Keeping Score: What Happens When Family Love Isn’t Equal

How the idea of fairness shaped my relationships—and what I’m learning to let go of

The Myth of Fairness

Growing up, we’re taught to keep score. Whether in school or at home, fairness is emphasized: everyone should be treated the same, loved the same, and given the same chances. Playing favorites is frowned upon. We’re told we all get a turn to share, to choose, to shine.

But there are two problems with this. First, life isn’t fair and bad things happen that feel unjust. Second, it sets the unrealistic expectation that adults don’t play favorites, when in reality they often do. And that favoritism—especially in families—can leave deep, lasting wounds.

When Love Feels Unequal

In families, when siblings are loved or treated unequally—or even just perceive it that way—relationships suffer, and self-worth takes a hit. As children, we often assume our parents know what they’re doing. It’s only in adulthood that we begin to understand “family dynamics,” a term that implies that people and relationships within families are the way they are and won’t change.

As grown children, we either accept it because it benefits us, suffer in silence, or walk away. Changing it is not an option because trying to change people—especially how they love—is futile.

A Crossroad at Fifty

As I near 50, I find myself in a difficult place. My relationships with my mother and mother-in-law feel strained and inauthentic—sometimes even toxic with resentment. When I have tried to share my perspective, they have both turned to their other daughter, the ones that occupy their time and attention. As a result, I have been verbally attacked by sister and sister-in-law for trying to screw with family dynamics. They are protecting their supply.

This was a mind-blowing realization: I have completely distanced myself from the four women who, in theory, should be my closest allies.  As I turned this over in my mind, like a rock tumbler polishing sharp-edged thoughts, what emerged wasn’t four smooth stones but four jagged truths with a shared origin. I’m holding onto resentment because I expected equal love, or at least equal treatment.

The Flawed Logic of Scorekeeping

Even as I write this, I recognize the flaw in my thinking. I’m a mother. I know love isn’t quantifiable. It’s messy and shaped by individual needs. Being upset that I didn’t get the “chocolate cake” is emotionally immature—and it only hurts me.

In my family, I’ve always been the achiever. My sister, the one in need. As a result, she’s been supported through missed school buses and divorces, while I’ve been self-sufficient, raising three kids, building a career. I don’t need help, but I do need authentic engagement. When I try to connect, my mom’s focus is elsewhere. I pull back.

And the distance grows.

The Tension Between Sisters

My sister and I have never been close. But now, things are worse than ever. She recently sent me a harsh message accusing me of lacking compassion for our parents. She sees my boundaries as neglect; I see her co-dependence as a form of enabling.

We’re looking at the same situation, but from opposite cliffs.

Left Out by Marriage

With my mother-in-law and sister-in-law, the message has always been subtle but clear: I’m not really part of the family. Social media posts celebrating every member but me—and sometimes even excluding our child. Posts documenting the other grandchildren’s accomplishments and never a mention of my daughter’s achievements. Maybe because they’ve never attended one of her events. Social media may seem petty to dwell on, but when that’s your main view into a family narrative, it matters.

And it hurts.

So again, I withdraw. Again, I let go of authenticity. Again, I keep score.

Letting Go… But How?

These relationships run decades deep, and their roots are tangled in favoritism. I know keeping score only poisons me, but I don’t know how to engage with people who show preference for others without internalizing the pain of being left out.

Mel Robbins would say, “Let them.” Let them favor who they favor. But what then? If I’m the common denominator, am I the problem? Should I change?

I can’t just try not to care—I have to actually not care. And I have to do it without destroying my own sense of worth.

Accepting What’s Available

So what’s the answer? Maybe it’s learning to accept a lesser version of these relationships—accept them as they are, without the chocolate cake. It might not be fair, but it’s what’s available.

Breaking the Cycle

All of this has made me deeply reflective about how I love my own three children. I want each of them to feel equally loved, even if that love looks different. That’s the work I feel my mothers never tried to do. Maybe they didn’t know any better. Maybe they were raised as the favorite and never had to feel what I’m feeling now.

A Final Note

I feel comfortable sharing all of this here because, truthfully, none of the four women I’ve mentioned read my blog. But if I’m wrong…

Hello, family. Welcome to my life.