While watching an interview between Melinda French Gates and Michelle Obama, I had one of those parenting “revelations” — an idea that has stayed with me nearly a year after first hearing it: I don’t need to be friends with my kids.
Yes, Mrs. Obama laid out the dangers of being “friends” with your children. “Once you decide you want your child to be your friend, now you’re worried about them liking you,” she said in another interview. “And there’s so much of parenting that has nothing to do with them liking you. . . . So much of what you’re gonna have to teach them is counter to what they want.”
This sentiment has stuck with me, not because it’s harsh, but because it’s freeing. It gave me permission to embrace a truth I’ve felt deeply but couldn’t always articulate: I don’t want to be friends with my kids. And that’s not a failure; it’s an intentional choice.
My kids will have plenty of friends in their lives — friends who will cheer them on, friends who will commiserate with them, and sometimes even friends who will steer them in the wrong direction. But they get only one mom.
One person whose job is to love them unconditionally while preparing them for the world. Friendship is built on equality, but being a mom isn’t about being on equal footing. It’s about setting boundaries, enforcing consequences, and teaching lessons that often make me the “bad guy.”
When my child wants to stay up late scrolling their tablet, the friend in me might say, “Why not? It’s no big deal.” But the mom in me says, “Sleep is important for your brain and your body. You’ll thank me later.” In the moment, they’re upset. They might even mutter, “You’re the meanest mom ever!” But my goal isn’t to be mean — it’s to prioritize their well-being over their temporary happiness. That’s my role, and it’s one I take seriously.
There are moments when I wonder if saying no or setting limits makes me too strict. But when I step back, I see the bigger picture. My job isn’t to make my kids feel comfortable all the time. It’s to give them the structure they need to thrive. Boundaries might frustrate them now, but they’re also what give them security. They’re how I show my love in action, even when it’s hard.
This doesn’t mean we don’t laugh together, share secrets, or build joyful memories. Those moments are part of our bond. But my love for them takes precedence over my need to be liked. And the irony is, I believe this approach makes our relationship stronger. Someday, when they look back, I hope they’ll see that my rules and boundaries were born out of care — that being their mom was the greatest gift I could give them.
Michelle Obama’s words remind me that parenting isn’t about being popular. It’s about standing firm in the messy, unglamorous work of raising humans who are ready to face the world. And while my kids may not always like me in the moment, they’ll always know they have one person in their corner who is unwavering, unflinching, and unapologetically their mom. That’s who I want to be for them.
And that, to me, is better than any friendship.
