How Do You Kindly Ignore Someone?

(And Why Your Kids Need to Learn This Skill)

Yesterday, my 13-year-old daughter asked me a question that stopped me in my tracks.

“How do you kindly ignore someone?”

It’s the kind of question that makes you pause—not because there’s no answer, but because the question itself is so deeply human, so fundamentally tied to the delicate dance of relationships, boundaries, and social norms that we’re all still figuring out.

I told her it was a really good question. Then I gave her a few tips—simple, practical tools like politely redirecting a conversation, setting subtle physical boundaries, or giving a smile without engaging further. But as I sat with the question afterward, I realized it gets to the heart of a much deeper issue. And one that we don’t talk about enough as parents.

Because here’s the truth: when we tell kids to always be inclusive, we often fail to teach them discernment.

We don’t live in a world where every person has good intentions. We don’t live in a world where every peer is safe, healthy, or kind. And yet, we tell kids—especially girls—to include everyone, to make room for every voice, to keep the peace even when something feels off. We elevate kindness as the ultimate virtue, but we don’t equip them with the tools to know when and how to draw the line.

What does that teach them? That someone else’s feelings are always more important than their gut instincts. That avoiding awkwardness is more important than avoiding harm. That their discomfort is a small price to pay for another person’s inclusion.

And that’s a dangerous lesson.

When you preach “kindness” without nuance, without boundaries, without discernment, you unintentionally teach your child that being “nice” matters more than being safe, or emotionally well, or even just comfortable in their own skin. You teach them that their own mental health comes second to another person’s momentary hurt feelings. That ignoring their inner voice in favor of social harmony is maturity, rather than self-abandonment.

When you preach “acceptance” as a blanket virtue, you fail to give your child a framework for recognizing anti-social behaviors. For noticing when someone is manipulative, attention-seeking, boundary-breaking, or just draining to be around. Kids—especially empathetic ones—can easily absorb the idea that all behavior must be tolerated, all personalities embraced, all people welcomed no matter how they treat others.

But that’s not kindness. That’s codependency.

My daughter is one of those tenderhearted souls—the kind who worries about hurting anyone’s feelings, who wants everyone to feel included, who will often go along to get along. She’s the type who might fall prey to what I call The Tolerance Lie—the idea that putting up with discomfort, creepiness, disrespect, or even bullying is somehow virtuous.

And if we didn’t have the kind of relationship where she could ask me questions like the one she did yesterday, I honestly don’t know where she’d be getting that counter-narrative. Because culture? Social media? Even school curriculums? They don’t teach discernment anymore. They teach slogans: Be kind. Be inclusive. Celebrate everyone. They don’t teach that some people need to be avoided, ignored, or walked away from for your own well-being. They don’t teach that “no” is a full sentence and that “I’m uncomfortable” is reason enough to create distance.

That’s our job as parents.

We are the ones who have to speak the hard truths to our kids, not in a spirit of fear or cynicism, but in a spirit of wisdom and strength. We have to teach them how to kindly—but firmly—ignore people who drain them, disrespect them, or make them feel unsafe. We have to model for them that kindness doesn’t mean self-erasure. It means treating others with dignity while maintaining our own.

We also have to show them that boundaries are not mean. They are healthy. That discernment is not judgmental. It is wise. That walking away from someone who mistreats you isn’t exclusion. It’s self-respect.

So yes, teach your kids to be kind. But don’t forsake the other virtues—wisdom, courage, self-respect, and yes, even the subtle art of ignoring someone with grace—in the name of kindness.

Because the world doesn’t need more nice kids who can’t say no.

It needs strong ones who know how to.

Thank you to Kit Hart for this piece!

Kit is a mom of 5, a Chapter Chair of Moms for Liberty, and a self-described joyful Warrior and defender of childhood innocence