Everything Is So Unfair! (what to do when your middle schooler puts your parenting on trial)

Do you ever feel like you’re constantly defending your parenting?

Your middle schooler says, “That’s not fair!” and suddenly you’re explaining, justifying, presenting evidence, and reminding them what happened three months ago . . . only to realize you’re somehow arguing your case to a twelve-year-old.

If so, you’re not alone.

In this episode, we explore why middle schoolers and their siblings become so focused on fairness, what’s happening developmentally, why some neurodivergent kids experience perceived injustice even more intensely, and the attachment questions that are often hiding underneath sibling comparisons.

We’ll also talk about:

• Why “fair” and “equal” are not the same thing
• How to take your child’s feelings seriously without putting your parenting up for a vote
• What steady leadership looks like when your child disagrees with your decisions
• How to build a family culture where respectful disagreement strengthens relationships instead of turning your home into a courtroom

Because your child doesn’t need to walk away from every disagreement believing you were right.

They need to know your relationship is strong enough to hold the disagreement.

You can grab my free Social Guide and a seat at my free live Friendship Workshop on July 22 here:  https://kermorris.myflodesk.com/julyworkshop

You can find Bridget on Instagram here: https://www.instagram.com/bridget.parentcoach/

The Ultimate Middle School Parent Survival Toolkit is here: https://bridgetparentco.samcart.com/products/ultimate-toolkit

Transcript

Hello, my dears. Welcome back to Middle Years with Bridget KerMorris.

This is the first of what I imagine will eventually be many episodes about relationships and today in particular, I’m going to answer a question about siblings. 

I’ll start by saying . . . before I became a therapist, I was  a lawyer.

Which means I spent years learning how to build arguments. Gather evidence. Anticipate objections. Present my case. Defend my position.

And, as it turns out . . . those are terrible skills to bring into an argument with a middle schooler.

Because the moment we start defending our parenting, we’ve already accepted a role we were never supposed to play . . .

The defendant.

If you’ve ever found yourself explaining why one child got fifteen more minutes of screen time…or defending why you bought one child new running shoes…or presenting Exhibit A from three Tuesdays ago…or trying to remind your kids that, “Actually, your brother had the exact same consequence when he was your age…”

Congratulations! Your middle schooler has successfully turned your kitchen into a courtroom.

And here’s the tricky part. They’re not actually interested in looking at any evidence you present. They’re looking for a verdict . . . quickly.

They want the judge to declare,

• “You win.”
• “Your sister loses.”
• “Mom was wrong.”
• “Dad was unfair.”

If you accept the invitation to argue your case, you’ve started unintentionally laying a foundation for making parenting decisions open for debate if they can build a strong enough argument.

That’s exhausting and it’s a terrible way to be in relationship with each other because it requires a winner and if someone wins, that means someone loses and that’s not a great atmosphere for a family.

This is one of the most common dynamics I see in families and I experienced it in my own so I’m really glad to be talking about this today..

Today’s question comes from a parent who’s living this reality. I’ve changed quite a few details to protect this family’s privacy, but I’ve kept the heart of the question because I think so many of you are going to recognize yourselves in it.

Here’s what they wrote.

“Our two kids have become completely obsessed with fairness. Every decision feels like a courtroom case.

They’re constantly comparing what each of them gets, how much screen time the other had, who got new shoes first, whose consequence lasted longer, whose bedtime was different six months ago.

Our older child has even started policing what his younger sibling is allowed to do because he believes we’re not enforcing things fairly enough.

If we ask him to let us handle it, he’ll tell us he wouldn’t have to step in if we were parenting better.

When we try to explain our decisions calmly, they talk over us, bring up examples from months ago, and argue like they’re building a legal case against us.

Lately we’ve noticed ourselves trying harder and harder to make everything exactly equal because we’re so tired of the arguments.

Of course it doesn’t work.

And now we’re wondering…What does steady leadership actually look like when your kids keep putting your parenting on trial?

I smiled a little when I read that last line because they so aptly summed up the struggle so many of us find ourselves in, especially as we’re navigating the middle years.

So when I read, “Our parenting feels like it’s on trial.”

I think, exactly.

Before we talk about fairness…before we talk about siblings…before we talk about consequences…I want to talk about what happens inside of us as parents when our children become prosecutors.

