Unpopular Opinion

I’m going to say something that might raise a few eyebrows: my kids are allowed to speak to me about anything they overhear or anything that is said carelessly in front of them. Yes, even my adult children are welcome to voice their opinion respectfully if they happen to overhear a conversation between their father and me. And here’s the really controversial part—sometimes their opinion actually carries weight.

Before you close this tab in horror, let me explain.

The Foundation: Respect and Boundaries

This isn’t about children running the household or undermining parental authority. My husband and I are still the decision-makers. Ultimately, whatever issue we’re facing at the moment, we handle it. That boundary is clear and non-negotiable.

But here’s what I’ve learned through years of parenting: creating a culture of openness doesn’t weaken our authority—it strengthens our family.

When my teenager overhears me complaining about a neighbor and gently points out that I’m being unfair, that’s not disrespect. That’s growth happening in real time. When my adult son hears a conversation about family finances and offers a perspective we hadn’t considered, that’s not overstepping. That’s the benefit of raising thinking, engaged human beings.

The Philosophy: Learning Never Stops

One thing I desperately want my children—both adult and non-adult—to understand is that learning never stops. We learn every day, everywhere, every time, if we allow our minds to open.

I spent too many years believing that becoming a parent meant I had arrived at some destination of wisdom. That I was supposed to have all the answers, make all the right calls, and never show uncertainty. What a lonely, exhausting lie that turned out to be.

The truth? I’m still learning. My husband is still learning. We’re figuring things out as we go, just like everyone else. And pretending otherwise doesn’t make us better parents—it just makes us dishonest ones.

The Danger of Being “Stuck”

Getting stuck in one’s ways hinders growth and prevents us from becoming the person God created us to be. I’ve watched it happen to people I love. They reach a certain age and decide they know everything they need to know. They stop listening. They stop questioning their own assumptions. They become rigid, defensive, and closed off.

And here’s what I’ve noticed: those same people often wonder why their adult children don’t call as much. Why family gatherings feel strained. Why there’s distance where there used to be closeness.

Could it be that our children grow up and realize they’re not allowed to be fully themselves around us? That their thoughts, observations, and perspectives aren’t truly valued?

What This Actually Looks Like

Let me be clear about what I’m not saying. I’m not suggesting that children should be allowed to be rude, condescending, or disrespectful. I’m not advocating for a household where kids lecture their parents or where every parental decision becomes a family debate.

What I am saying is this: when my kids hear something—whether it’s a conversation between my husband and me, a comment I make to a friend, or an opinion I express about someone—they’re allowed to bring it up. Respectfully.

Sometimes it sounds like:

• “Mom, I heard you say that about Aunt Marie. That didn’t sound like you.”
• “Dad, when you and Mom were talking about money, I thought of something you might not have considered.”
• “I know you guys are working through this, but can I share what I’m seeing from the outside?”

And sometimes, when they speak up, I realize I was wrong. Or shortsighted. Or operating from old information or biases I didn’t even know I had.

The Gift of Perspective

Our children see us differently than we see ourselves. They notice our patterns, our blind spots, our inconsistencies between what we say we value and how we actually behave. If we’re brave enough to listen, they offer us a mirror we desperately need.

Recently, my adult son once gently pointed out that I nagged his father too much about a very difficult struggle we are currently facing. My initial response was to remind him who he was talking too and he was not allowed to call me a nag. He apologized, but continued speaking.

Would I have preferred to never be wrong? Sure. But I prefer even more to actually be fair, even if it means admitting I wasn’t before.

Later, I called to thank him for the conversation as I was able to not only accept my poor behavior, but to voice it aloud. I had already been thinking of how poorly I’ve been reacting to the current struggle, but to completely acknowledge it within myself gave me the ability to apologize to my husband.

Modeling What We Want to See

If we want our children to be humble, teachable, and open to correction, we have to model it. If we want them to admit when they’re wrong, we have to show them what that looks like. If we want them to value other people’s perspectives, we have to demonstrate that we value theirs.

Our children are watching us far more closely than we realize. They’re learning not just from what we tell them, but from how we live. When they see us get defensive every time we’re questioned, they learn that being right matters more than being truthful. When they see us dismiss their observations without consideration, they learn that authority means never having to listen.

But when they see us pause, reflect, and sometimes change course because of something they said? They learn that strength and humility can coexist. That wisdom isn’t about knowing everything—it’s about being willing to learn from everyone.

The Long Game

Here’s what I’m after: I want my kids to still want to talk to me when they’re 40. I want family gatherings where real conversations happen, not just surface-level pleasantries. I want relationships built on mutual respect, not just hierarchical obligation.

And I can’t have that if I demand they respect my voice while refusing to truly respect theirs.

Yes, I’m the parent. Yes, I have more life experience. Yes, there are times when I need to make the call, end the discussion, and move forward. But none of that means I’ve cornered the market on truth or that I have nothing left to learn—especially from the people I’ve raised.

An Invitation to Growth

So yes, this is my unpopular opinion, and I’m standing by it. My home has open ears and open minds because that’s the kind of home I want to live in. Not one where everyone walks on eggshells or swallows their observations. Not one where “because I’m the parent” is the end of every conversation.

I want a home where we’re all becoming who God created us to be—together. Where iron sharpens iron, even when it’s uncomfortable. Where love means telling the truth, even when the truth is “Mom, I think you might be wrong about this.”

Because at the end of the day, I’d rather be corrected by my children and grow than be right in my own mind and stay exactly where I am.

And if that’s unpopular? I’m okay with that too.