Being a Better Son or Daughter: Why Most People Get the Relationship Wrong

Being a Better Son or Daughter: Why Most People Get the Relationship Wrong

We all feel it eventually. That weird, nagging guilt that sits in the back of your mind during a Sunday dinner or after you’ve let a text from your mom sit unread for three days. You want to be a better son or daughter, but life is loud. Work is demanding. Your own kids—if you have them—are exhausting. And yet, the relationship with our parents remains the most foundational, complicated, and often frustrating tether we have.

It’s heavy.

Most people think being "better" in this context means more frequent phone calls or bigger birthday gifts. It’s not. Honestly, it’s about shifting the power dynamic from a child-parent hierarchy to a peer-to-peer connection. This transition is messy. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s the only way to actually improve the bond before time runs out.

The Myth of the Perfect Child

Let’s be real for a second. There is no blueprint for this. Society gives us these Hallmark-card expectations—the selfless child who visits every weekend and never disagrees. That’s not reality. In reality, being a better son or daughter usually starts with acknowledging that your parents are just people.

They’re flawed. They’ve got baggage. They probably messed up parts of your childhood.

Dr. Karl Pillemer, a gerontologist at Cornell University who conducted the "Cornell Legacy Project," interviewed over 1,500 older Americans about their lives. One of the biggest takeaways? Regret. Not over the things they didn't buy, but over the estrangements and the words left unsaid. Pillemer’s research suggests that "bridging the rift" is often less about resolving every past argument and more about deciding that the relationship matters more than being right.

If you're waiting for them to apologize first, you might be waiting forever. That's a hard pill to swallow. It's bitter. But being the "better" version of yourself in this dynamic often means being the one to extend the olive branch, even if you didn't break it.

Communication Isn't Just Talking

You’ve heard it a million times: "Communication is key."

✨ Don't miss: 100 Biggest Cities in the US: Why the Map You Know is Wrong

It’s a cliché because it’s true, but we usually do it wrong. We talk * at* our parents, not with them. Or we perform. We give the "highlight reel" of our lives—the promotion, the new house, the kids’ grades—and we hide the struggles.

When you hide the struggle, you deny them the chance to be parents.

Being a better son or daughter involves a specific kind of radical honesty. You don't have to overshare, but you do have to be present. Think about the last time you asked your father about his life before you were born. Not his career, but his fears at twenty-five. Or the last time you asked your mother what she actually dreams about now that she's retired.

Active Listening in the Digital Age

Texting is easy. It’s also lazy.

A 2021 study published in the Journal of Social and Personal Relationships highlighted how digital communication can sometimes lead to misunderstandings in intergenerational relationships. Older generations often view a text as a "transaction," whereas younger generations see it as "presence." If you want to improve, pick up the phone. Or better yet, use video. Seeing a face changes the neurochemistry of the interaction. It builds empathy in a way a "thumbs up" emoji never will.

Managing the "Parental Regression" Trap

Ever notice how you can be a CEO, a parent, and a functioning adult all week, but the second you step into your parents' kitchen, you turn back into a moody fifteen-year-old?

It’s called regression. It happens because we fall back into old patterns. They treat you like a child, so you act like a child. To be a better son or daughter, you have to break the cycle.

🔗 Read more: Cooper City FL Zip Codes: What Moving Here Is Actually Like

You do this by setting boundaries with kindness.

  • Stop the "Yes, Mom" reflex. If they’re overstepping, say it: "I love that you're concerned, but I've got this handled."
  • Show, don't just tell, your maturity. If you want to be treated like an adult, you have to behave like one, especially during disagreements. No door-slamming. No silent treatment.
  • Acknowledge their effort. Even if their advice is outdated or annoying, acknowledging the intent—which is usually love—softens the blow of you ignoring the advice itself.

The Role of Caregiving and the "Sandwich Generation"

For many, being a better son or daughter isn't about emotional connection; it's about physical labor. We’re living in the era of the "Sandwich Generation." These are adults who are simultaneously raising their own children and caring for aging parents.

It is incredibly stressful.

According to the Pew Research Center, roughly one in seven middle-aged adults is providing financial support to both a child and a parent. In this scenario, being "better" doesn't mean doing everything yourself. It means being a coordinator. It means having the "difficult talk" about long-term care, wills, and end-of-life wishes before a crisis hits.

It feels morbid. It feels like you’re betraying them by talking about a time when they won't be here. But the most loving thing you can do is ensure their wishes are known and respected. That is true advocacy.

Forgiveness as a Practical Tool

We need to talk about the "toxic" label.

The internet loves to tell people to go "no contact" at the first sign of friction. Sometimes, that’s necessary. If there is abuse or deep psychological harm, protecting yourself is the priority. But for the average person dealing with "annoying" or "difficult" parents, the path to being a better son or daughter usually involves a lot of forgiveness.

💡 You might also like: Why People That Died on Their Birthday Are More Common Than You Think

Forgiveness isn't for them. It’s for you.

When you hold onto resentment about how they raised you, you stay tethered to the past. You stay a child. Forgiving them for being imperfect allows you to meet them where they are now. They aren't the same people they were in 1995. You aren't either.

Tangible Ways to Show Up

Small things matter. They really do.

  1. The "Random" Check-in. Don't just call on holidays. A three-minute call on a Tuesday to say you saw a bird that reminded you of them? That’s gold.
  2. Learn Their Language. If your dad loves gardening, go weed the garden with him. You don’t have to like gardening; you just have to like him.
  3. Document the History. Use an app or a notebook to record their stories. Ask about their grandparents. This shows you value their legacy.
  4. Practice Patience with Technology. It’s frustrating to explain how to reset a password for the tenth time. Breathe. Remember they taught you how to use a spoon.

Shifting the Perspective

Ultimately, the goal isn't to be a "perfect" child. Perfection is a lie. The goal is to be a conscious one.

Being a better son or daughter means realizing that the clock is ticking. It sounds grim, but it’s the most honest motivation there is. One day, the phone won't ring. The "annoying" advice will stop. The house you grew up in will be quiet.

When that day comes, you don't want to look back and wish you'd been less "right" and more present.

Actionable Steps for This Week

Start small. This isn't a makeover; it's a shift in habit.

  • Audit your last five interactions. Were you defensive? Did you actually listen? Or were you just waiting for your turn to speak? Identify one pattern you want to change—like stopping the urge to roll your eyes when they repeat a story.
  • Schedule a "Non-Event" visit. Go over just to hang out. No dinner plans, no chores, no holidays. Just sit in the same room.
  • Ask one "Deep" question. "What was the hardest year of your life?" or "What are you most proud of that I don't know about?"
  • Check the legalities. If your parents are over 65, ask if their power of attorney and healthcare directives are updated. It’s an act of service, not an intrusion.

The relationship with your parents is a living thing. It needs water. It needs light. Most of all, it needs you to stop acting like a kid and start acting like the adult they worked so hard to help you become.