Because, hear me out, I don’t think the hardest part of this dynamic is the arguing. I think the hardest part is what it starts to make us believe about ourselves so that’s where I’d like to begin.

This sibling dynamic turns the heat up for parents in a way we don’t always recognize.

When your child says,

• “That’s not fair.”
• “You always let her…”
• “You never…”
• “You like him better.”

Most parents don’t just hear a complaint.

We hear an accusation.

If you hear,

• “You’re unfair.”
• “You always…”
• “You like her better.”

day after day…it becomes surprisingly easy to start wondering:

• Maybe I really am getting this wrong.
• Maybe I am being inconsistent.
• Maybe I’m messing up this sibling relationship.
• Maybe they really do think I love the other one more.

And, our thought process quietly shifts from “What do my children need from me right now?” to, “How do I prove that I’m a fair parent?”

Those are two very different questions and the moment our goal becomes proving ourselves…we’ve already stepped into the courtroom.

If you’re anything like me or the thousands of parents I’ve worked with over the years, there’s probably a part of you that immediately wants to clear your name.

• You want your child to understand.
• You want them to know you’re trying so hard.
• You want them to know you love your children equally.
• You want them to know you didn’t forget what happened three months ago.
• You want them to know there was actually a really good reason for the decision you made.

And, I want to be clear, I see you in this. I AM you in this. We are trying so hard everyday, “leaving everything on the field” as they say.

So we start explaining.

• We remind them of what happened last week.
• We point out that their sister had the exact same consequence.
• We explain why one child got something different.
• We offer context.
• We provide evidence.
• We build our case.

And before we know it…we’re no longer leading our families. We’re defending our parenting.

You may have heard, I have 7 kids, ages 6 to 20, so I think about this quite a lot and I want to share my perspective before we get into the nitty gritty of how to handle this dynamic. 

I don’t think parents over-explain because their children need more information. I think we over-explain because the moment feels urgent when two (or more) of the most important people in our lives are at odds with each other..

There’s a part of us that wants our child to see us as fair. As loving. As good. As reasonable. As parents who are doing their best. And as parents who love their children equally.

Of course those parts exist. It makes perfect sense. None of us wants our children walking away believing we love one sibling more than another or that we’re arbitrary or unfair.

Here’s the shift, the answer isn’t to talk yourself out of those feelings. The answer is simply to notice that the heat has been turned up which allows us to pause long enough to say,

• “Of course this is getting to me.”
• “Of course I want to defend myself.”
• “Of course I want my child to understand.”

That moment of self-compassion gives us something incredibly important. Choice.

I can promise you this, parenting decisions are rarely strengthened by better arguments. They’re strengthened by steadier leadership.

The more time we spend trying to convince our children that we’re fair… the less time we’re spending actually leading them and that’s important because I don’t think fairness is really what this conversation is about. I think fairness is simply the language our kids are using to talk about something much bigger.

So let’s look at what’s actually happening developmentally.

In other words, let’s talk about what’s happening with your kids, because what’s happening is very normal developmentally although that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

Around this age, and it varies from child to child, but often somewhere around 7 or 8, kids begin caring much more about rules, consistency, justice, and fairness.

• They're noticing things they never noticed before.
• They're comparing.
• They're questioning.
• They're becoming much more capable of thinking logically and supporting their point of view.
• They're starting to recognize inconsistencies.

Their brains are growing in really important ways. They're becoming more thoughtful, more observant, and much more interested in understanding how the world works.

The challenge is that while their thinking is becoming more sophisticated, their perspective-taking is still catching up.

They can tell you exactly why something feels unfair to them. It's much harder to hold in mind that their sibling might have different needs...that parents have information they don't have...or that fairness sometimes requires treating people differently.

So they're asking really important questions.

• "Should this rule always apply?"
• "Why does my sister get something different?"
• "Who decides what's fair?"

Those are healthy questions. They're part of growing up.

The challenge is that fairness often gets defined as, "Did we get exactly the same thing?"

instead of, "Did everyone get what they needed?"

And truly,  I don't think that's just a middle school problem. I think there are plenty of adults who still struggle with that one.

Now for something personal. As I was preparing this episode, I found myself thinking back to when my oldest was in middle school and I remembered how when he challenged one of my decisions, I often felt this overwhelming need for him to understand why I had made it.

