Support isn’t measured by intention; support is measured by impact.
Most boomer parents I know are not trying to be cruel.
They are trying to do what they were taught to do: motivate, toughen up, keep the family moving forward.
The problem is that a lot of their “support” sounds like emotional sandpaper to adult kids.
If you’ve ever hung up the phone and thought, Why do I feel worse after “getting advice”?
Well, this is probably why.
Below are seven common feedback phrases that land badly, plus what would actually help instead:
1) “It’s for your own good.”
This one is usually said with love, and it’s also usually said right after something that didn’t feel loving at all.
“It’s for your own good” can sound like: Your feelings are irrelevant, your boundaries are negotiable, and I get to decide what’s best for you.
Look, sometimes parents are right about the big picture.
But adult children are asking for connection.
The psychological issue here is autonomy.
When you’re grown, support needs to respect your ability to choose, even if the choice is messy; when someone frames their feedback as a moral duty, it shuts down conversation.
It turns your life into their project.
A better version sounds like: “I’m worried about you. Do you want my opinion, or do you just want me to listen?”
That question alone can change the whole vibe as it tells your nervous system that you're safe here.
2) “At least you have…”
“At least you have your health.”
“At least you have a job.”
“At least you’re not like your cousin.”
When you’re stressed, grieving, burnt out, or just disappointed, “at least” feels like a hand over your mouth.
Gratitude works best after your feelings are acknowledged, not instead of them.
If someone skips straight to silver linings, it can come across as, “Please stop being inconveniently emotional.”
What helps more is a two-step response:
- Name the feeling: “That sounds really disappointing.”
- Then, if it fits: “And I’m glad you still have some things going for you.”
Notice the order: Validation first, perspective second.
If you’re the adult child hearing this, you can even coach it in real time: “I know you’re trying to help. Can you just say you get why I’m upset before we look for the bright side?”
3) “You’re too sensitive.”
This phrase is basically emotional gasoline as it turns a moment into a fight.
“You’re too sensitive” rarely means “you feel deeply.”
It usually means, “Your reaction is making me uncomfortable, and I want you to stop.”
It also carries a hidden insult: Your perception can’t be trusted.
However, sensitivity isn’t a character flaw.
It’s often a sign that something matters, or that a boundary got crossed, or that there’s old history behind the current argument.
Here’s what many parents miss: When you label someone as “too sensitive,” you don’t make them tougher.
You make them quieter, and you teach them to share less.
A better alternative sounds like: “I didn’t realize that would hurt you. Can you tell me what part hit hardest?”
That one sentence does two powerful thingsL
- It owns impact without needing to agree with every detail.
- It invites clarity instead of defensiveness.
A simple reply can help if you’re on the receiving end: “Maybe I am sensitive, but I’m still allowed to be hurt. Can we talk about what happened instead of what kind of person I am?”
4) “Just get over it.”
This is the efficiency mindset talking.
The boomer generation had to push through a lot, and the problem is they sometimes confuse endurance with healing.
“Just get over it” can sound like: Your timeline is wrong, your emotions are wasting time, and your pain is a choice.
Yes, some people do get stuck.
Rumination is real, but most adult kids are trying to metabolize it.
I learned this the hard way while traveling and dealing with a messy friendship breakup on the road.
I kept telling myself to move on because I wanted to “be chill.”
What actually helped was admitting I was hurt, journaling it out, and talking it through.
The feeling didn’t go away because I commanded it, and it went away because I processed it.
Supportive feedback sounds like: “I hate that you’re dealing with this. What do you think you need right now?”
Sometimes what you need is time, therapy, a new routine, or a good cry and a long walk.
However, “get over it” skips the part where you’re human.
5) “I’m just being honest.”
Honesty is not the same thing as usefulness.
“I’m just being honest” often comes right before criticism that feels sharp, unsolicited, or oddly personal.
The hurtful subtext is: I’m allowed to say whatever I want, and you’re not allowed to react.
That’s a power move.
Here’s a good filter I try to use with my own feedback, whether I’m talking to a friend or someone in my family:
- Is it true?
- Is it necessary?
- Is it kind?
You don’t need all three all the time, but you definitely need “necessary.”
If your honesty doesn’t help the person make a decision or feel supported, it’s probably more about the speaker than the listener.
A better parent version might be: “Can I share something that might be hard to hear? And if you say no, I’ll drop it.”
That shows respect, and it also turns feedback into an invitation instead of a surprise attack.
If you’re the adult child, you can set the boundary like this: “I’m open to honest feedback when I ask for it. Right now I just need support.”
6) “When I was your age, I…”
Ah, yes, the nostalgia flex.
“When I was your age…” is often meant to inspire but it usually lands as comparison, and comparison creates shame.
It also ignores something important: The world changed, housing costs changed, career paths changed, social expectations changed, mental health language changed, and even the definition of “stable job” changed.
When a parent says, “When I was your age, I already had a house and two kids,” the adult child often hears: You’re behind, you’re failing, and your life is a disappointment.
Even if the facts are true, that’s pressure.
A better approach is curiosity: “Your world is different than mine was. What feels hardest about this stage for you?”
7) “You should be grateful.”
This one can come from a good place.
Parents sacrificed; they worked, provided, and want that effort to be seen.
However, “you should be grateful” often shows up when adult children are expressing a need, a boundary, or a complaint.
Only then does gratitude become a weapon.
The message becomes: You don’t get to want more, you don’t get to feel hurt, and you owe me your silence.
Here’s the tricky truth: You can be grateful and still have pain, and you can appreciate what your parents did and still name what you didn’t get.
Those two things can exist in the same sentence.
A healthier phrase might be: “I did my best. And I’m open to hearing what you needed that you didn’t get.”
That’s a brave thing to say, and it’s also how generational patterns finally change.
If you’re the adult child, try: “I am grateful for what you did. And I’m also telling you this because I want a better relationship now.”
That “now” matters.
Adults are asking for a different present.
The bottom line
Support is measured by impact.
If you recognized a few of these phrases, you’re noticing a mismatch between old-school feedback and adult emotional needs.
If you’re trying to navigate this with your own parents, remember: You’re allowed to ask for different language, pause a conversation, and want support that actually feels supportive.
Sometimes the most self-developed thing you can say is simple: “I love you. But that phrase hurts. Can we try it another way?”
