Too Good to Be Real?

Why “the good kid” may be quietly struggling inside

In our previous post, we explored what happens when a child starts asking, “Who do I want to be?” When kindness stops being about pleasing others and starts becoming a mirror for self-respect.

But what if that mirror doesn’t just reflect discomfort? What if it reflects exhaustion? What happens when a child is praised for being “so good”… even when they’re falling apart inside.

I am (not) fine

If you’ve seen the Netflix series Never Have I Ever, you’ll remember Devi- the bright, slightly goofy teenager trying to navigate school, grief, and growing up. She’s smart, helpful, and always the “strong one” after her father’s death. Adults around her often say things like, “You’re doing so well,” or “You’re so mature.”

But in one therapy session, her mask slips and she finally screams out-

“Why does everyone think I’m fine just because I’m not yelling?”

This wasn’t a breakdown. What Devi names in that moment isn’t just her own exhaustion; it’s something many early adolescents begin to feel when they’ve spent too long being praised for staying calm, for being nice, for never making trouble.

We explored this shift last Saturday in The Mirror Test, when kids start asking not just “Will others approve?” but “Do I still like the person I’m becoming?”

What if the answer to that question is… no? What if kindness starts to feel like a costume?

When kind feels heavy

That moment, the one where the answer to the question above is “no”- where exhaustion creeps in- is more than a mood swing. It signals a developmental shift in how kids begin to think about identity, values, and morality.

Psychologist Carol Gilligan, whose research reshaped how we understand moral development in adolescence, observed that while younger children often define “goodness” as obedience or pleasing others, early adolescents begin to ask harder questions such as:

What if being good feels fake?
What if being kind means I have to hide how I really feel?

That’s where many children first encounter what researchers now call moral fatigue- the quiet weariness that builds when a child’s outer behaviour no longer matches their inner experience. They don’t stop wanting to be kind, yet they start wondering if it still counts when it doesn’t feel like a choice.

What older cultures got right…

This moral unease isn’t a glitch in growing up- it’s a human crossroad, one that earlier cultures handled more gracefully than we often do today.

In many traditional communities, including rural parts of India and across South and Southeast Asia, children as young as five or six take on meaningful roles in family and village life. They help fetch water, care for younger siblings, and run errands to the market.

In Indian cities, you will see the older sibling, barely 7 or 8, taking care of the younger one, while the migrant parents work at a nearby construction site. These kids are rarely praised with labels like “mature” or “good.” Kindness isn’t framed as a special trait; It’s part of being useful, connected, and included.

Compare that to our modern “good kid” culture, where quiet compliance is celebrated and emotional truth is sometimes sidelined in the name of niceness. We say, “You’re so mature” and we reward them for staying calm. We praise the peacemaker without asking if they had a voice in that role.

By doing the above, we mean to affirm them, but slowly, without noticing, we train them to perform. An act that they don’t know how to step out of.

Parents, don’t fix- sit beside them

If your child has always been the easy one- the helper, the peacemaker, the “good kid”- you might start to see cracks. A refusal to help. A look of quiet defiance instead of their usual smile.

This isn’t kindness disappearing; it's adolescence acting as a wrapper, tugging at the outer layers so what’s underneath can be chosen, not just performed. It’s the beginning of something better: kindness with integrity.

Here’s how we can support them as they move from pleasing others to owning their values:

A. Name the real emotional cycle.

Psychologists and educators working with early adolescents have observed a common emotional pattern, especially in kids who are seen as “the good ones.” While not formalised as a single model, this four-stage loop blends what we know from research on moral development, emotional suppression, identity formation, and the burden of praise.

It goes something like this:

1. The Performance: They smile, help, and apologise, even when it hurts.

2. The Resentment: Inside, they feel overlooked or misunderstood.

3. The Guilt: They feel bad for feeling bad.

4. The Identity Crisis: “Am I actually kind or just scared to be anything else?”

And here’s where parents come in, not to fix the feelings, but to make space for them. When your child is caught in this loop, your job isn’t to pull them out or talk them down. It’s to sit beside them and say:

“That sounds hard. I see it now. And it makes sense.”

Because the moment a child feels their inner conflict is real, not dramatic, not overblown, just real- they begin to soften. They begin to trust their feelings. And eventually, they begin to choose kindness, not perform it.

That shift, from pressure to permission, is where moral integrity starts seeping into the adolescent’s core.

B. Model your own pauses and boundaries.

“I’m feeling irritated, and I don’t want to say something I’ll regret, so I’m taking five minutes.”

This teaches the kids that real kindness isn’t soft-spoken submission. It’s the decision to respond with care, after honouring what you feel.

When they see you doing that- pausing, naming, choosing- they begin to realise they can do it too. That they don’t have to wear the “good kid” costume to belong.
That real kindness can come from real feelings.

We don’t need to raise kids who always behave. We need to raise kids who know what they feel and choose kindness anyway.

Raising kind isn’t always easy. But it’s always worth it.
See you soon with the next issue of Raising Ki(n)d.

Gaurav G