You know that feeling when your five-year-old corrects you about which dinosaur has the longest neck, and you catch yourself mid-argument, ready to Google it just to prove you’re right?
Yeah, that was me last Tuesday.
There I was, about to pull out my phone to show my daughter that I definitely knew my dinosaurs better than she did.
Then I stopped.
Because in that moment, I heard my own father’s voice echoing from thirty years ago, never admitting he was wrong about anything, ever.
And I remembered how small that used to make me feel.
Growing up in my small Midwest town, being wrong wasn’t really an option in our house.
My dad worked those long hours, came home tired, and when he said something, that was final.
No discussion.
No “maybe you have a point.”
Just his way, period.
He provided well for us, absolutely, but emotionally?
That door stayed pretty firmly shut.
1) The need to be right creates an emotional hierarchy
When parents constantly need to be right, they’re essentially telling their kids that their thoughts and feelings don’t measure up.
I see this now, looking back at my own childhood.
Every time my opinion was dismissed or my feelings were overruled because “I said so,” a little piece of my confidence chipped away.
The research backs this up too.
Child psychologists have found that kids who grow up with parents who can’t admit mistakes often struggle with self-worth well into adulthood.
They learn early on that their voice doesn’t matter as much as the authority figure’s need to maintain control.
I spent years in therapy unpacking my people-pleasing tendencies, and guess where they came from?
Yep, right back to that kitchen table where disagreeing meant disappointing, and disappointing meant I wasn’t good enough.
2) Kids internalize the message that mistakes equal failure
Here’s something I learned during my seven years teaching kindergarten: kids are naturally curious and experimental.
They want to try things, mess up, and try again.
But when they have a parent who never models making mistakes, they start believing that being wrong is shameful.
I watched this play out in my classroom countless times.
The kids with the most rigid parents were often the ones who’d rather not try at all than risk getting something wrong.
They’d sit there, pencil hovering over paper, paralyzed by the possibility of making a mistake.
Now with my own two little ones running around, I make it a point to mess up in front of them.
Just yesterday, I burned our morning pancakes (okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely on purpose), and instead of getting frustrated, I laughed and said, “Oops, Mama made a mistake! Let’s try again.”
The relief on their faces when they see that mistakes don’t equal disaster is everything.
3) The perfectionism trap gets passed down
Can we talk about how exhausting perfectionism is?
Because I’m still working through mine, decades later.
When your parent always needs to be right, you learn that being wrong makes you less valuable.
So you twist yourself into knots trying to be perfect all the time.
The irony? This perfectionism doesn’t make us stronger or more successful.
It makes us anxious, stressed, and terrified of taking risks.
We become adults who apologize for everything, second-guess every decision, and struggle to trust our own judgment.
Breaking this cycle with my kids means admitting when I don’t know something.
“That’s a great question about why the sky is blue. I’m not totally sure, should we look it up together?”
Those words would have never left my father’s mouth, but they flow from mine now, creating space for curiosity instead of shame.
4) Authority becomes more important than connection
What I remember most from childhood isn’t the times my dad was right (which, to be fair, he often was).
It’s the missed opportunities for connection.
The conversations that ended with “because I said so” instead of real dialogue.
The feelings that got shut down because they challenged his viewpoint.
In my house now, we’re doing things differently.
When my daughter challenges something I’ve said, my first instinct might be to dig in my heels.
But then I remember that she’s learning to think critically, to form her own opinions, to trust her own mind.
Isn’t that exactly what I want for her?
Sometimes she’s actually right, and I tell her so.
“You know what? You’re absolutely right about that. Thanks for helping me see it differently.”
The smile that spreads across her face in those moments tells me everything I need to know about the choice I’m making.
5) Emotional validation becomes conditional
Have you ever noticed how kids whose parents always need to be right become really good at reading the room?
They learn to gauge moods, to know when to speak up and when to stay quiet.
They become little emotional chameleons, adapting to avoid conflict.
I was that kid.
Still am that adult sometimes, if I’m being honest.
The people-pleasing runs deep when you’ve learned that your emotional needs are only valid when they align with the authority figure’s worldview.
With my own kids, I’m trying to create space for all their feelings, even the inconvenient ones.
Even the ones that challenge me.
Especially those ones, actually.
Because they need to know that their emotions are valid regardless of whether I agree with them or not.
6) Trust in their own judgment never fully develops
Think about it: if someone is always telling you you’re wrong, why would you ever trust yourself?
Kids with parents who can’t admit fault often grow into adults who constantly seek external validation.
They struggle to make decisions without checking with others first.
I see glimpses of my old patterns when I catch myself asking my husband the same question three different ways, looking for reassurance about something I actually already know.
It’s exhausting for both of us, and it stems directly from never being allowed to be right as a kid.
Now when my two-year-old insists that his stuffed elephant can fly, I don’t correct him.
When my five-year-old creates elaborate stories about her imaginary friends, I listen.
They’re learning to trust their inner voice, something I’m still learning to do at thirty-something.
The path forward
Creating a different family culture isn’t always easy.
Some days I catch myself mid-sentence, about to launch into why I’m right about something that really doesn’t matter.
Old patterns die hard, especially when you’re tired and the kids have asked “why” for the forty-seventh time before noon.
But here’s what I know: our kids don’t need perfect parents.
They need real ones.
Parents who can say “I don’t know” and “I was wrong” and “tell me what you think.”
They need to see us being human, making mistakes, changing our minds when presented with new information.
The other day, my daughter reminded me that actually, brachiosaurus did have the longest neck, not diplodocus like I’d insisted.
And you know what? She was absolutely right.
The pride on her face when I admitted my mistake was worth every bit of my momentarily bruised ego.
Because at the end of the day, I’d rather raise kids who trust themselves than kids who only trust me.
I’d rather they grow up knowing their voice matters than believing they should stay quiet.
I’d rather connect with them than control them.
It’s a daily choice, sometimes an hourly one.
But when I look at these two little humans, full of opinions and ideas and boundless curiosity, I know it’s the right one.
They deserve to grow up believing in themselves, and that starts with me showing them that being right isn’t nearly as important as being real.
