Why I Stopped Forcing Kids to Share

Why I Stopped Forcing Kids to Share (And No, It’s Not Rude)

Forcing kids to share is one of the hardest parts of parenting. Okay, let’s be honest. Sharing is hard. Even for adults.

The "Starbucks Test"

Picture this: You’re at Starbucks, deep in focus, answering an urgent email on your laptop. Suddenly, a stranger taps your shoulder.

"Hey, that laptop looks fun. I want a turn."

And then, the barista walks over and tells you: "You’ve been on it for ten minutes. Be nice. Share with him."

Would you feel generous? No. You’d feel violated. You’d feel angry. You might even snap at the guy.

So why do we expect our toddlers—who literally have the impulse control of a goldfish—to handle this better than we would? (Experts at ZERO TO THREE confirm that toddlers' brains are still developing the capacity for self-control.)

We snatch toys out of their hands the second another kid whines, all because we’re terrified of looking like "that parent" at the playground.

I’m done with that. In our house, we don’t believe in forcing kids to share. We do "Turn-Taking."

The Hidden Cost of Forcing Kids to Share

Here’s the hard truth. When we force a child to hand over a toy just to stop another kid from crying, we aren't teaching kindness. We are unintentionally teaching two dangerous lessons:

  • To the child playing: "Your needs don't matter. You must interrupt your own flow to make someone else happy."
    The Risk: This is how we plant the seeds of a People-Pleaser. We are teaching them that keeping the peace is more important than their own boundaries.
  • To the child waiting: "If I whine loud enough, I get what I want instantly."
    The Risk: This doesn't teach patience; it breeds Entitlement.

True generosity comes from a "full cup." It happens when a child feels safe enough to say, "I’m all done now, here you go." You can’t force that feeling.

The Script That Saved My Sanity

I know, it feels super awkward when another parent is staring at you, waiting for you to make your kid "share."

Here is the script I use. It’s called the "All Done" Rule.

Scenario A: Another kid grabs your child's toy

Don’t say: "Be nice, give it to him."
Instead, be a sportscaster. Say calmly to the other kid:

"Leo is using the truck right now. You can have a turn when he is all done."

Then, empower your child:

"Leo, tell him: 'I'm still playing. I'll let you know when I'm done.'"

Scenario B: YOUR kid wants a toy

Don’t tell them to go ask to "share." That sets them up for rejection.
Teach them to ask the magic question:

"Go ask her: 'When are you all done?'"

And then—this is the hard part—help them wait.

"Ugh, waiting is so hard. I know you really want that. Let's go dig a hole while we wait for your turn."

Wait, What About the Swing?

Quick reality check: Does this mean my kid can hog the only swing at the park for an hour while a line forms? No.

There’s a difference between a personal toy and public equipment. If there’s a line for the slide or swing, we practice Social Awareness.

"Look, there are three friends waiting. Let’s do 10 more big pumps, and then it’s time to hop off."

That’s not forced sharing; that’s just living in a community.

The Magic Moment

The craziest thing happened when I started doing this. I thought my kid would hold onto toys forever. But once he realized his "turn" was actually protected? He relaxed.

He played for a few minutes, got bored, and then—totally on his own—handed the truck to the other kid.

No tears. No resentment. Just a genuine "Here you go."

And honestly? That voluntary kindness is worth a thousand times more than a forced "sorry."