• I wanted him to agree with me.
• I wanted him to see that my decision made sense.
• I wanted him to walk away thinking, "Okay, Mom was right."

Looking back, I spent so much energy trying to help him understand me...that I sometimes missed what he needed from me.

He wasn't asking for a closing argument. He was asking me to stay with him in the mucky middle. To stay connected while he was disappointed. To tolerate the fact that he didn't like my answer. To resist the urge to make one more point...or explain one more reason...or offer one more piece of evidence.

And I think that's one of the hardest parts of parenting middle schoolers because there are going to be moments when your child genuinely believes you're wrong.

• They may walk away thinking your decision wasn't fair.
• They may not understand all the information you had.
• They may disagree with you completely.

And that can be okay.

Our kids don’t need parents who can win every argument. They need parents who can stay thoughtful, connected, and steady, even when they're misunderstood.

Leadership isn't about convincing your child that every decision was fair. It's about making thoughtful decisions that reflect your family's values...and staying in relationship while your child wrestles with their reactions to how the rules that support those values impacts them..

I still have moments when I want to make one more argument. I just notice that part of myself a little sooner now and that tiny bit of awareness gives me a choice about what to do next.

One thing in particular that I want to bring awareness to is that not all kids experience fairness with the same intensity.

Some children are simply more justice-sensitive than others.

• They notice inconsistencies almost immediately.
• They remember exactly what happened three weeks ago.
• They have a hard time letting go when something doesn’t seem equitable.

For many neurodivergent kids, especially many kids with ADHD and many autistic kids, these fairness conversations can feel especially intense because their brains are genuinely processing the experience differently.

Often kids with ADHD experience perceived unfairness very intensely. Once something feels unjust, it can be incredibly difficult for their brains to shift gears and move on. In other words, perceived injustice can feel sticky for their brains.

Many autistic kids are also deeply consistency-oriented. Rules matter. Predictability matters. When something seems inconsistent, their brains often want to understand why. It’s not necessarily about being argumentative. It’s about making sense of a world that suddenly doesn’t feel as orderly as it did a moment ago.

Understanding this matters because if your child keeps bringing something up, it's very easy to conclude, "They're just trying to wear me down."

Sometimes that's true but many times they're trying to settle something that still feels unsettled inside of them and that's where it makes sense to slow down.

Whether your child is neurodivergent or not, every child experiences the world through their own unique brain, temperament, life experiences, and sensitivities.

• Some kids move quickly through disappointment.
• Some stay with it much longer.
• Some notice every inconsistency.
• Some barely notice them at all.

Our job isn't to parent every child the same way. It's to understand the child standing in front of us well enough that we can lead them wisely.

Because underneath all these conversations about fairness...I actually think many middle schoolers are asking much deeper questions. They're wondering,

• "Is there enough love for both of us?"
• "Do you love my sibling more?"
• "If my brother gets more attention today, does that mean there's less for me?"
• "If she gets something I don't, where does that leave me?"

Most kids will never ask those questions out loud.

Instead they sound like,

• "Why does she get to stay up later?"
• "He got more screen time."
• "You bought her new shoes."

But I don't think they're really arguing about shoes. They're trying to answer an attachment question. Am I as important?

Once we recognize that, something shifts. We don't have to become defensive. We become curious. One of the things I say all the time is that curiosity is one of the deepest signals of respect.

Instead of immediately explaining our decision, we might wonder,

• "I wonder what this means to you."
• "Help me understand what feels unfair."
• "What are you worried this says?"

Sometimes you'll discover your child really is upset about the extra ten minutes of screen time. But other times you'll discover they had a lonely day at school. Or they've been feeling left out. Or they're worried they're disappointing you. Or they're carrying around a quiet fear that somehow their sibling is easier to love.

Those are conversations worth having because every middle schooler is quietly asking,

• "Do you like me?"
• "Will you come back for me even when I’m prickly?"

Sometimes sibling fairness is simply another version of those same questions. "Is there enough room for me, too?"

That doesn't mean we make every decision identical or change our answer every time someone says, "That's not fair." It just means we take the feeling seriously because the feeling is real, even when the conclusion isn't accurate.

We can say,

• "I can tell this feels really unfair to you."
• "I'm really glad you told me."
• "Let's understand what's underneath this together."

And we can still say, "This is the decision we're making."

