8 Things I Stopped Doing As A Parent That Made My Kids Respect Me More
I used to answer every question immediately. Solve every problem before they could struggle. Make sure every moment of their day was optimized for growth or learning or development. I was exhausted, they were entitled, and nobody was happy. Then I started letting things go. Not out of laziness, but out of the realization that some of what I thought was good parenting was actually just performance anxiety dressed up as care.
The changes weren’t dramatic. I didn’t suddenly become permissive or checked out. I just stopped doing things that looked like good parenting but were actually undermining the relationship and their development.
Research on parenting effectiveness and child outcomes increasingly shows that over-involved, over-protective parenting often backfires. Kids need parents who are present and boundaried, not parents who are everywhere and exhausted.
1. Stopped Solving Problems They Could Solve Themselves
I used to jump in the moment they hit friction. Forgot their homework? I’d drive it to school. Conflict with a friend? I’d strategize solutions. Couldn’t figure out the math problem? I’d explain it three different ways until they got it. I thought I was being helpful. I was actually teaching them they were incapable.
When I stopped reflexively rescuing them, something interesting happened. They figured things out. They learned to tolerate frustration. They developed actual problem-solving skills instead of learned helplessness.
Now when they come to me with a problem, my first question is “What do you think you should do?” Half the time they already know. They just needed permission to trust themselves.
2. Stopped Pretending I Had All The Answers
I used to think admitting uncertainty would undermine my authority. So I’d give confident answers even when I wasn’t sure, or deflect questions I didn’t know how to handle. It was exhausting and dishonest, and they could tell.
When I started saying “I don’t know” or “That’s a hard question, let me think about it” or “I’m not sure how I feel about that yet,” something shifted. They stopped seeing me as an infallible authority and started seeing me as a real person doing my best.
Research on authoritative versus authoritarian parenting shows that kids actually respond better to parents who admit limits. It models intellectual humility and creates space for genuine conversation instead of top-down pronouncements.
3. Stopped Forcing Apologies
“Say you’re sorry” was my automatic response to every sibling conflict or rude moment. They’d deliver a flat, resentful “sorry” that meant nothing, and I’d feel like I’d successfully taught them something. I hadn’t. I’d just taught them to perform remorse to get me off their back.
Forced apologies aren’t real apologies. They’re compliance training. When I stopped demanding immediate “sorries” and instead started asking “What happened? How do you think that made them feel? What could you do differently?” actual understanding started developing.
Now apologies happen organically when they actually feel remorse, not because I demanded the words. And those apologies mean something.
4. Stopped Scheduling Every Moment Of Their Time
Enrichment activities. Playdates. Sports. Lessons. I had them scheduled within an inch of their lives because I thought that’s what good parents did. Keep them busy. Keep them developing. Keep them stimulated. I was creating tiny, burnt-out achievers.
When I backed off and let them have unstructured time (actual boredom), they rediscovered imagination. They built elaborate games. They read. They created things. The skills I was trying to install through constant programming started emerging naturally when I gave them space.
Research on the importance of unstructured play shows it’s essential for development in ways that structured activities aren’t. I thought I was giving them advantages. I was actually depriving them of something crucial.
5. Stopped Protecting Them From Every Discomfort
I used to smooth the path constantly. Intervene with teachers who were “too strict.” Call other parents when their kids were mean. Make sure they never experienced failure or rejection or disappointment. I thought I was being protective. I was actually communicating that they were too fragile to handle normal life.
When I stopped running interference, they learned they could survive discomfort. A bad grade wasn’t the end of the world. A friendship ending was painful but survivable. Losing the game was disappointing but not devastating.
The resilience I was trying to protect them from needing to develop actually only develops through experiencing and surviving difficulty. You can’t learn you’re capable by never being tested.
6. Stopped Making Their Feelings My Responsibility
I used to treat their unhappiness as a problem I needed to fix. They were upset, I needed to make them not upset. Disappointed, I needed to provide comfort and solution. Angry, I needed to calm them down. Their emotional state became my job, and it was suffocating for both of us.
When I stopped trying to manage their emotions and instead just witnessed them—”You seem really frustrated” instead of “Don’t be frustrated, it’s not that bad”—they learned to process feelings themselves. I wasn’t abandoning them. I was trusting them to have emotions without me controlling the outcome.
Research on emotion coaching shows that validating feelings without trying to change them is far more effective than trying to eliminate discomfort. Kids who learn to ride emotional waves become emotionally intelligent adults.
7. Stopped Explaining Everything To Death
I used to think good parenting meant lengthy explanations for every boundary and rule. “We’re leaving in five minutes because we need to get home before dinner and I need to make sure you have time to do homework and get to bed at a reasonable hour…” Just exhausting monologues they stopped listening to halfway through.
When I started giving clear, brief expectations without justifying everything, things got simpler. “We’re leaving in five minutes” is sufficient. They don’t need my entire decision-making process. Sometimes “because I said so” is actually appropriate when it means “I’m the parent and I’m making this call.”
The constant explaining was making me seem uncertain, like I needed their permission or understanding to parent. I didn’t. And when I stopped performing my reasoning, they stopped arguing with it.
8. Stopped Comparing Them To Other Kids
“Why can’t you be more like [other kid]?” or “Their parents say they never have this problem” or even just the internal comparisons I didn’t say out loud but that shaped my expectations. I was measuring them against some imaginary standard child instead of seeing who they actually were.
When I stopped comparing and started appreciating their specific strengths and temperaments, everything improved. The kid who’s messy but creative stopped feeling broken. The one who’s introverted stopped feeling deficient. They weren’t failing to be someone else. They were succeeding at being themselves.
Every kid is different, and comparison culture steals everyone’s joy. Mine was no exception.
None of these changes made me a permissive parent. My kids have boundaries, expectations, and responsibilities. But I stopped performing exhausting parenting theater that looked good but felt terrible and produced entitled, incapable kids.
The respect didn’t come from backing off entirely. It came from being more intentional about where I showed up and where I stepped back. From being a person with limits instead of a service provider with infinite patience.
They’re more capable now. More resilient. More confident. And I’m less exhausted, resentful, and burnt out. Turns out everyone wins when you stop doing things that were never actually helpful in the first place.