Kids Turned Into Their Parents’ Confidants: A Deep Dive

They may even be burdened with all the complaints, confident of being understood, without realizing that they are discussing the child’s other parent as if trying to recruit the child to their side, thus setting them against the other parent. This places the child in an untenable position, leaving them unsure of what is expected of them. In extreme cases, where a parent truly fails, the child does not need an explanation of the abhorrent situation; they live it daily, appreciating being understood and having their feelings acknowledged, even if they hear things they would rather not know.

These severe cases, often ending poorly and sometimes tragically, are frequently highlighted because of their dramatic nature, even shocking to those accustomed to handling dire situations. Society steps in to attempt to restore order in a chaos that exceeds the capacity of the involved parties, much to the relief of children who feel overwhelmed and lacking the knowledge to cope with these disasters.

More commonly, the disputes appear trivial on the surface but are actually quite serious, as they reveal fundamentally different views on life, though the outcomes are less devastating: any event, even minor, can become a point of contention as if confrontation is the only way to resolve differences. The first mediator they turn to is their child, ever-present and reluctant to withdraw. The child feels burdened with a mission, thinking that the distress evident in this troubled parent must be soothed, and if they are approached, it’s because there is no one else.

In reality, the one expressing dissatisfaction, sometimes in an overly dramatic manner, does not seek a more distant or neutral confidante. They turn to the nearest one, confident of being understood without needing to detail everything. This situation is all the more painful for the confidante because they constantly feel like they are betraying the criticized parent: defending them would mean directly betraying the confiding parent, placing them in an inevitable position of betrayal, despite their love for order, justice, and harmony.

“No one realizes the enormity of this burden”

No one realizes the enormity of this burden; it eventually becomes normalized, a role they should not have to assume in a traditional family setting: children should not be involved in adult matters, but the habit has been established, and everyone is stuck in their roles.

In a family with multiple children, there is usually one who takes on this role, which can hardly be seen as “privileged” since it imposes a heavy burden they feel obligated to bear, thinking no one else can take it on. Sometimes, they are even envied by their siblings for being in this seemingly favored position as the preferred confidant. They then find themselves with no place to retreat: simultaneously seen as a traitor, presumed favorite, horrified confidant due to the imposed transgression, forced to maintain an actually unattainable neutrality, finding peace nowhere.

It often takes reaching adolescence for the confidant to rebel, but they must be naturally rebellious and well-defined in character to dare to revolt against this harmful situation that places them awkwardly between both parents.

If they cannot bear to stop the endless complaints, not wishing to cause further pain, the one who feels a sense of relief in unreserved sharing must find a way to protect themselves. Being overly sensitive and defenseless, they would otherwise endure this constant bombardment without a moment to recover.

Gifted children, who often find themselves in this role due to their listening skills, are forced to devise their own defense strategies: they distance themselves from these troubling confidences as if they did not pertain to their parents, allowing the liberating flow to drift slightly so the subjects are no longer truly their parents but rather characters who resemble them in many ways yet remain somewhat abstract, like in a comedy or novel where the characters seem real, with subtle differences that clearly indicate fiction. This allows them to maintain unshakeable calm as grievances and complaints gradually lose their impact.

This defense mechanism is so entrenched that they might believe this role is theirs for life: as adults, it might be their spouse who, hearing these plaintive talks, wonders how they endure it. Explaining that it operates on a unique, dedicated circuit is certainly tricky for someone unfamiliar with such a situation. The lifelong confidant risks projecting a distorted image of themselves, whereas this is a vital defense system, unrelated to their true personality. One might guess that a diver doesn’t always appear smooth, glossy, and with disproportionately large feet: without their suit, they look just like anyone else.

It was a means to protect their sensitivity and not be perpetually raw, along with a sense of helplessness that is crucial to defend against. It affects self-image. One consequence might suggest it’s a calling: “all my life I’ve been the receptacle for the sorrows and frustrations of those around me, it must be my mission on earth, I must fulfill it” and the confidant might pursue a career path that locks them into this imposed role, confident they are protected by the defenses developed in childhood. In reality, they possessed many gifts that they let lie fallow.

Advice: Although it may be tempting to confide in a sensitive, kind, and intuitive child, one should never assign them the role of confidant: they might sometimes seem to choose it themselves, to alleviate perceived suffering. Their inherent qualities should be used for building their personality, not for serving as an eternal receptacle, understandably sympathetic and attentive, for stories in which they should not, and cannot, intervene.