There’s a growing trend of parents stepping back when they should be stepping in, and the result is children who don’t understand boundaries, consequences, or basic responsibility. This isn’t about one incident. It’s about a pattern that’s been building for years and it’s time to name it.
There’s a particular kind of anger that only arrives when you realise you’re the only adult in a room full of people who technically qualify as adults. It’s the anger that comes from watching children behave like children - impulsive, careless, boundary-testing, and then watching their parents behave like, well, not parents. Not even close to parents.
And the thing is, that it never starts with the big stuff. It starts with the tiny, ridiculous, everyday moments that reveal exactly who’s running the household.
I still remember when my youngest was in Yr3, and I finally removed myself from the class parent group chat. Not because I didn’t want to be involved with my child and what was going on in her class or year group, but because the group didn’t seem to be about that at all. The group chat was every other message (and sometimes every message) being some variation of:
“Does anyone know if it’s sport day? My child says it isn’t.”
”Is there a change today? My child says they don’t want to do X.”
”My child says the teacher said Y - is that true?”
And I’d sit there thinking: You are the adult. You have the school app. You have the emails. You have the notifications. If the school hasn’t said anything, your child is lying. Not maliciously, not pathologically, just normally… the way kids do when they don’t want to wear the uniform or do the activity or follow the rule. It’s normal for them to try and push the boundaries.
But instead of saying, “Nice try, put your sport clothes on,” these parents were crowdsourcing validation for their eight-year-old’s whims!
That’s where it starts. That’s where the rot sets in. Because if you can’t stand up to your child about something as simple as a sport day, how on earth are you going to stand up to them when the stakes get higher?
It always begins with the small things, and if you don’t nip those in the bud, they grow. Fast.
Now, while these parents are busy negotiating with their children about basic facts, something else is happening in the background: Kids, especially boys, will sort things out physically if adults don’t intervene.
It’s not ideal. It’s not pretty. But it’s true. It doesn’t happen straight away - it builds until it can’t be contained anymore. Boys test hierarchy with their bodies. They always have.
And here’s the part that really grates: These boys - the ones who push boundaries, who act out, who know exactly what they’re doing - they’re not stupid. They know who they can get away with targeting. So, they don’t pick on the boys who will stand up to them. They pick on the girls. The quieter ones. The polite ones. The ones who’ve been raised to follow rules and trust adults to step in.
They pick the targets who won’t hit back.
And why wouldn’t they? They’ve learned that the adults in their lives won’t hold them accountable. They’ve learned that consequences are optional. They’ve learned that their parents will rewrite the story to protect them. So they keep doing it.
And while the boys tend to test boundaries with their bodies, girls test boundaries with their social intelligence. If boys push physically, girls push socially. They don’t shove you on the playground - they shove you out of the group chat. They don’t throw a punch - they throw a rumour. They don’t confront you head-on - they isolate you sideways. It’s strategic. It’s subtle. And it’s definitely devastating in its own way.
And before anyone tries to blame this on social media, let’s stop right there. This isn’t about platforms. This isn’t about screens. This isn’t about apps, or video games, or anything else you want to throw in there. Kids were socially attacking each other long before group chats existed. Long before Instagram. Long before Tik Tok. Long before anyone had a device in their pocket, or a means to record and share an event.
What I’m talking about is human behaviour, not digital behaviour. Different methods. Same root cause. A lack of adult leadership.
And if all of that wasn’t enough, there’s another version of the problem that’s been grating on my for years; The one no one wants to talk about because it exposes something deeply uncomfortable: Some parents aren’t just failing to lead. They’re letting their children lead them.
You see it everywhere once you know what you’re looking for.
A child doesn’t like something, or doesn’t approve of something, or feels uncomfortable with something, and instead of the parent saying, “I hear you, but I’m the adult and this is my life,” they fold. They rearrange their entire world around the emotional weather of a child (and possibly disguise it as good parenting).
It never stops at the small things though. Once a child realises that they can dictate the terms of the household, they start dictating everything else too. Where the parent goes. Who they see. What they’re allowed to do. What pars of their adult life are “permitted”.
It’s the same pattern as the sport-uniform parents, but just grown up and magnified.
If you can’t say, “No, you’re wearing your sport clothes,” when they’re eight, you won’t be able to say, “No, I’m allowed to have a life,” when they’re sixteen.
And the saddest part is this: The parent thinks they’re doing the right thing. They think they’re being kind. They think that doing this is somehow good parenting, because they think they’re protecting their child’s feelings and they think they’re being “understanding”. But what they’re actually teaching is:
Your discomfort controls me.
Your emotions override my adulthood.
Your approval determines my choices.
You are the authority here.
And once a child learns that, they don’t unlearn it. It becomes the blueprint, and the parent, the actual adult, ends up living a life shaped by the demands, fears, and insecurities of someone who isn’t even old enough to vote. That’s not compassion. That’s not sensitivity. That’s not good parenting. That’s abdication.
I know parenting can be hard. I know some families are navigating neurodivergence, emotional dysregulation, developmental delays, and challenges that require more patience, more structure, and more support. I honour that. But none of these things - not autism, not ADHD, not any label - are excuses for abandoning boundaries or avoiding responsibility. They explain behaviour. They do not excuse it. A diagnosis is not a free pass for harm, and it’s not a substitute for parenting. Hard does not mean optional. Challenging does not mean avoidable. You still have to show up and be the adult your child depends on.
That’s the thread running through all of this:
Parenting is NOT optional.
Adulthood is NOT optional.
Responsibility is NOT optional.
If you choose to have a child, you choose the job that comes with them. You choose the boundaries. You choose the follow-through. You choose the discomfort. You choose the moments where you say, “No, I’m the parent. Put your sport clothes on.” Because if you can’t do it then, you won’t do it when it matters.
And the rest of us are left cleaning up the mess… and you will likely not be happy with how others choose to do it.

Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.