4133 Hear Me Out

But here's the question worth sitting with: what if sometimes you're right, and sometimes there's a better resolution?

What then? Do you dig in? Do you sit quietly, arms crossed, trying to convince yourself that you're right and your child will just have to deal with it?

The goal was never to win the conversation.

Somewhere along the way, parenting conversations started to feel like debates — like if we don't land our point, we've failed at something. But raising a child isn't a courtroom. Nobody needs a verdict. What they need is to feel like their voice matters in the room, even when they're young, even when they're wrong, even when their solution isn't as clean as yours.

Proverbs 27:17 says, "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another."

Sharpening isn't one blade forcing itself onto another — it's friction that refines both edges. If we walk into every conversation as the only one who could possibly be sharpened, we've missed what the verse is actually describing.

Being right isn't the same as being effective.

You can be completely correct and still lose your child in the process — not because your logic failed, but because they felt unheard on the way to your conclusion. Kids don't remember the accuracy of your argument. They remember whether they felt safe enough to bring you the next hard thing.

So when your child pushes back with an idea you didn't expect, the instinct might be to steamroll it, however gently, because you already know how the story ends. But pause there. Ask yourself: is this a hill, or is this a hallway? Some things are non-negotiable. Most things are just... a different way through the same door.

Hear me out — but also, let me hear you out.

That's the shift. Let me hear you (your child) out, too. Not abandoning your wisdom. Not softening the truth until it's unrecognizable. Just widening the room enough for two people to bring something to the table instead of one person delivering a verdict to another.

James 1:19 says, "Be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry." 

Notice the order. Listening comes first — not as a courtesy before you say your piece, but as the actual work. Sometimes the resolution your child lands on, clumsy as it sounds coming out of an eight-year-old or a defiant teenager, has a piece of wisdom you didn't consider. Not because they know more than you. Because they're closer to their own life than you are.

What this looks like in practice

It looks like saying, "I hear what you're saying — tell me more," and actually meaning it, even when your gut says you already know where this is headed.

It looks like being willing to say, "You know what, that's actually a good point," out loud, in front of your kid, without it costing you your authority. Authority was never about always being right. It was about being trustworthy.

It looks like holding your position when it truly matters, and releasing your grip when it doesn't — and knowing the difference takes humility, not certainty.

As Maya Angelou once said, "I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." Your child won't remember the exact wording of the lecture. They'll remember whether the conversation felt like a wall or a door.

Three ways to make it a two-way street

If you want to be heard and actually hear your child, it takes more than good intentions in the moment. It takes a few habits you build on purpose.

1. Say your piece, then ask a real question. Share your wisdom — that's still your job. But don't end on your conclusion. End on a question like, "What do you think we should do?" or "Does that make sense to you, or does it feel off somewhere?" A real question is one you're actually willing to sit with the answer to, not one designed to lead them back to your point.
2. Repeat back what you heard before you respond to it. Before you correct, defend, or explain, try saying, "So what I'm hearing is..." and let your child confirm or correct you. This does two things: it slows you down before you react, and it proves to your child that their words landed somewhere before your words fly back at them.
3. Decide in advance which hills are actually hills. Not every disagreement needs to be won. Before the conversation even starts — or in a calm moment afterward — get honest with yourself about what's truly non-negotiable (safety, character, values) versus what's just your preference for how something should be done. When you know the difference ahead of time, it's easier to hold firm where it matters and loosen your grip where it doesn't.

None of this means abandoning your wisdom or pretending you don't know what you know. It means building a conversation with room for two people in it, not just one delivering a verdict to the other.

So the next time you feel that hear me out rising up before you speak — pause. Say it. But then hand the phrase back. Ask them to hear you out, and then genuinely hear them out too. Not every conversation needs a winner. Some just need two people willing to be sharpened.