered genuine support, like a visit, financial help, practical assistance, or anything that actually responded to the reality of my struggle. He offered a platitude instead of engagement. Due to his own impediments and his taking up the role of the dogmatic replacement patriarch, a hollow, “I’ll pray for you,” was the best he could offer.

From an IPNB perspective, this is the kind of relational failure that keeps a nervous system in survival mode. Connection regulates us. Safety allows a system to settle. When someone responds with abstraction or disdain instead of presence, the system is left alone in overwhelm, left to manage the consequences of disconnection. My brother’s response was not a misstep, but a message. He made it clear that a relationship with him is not safe.

That is why I went no contact. I wish for family, but safety matters more. My nervous system, health, recovery, and sense of being human require relationships that are attuned, present, and responsive. Anything else is harm.

I share this to name what is real. Sometimes family fails in ways that can’t be negotiated, mediated, or worked around. Sometimes the only way to preserve your safety is to step away. Connection matters. Safety matters. Presence matters. So, I chose to disconnect.

If I were to pray for my brother, I would ask that he gain the healing and integration that allow him to show empathy to his sister when she’s experienced repeated and egregious harm, instead of trying to take advantage of her vulnerable state so smash her further into the ground. But I believe that is up to him. So, bye-bye, baby brother. Good luck!