Your child doesn't need to walk away from every disagreement believing you were right. They need to walk away knowing the relationship was strong enough to hold the disagreement.

Let's talk about what this actually looks like in everyday life.

Once we understand what’s happening underneath these fairness battles, the parenting becomes so much clearer.

The first thing I want to say might surprise you. I actually want my kids to tell me when something feels unfair. I don’t want them growing up believing they have to swallow disappointment or keep quiet when something doesn’t sit right with them.

• I want them to learn to advocate for themselves.
• I want them to learn to question things thoughtfully.
• I want them to be able to say, “That didn’t feel fair to me.”

Those are wonderful life skills.

The question isn’t whether our kids should disagree with us. The question is how they disagree because one day they’ll disagree with 

• A spouse.
• A boss.
• A roommate.
• A teacher.
• A coach.
• A friend.

Being able to express disagreement without setting fire to the relationship is one of the most important relational skills they’ll ever learn.

Here's where I think we sometimes get tripped up as parents.

When our child says, "That's not fair!" we often feel like we have only two choices.

Either I defend my decision until my child agrees with me… or I change my decision. But I don't actually think those are the only two options. There's a third option. I can take my child's experience seriously...without putting my parenting up for a vote.

That's a very different way of holding the conversation. Because if I'm honest with myself, when my child says, "That's not fair," there may be a part of me that feels accused. A part that wants to be seen as a good parent. A part that worries my child thinks I love their sibling more. A part that desperately wants them to understand that I'm trying my best.

Of course those parts show up. They make perfect sense. But they don't have to be the parts that lead the conversation.

Instead, I can let those parts know,

• "I see you."
• "I know why this is hard."
• "I know you want to be understood."

And from that place of self-compassion, I have so much more choice.

I can respond to my child instead of defending myself.

That might sound like,

• "I'm really glad you're telling me this."
• "I can see this feels unfair to you."
• "I understand why you're disappointed."

Now, does that mean I always change my mind? Of course not.

Sometimes, after really listening, I might realize, "You know what? You're right. I hadn't thought about it that way." I hope my kids grow up knowing that I can reconsider. That I'm not threatened by good feedback.

And many other times… I'll listen carefully… I'll think about what they've said… and I'll come to the very same decision. That isn't dismissive. That's leadership.

Leadership sounds like,

• "I've heard what you have to say."
• "I've thought about it."
• "And this is still the decision we're making."

Not because your child doesn't deserve a voice. Their voice matters. It matters a great deal. But children aren't meant to carry the responsibility of making family decisions. Parents are.

One of the things I've learned over the years is that I don't have to convince my child that every decision was fair. I do want them to know I took them seriously.

Those are two very different things. And our kids need both.

One of my favorite reminders is this: Take the feedback. Don’t surrender the steering wheel. Once we stop trying to convince our children that every decision is fair, we have so much more energy to build something much more important. A family culture.

Instead of debating every individual incident, we can start talking about the values we want our family to live by.

• “We’re a family that speaks respectfully, even when we disagree.”
• “We’re a family that listens before responding.”
• “We’re a family that understands fairness doesn’t always mean everyone gets the exact same thing. It means everyone gets what they need.”

Those conversations become an anchor.

Now, that doesn’t mean your kids will suddenly stop arguing. Middle schoolers are still middle schoolers.

But instead of inventing a new explanation every time, you have something to come back to.

• “Remember what we say in our family about fairness?”
• “Remember how we practice disagreement?”
• “Remember what respect looks like?”

You’re no longer solving one courtroom case after another. You’re building a culture your children can grow into. And over time, that’s what changes families.

One of the things I love about parenting middle schoolers is that they’re old enough to begin talking about family culture. They’re old enough to think about the kind of family they want to belong to. So instead of waiting until the next argument about shampoo or screen time…I’d actually have a family meeting when nobody is upset.

You might say something like,

• “I’ve been thinking about something.”
• “I think fairness has become a really big topic in our family lately.”
• “And honestly, I don’t think any of us are enjoying how we’re talking to each other.”

Then I’d invite them in.

• “Can we figure this out together?”
• “Because we’re a family.”
• “And we’re important to each other.”
• “I don’t want us living like opposing attorneys trying to win every case.”
• “I want us to become the kind of family where people can disagree, feel heard, and still stay connected.”

