Girls Are Mean

Girls are mean—and honestly, ours are too. And before anyone bristles at that sentence, I don’t just mean other people’s daughters. I mean mine too.

On any given week, part of parenting is helping our kids navigate hurt feelings, misunderstandings, exclusion, sharp tones, delayed reactions, and the complicated reality of learning how to be around other humans.

Lately, we’ve had several ordinary kid moments where one comment, one tone, or one offhand remark landed harder than the child intended. Sometimes it was about appearance. Sometimes it was about inclusion. Sometimes it was simply the sharpness in the way something was said. And like most kids, mine are learning in real time too. Sometimes they’re the ones who feel hurt. Sometimes they’re the ones who speak too quickly, misunderstand intent, react emotionally, or unintentionally wound someone else.

One thing I’m realizing is that just because a child doesn’t react in the moment doesn’t mean the hurt disappears. Sometimes it resurfaces later in quieter ways. A child suddenly stops wanting to wear something they once loved because of a comment someone made. Or built-up hurt comes out sideways later during an unrelated disagreement.

This is one of the hardest parts of relationships for all of us: what someone means and what someone feels are not always the same thing.

There was a moment recently where a few kids were playing together, and when another child came over, one of them matter-of-factly said, “This game is better with two people.” It wasn’t meant cruelly. But you could visibly see the other child shrink back.

This is just part of the process of learning how to be with other people. It’s tempting in these moments to want to pull back, to avoid situations that feel hard or messy. But avoiding hard things doesn’t remove difficulty—it often increases our anxiety around it. I learned that personally after a car accident years ago. I started avoiding highways, and before I knew it, my life became more limited. My anxiety didn’t get better—it grew. The only way forward was slowly rebuilding my ability to face what felt uncomfortable.

Relationships work the same way. The closer we get to people, the more opportunity there is for hurt. But that’s not a reason to withdraw—it’s a reason to grow. I want my kids to know how to make, build, and keep healthy friendships. This requires learning how to forgive, how to be gracious, how to be patient, how to be kind. I want them to know how to speak up, how to set boundaries, how to repair when they’ve been the one who caused harm.

In our home, my kids know they are protected, guided, and deeply loved. But that love doesn’t stop with them—it extends to their friends too. Because the goal isn’t to raise kids who avoid conflict, it’s to raise kids who know how to move through it with many tools in their hands. Who don’t hideaway when relationships get hard, but learn how to love well inside of them.

This is the kind of love we’re learning to practice:

“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other…” (Ephesians 4:32).

And over and over again, in the middle of those moments, I find myself praying:

Jesus, teach them how to love.
And when they don’t know how—teach me how to lead them through it.

This is where they learn it. Through all of these small, messy, ordinary moments.

If it’s helpful, here are some relationship truths we fight to remember (and are always adding to):

• It’s okay to say, “That hurt my feelings”

• Not reacting in the moment doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. We can come back to it.

• You don’t have to change what you love because of someone else’s opinion. You can say, “That’s your opinion, but I like this”

• Even if you think you’re right, the other person has feelings too—listen first.

• Give the benefit of the doubt. We’re for each other, not against each other—even when it doesn’t feel like it.

• Always talk to the person, not about them.

• It’s not just what you say but how you say it.

• What you mean and what people feel aren’t always the same.

• No one likes to feel left out. Look for a way to include.

• Not everything needs a response. Sometimes a good distraction goes further than working it out right away.

• No one is perfect. We all have bad days—sometimes we’re the ones who are unkind, and sometimes it’s someone else.

But even with every tool, it’s hard to know what to do in the moment. So, from one parent to another, one of the biggest takeaways God has been steadily teaching me is to pray right there in real time. More and more, I’ve found myself not reacting immediately. Sometimes I genuinely don’t know how to step in or what the right words are. Instead of forcing it, I let the moment pass.

What I’ve noticed is that God often provides what’s needed after. An opening. A softer moment. A chance to come back to it with clarity. Those follow-up conversations have become some of the most important ground in our parenting. That’s where we slow things down, talk through what actually happened, help our kids put words to what they felt, role-play what they could say next time, and bring it before the Lord together.

So much of what has shaped my parenting is Jesus. Learning His words and learning how to live and teach them with my kids. Later that night, when my daughter and I were processing what happened, she said, “Mom, I love that you’re my best friend. I can’t wait for our next date. Can we take a bike ride to Blanchard, bring our Bibles, and make a picnic?”

These conversations are happening all the time. But it’s these kinds of spaces, intentional and relational, rooted in God’s Word, that create the safety and opportunity for our kids to learn how to love Jesus’ way.

If you’re new to teaching the Bible at home, I’ve created simple, open-and-go Kid’s Bible study PDFs that make it easy to sit down and learn the Bible with your child. As they get older, your kids can begin to do them on their own, but they were designed to be done together.

Because even when conversations don’t come naturally, these kinds of tools can help create space for them. Space to slow down, open the Bible, talk, ask questions, and pray. Over time, those small, intentional moments become the ground where so much of this formation takes place.

That’s where they learn to love Jesus’ way.

I write about prayer, becoming more whole in Christ, everyday discipleship, and family life. Alongside essays, you’ll also find free kid’s Bible studies, and a living conversation about finding your people on Substack. Outside of Substack, I also create speech-sound story quests, whimsical allegories, and early-reader adventure stories for families.

At the heart of it all is a story of God bringing me from darkness to light, so I can’t help but write about hope, transformation, grace, and the reality that no person is too far gone for God to reach. More than anything, my passion is sharing Jesus with my whole heart.

You can generally expect to hear from me every other Tuesday at 7:07am, with occasional bonus posts and resources sprinkled in when time and life allow.

I also occasionally host Virtual Substack meetups for thoughtful conversation, and encouragement. Sign up here if you’d like to hear about future gatherings as dates open up.

Glad you’re here,

—AJ