Then get curious.

• “What does respect look like when someone disagrees with you?”
• “What helps you feel heard?”
• “What makes it hard to listen when you’re disappointed?”
• “How do we know when a conversation has stopped being productive?”

Middle schoolers have wonderful ideas when we ask questions like this because they’re truly beginning to build an internal compass.

After listening, then I’d share your values. Not as rules. As who you’re trying to become together.

• “In our family, we believe fairness means everyone gets what they need, not necessarily the exact same thing.”
• “In our family, everyone gets a voice.”
• “No one gets the final vote except the parents.”
• “In our family, we can disagree respectfully.”
• “In our family, we’re willing to repair after hard moments.”
• “In our family, we’re learning together.”

Notice that these aren’t really rules. They’re identity. They’re the kind of people you’re becoming together.

And here’s something I’ve learned.

Families that only solve incidents…stay stuck in incidents.

Families that build a culture…have something to come back to.

Instead of inventing a new explanation every single time, you can simply say,

“Remember what we’re practicing as a family?”

Or,

“This is one of those moments where we’re working on respectful disagreement.”

Or,

“I know this feels unfair to you, and we’re still going to treat each other kindly while we figure it out.”

You’re no longer trying to win the moment. You’re shaping the culture your children will carry into adulthood and those conversations become an anchor.

The beautiful thing about family culture is it isn’t built in the easy moments. It’s built in moments exactly like these.

• When someone is disappointed.
• When someone feels misunderstood.
• When someone thinks something isn’t fair.

Those are the moments that quietly teach our children what relationships are made of.

• Do relationships fall apart when people disagree?
• Does the loudest person win?
• Does someone have to be declared right before everyone can move on?

Or…Can a family stay connected even when two people see the same situation differently? I think helping our kids build their internal answers to those questions . . . that’s one of the greatest gifts we can give our kids.

Before I land the plane on this week’s question, I have one small favor to ask. If this podcast has been helpful for you, would you consider following the show and leaving a review?

It helps Middle Years reach more parents who are quietly wondering if they're the only ones struggling with things like this. And if there's another parent in your life who would exhale hearing today's episode, I'd be so grateful if you'd share it with them. Sometimes the greatest gift we can give another parent is helping them feel a little less alone.

As we wrap up I want to acknowledge that maybe you’ve been listening to this episode thinking, “Oh man, Bridget. I think I’ve been defending every parenting decision for years.”

If that’s you, please be kind to yourself. You are a human in a real relationship with your child.

• Of course you’ve wanted them to understand you.
• Of course you’ve wanted them to know you’re trying your hardest.
• Of course you’ve wanted them to see how deeply you love them.

That’s not failure. That’s love with the heat turned up. And once you notice it, you have room to do something different.

You might even circle back and say:

• “I’ve been thinking about how we talk about fairness in our family.”
• “I realize I’ve been spending a lot of energy trying to convince you that my decisions are fair.”
• “I still want to hear you when something feels unfair because your thoughts matter to me.”
• “And I also want us to practice having those conversations in a way that helps us stay connected.”

That’s repair. Not because your original decision was wrong but because you’re shifting the pattern.

So the next time you hear, “That’s not fair!” you don’t have to walk into the courtroom. You can get curious. You can remember there may be something deeper underneath. You can lead with your values. And you can trust that you do not have to earn the verdict of “fair parent” every single day.

Your children don’t need a parent who wins every case. They need a parent who is thoughtful enough to listen, steady enough to lead, and humble enough to come back when you end up missing the mark with each other.

I think that’s a much stronger case.

The defense rests.

Before we wrap up, I also wanted to let you know about something that’s coming up this month.

On July 22nd, I’m hosting a live workshop all about the social lives of middle schoolers.

Because as we’ve talked about today, so many of the challenges our kids bring home, whether it’s fairness, jealousy, exclusion, comparison, or conflict, are really about relationships. And friendships become one of the biggest places middle schoolers practice all of those skills.

In the workshop, we’ll talk about what’s actually happening developmentally, how to help your child navigate friendship struggles without taking over, what to say when they’re left out, caught in drama, or feeling lonely, and how to become the kind of home base that helps them build healthy relationships without losing themselves.

If you’ve been wanting more support around friendships, I’d absolutely love to have you join me.

You’ll find the registration link in the show notes.