By Don Elium, MFT
When a spouse, a relative, a friend, or a family member says, "It isn't fair," most people hear a criticism. However, anyone who listens beneath the surface—understand it is much more than that. It serves as a flare, a signalng that someone is struggling to fully articulate something that is not quite there yet. Beneath that small phrase often lies a complex emotional truth: a mix of in the words to express something that needs more air, more words: grief, resentment, exhaustion, and longing.
In family systems, fairness is rarely distributed clearly. Roles develop early, often without consent.
Trying to maintain the peace, parents often feel overwhelmed. Marriages fray. Friendship circumstances change. The phrase "It isn't fair" can mark the moment a long-silent voice finally speaks up—and it rarely pertains to the issue being debated at the surface. It's about history. About emotional labor.
Could be a teenage son watching his older sister spiral out yet again. His parents, distracted by the crisis, overlook his quiet slipping away. When he says, "It's not fair that she always gets away with it," he's not just angry—he's lonely. He wonders what he has to do to matter just as much. Beneath that protest lies a plea: "Will anyone notice me if I don't fall apart?"
Even in seemingly minor disputes, the phrase "It isn't fair" can signal the return of a younger part of the self-identity that never got to protest back then and is finally speaking now. In those moments, we aren't merely witnessing someone express a current frustration; we're observing a flashback—an unresolved emotional truth that has found a crack in the conversation wide enough to escape in an effort to be heard, seen differently, and met with engagement of curiosty instead of defensiveness.
It opens a door; if we pause and lean in, we might ask, "What part of this feels especially unfair to you?" or "Is there more to this?" These questions invite emotional specificity; when that specificity arrives, what seemed like a complaint becomes more clear. The speaker may realize they're not just upset about this weekend or this fight; they're exhausted from a pattern that has never been named.
In families and close friendships, fairness often masquerades as equality. However, emotional fairness rarely means everyone gets the same; it means everyone is requesting to get what they need. When needs go unmet for too long, resentment starts to ferment. "It isn't fair" is often the first sign that someone's internal balance is trying to right itself through clarity. Maybe they've been giving more than they've been receiving and need to be witnessed before they can reset.
This phrase also signals risk. Saying "It isn't fair" out loud in a family system can feel dangerous; it disrupts the known script or a story that maybe once was true but is not longer. Leaning into “It isn’t fair” differently can expose a hidden ledger of emotional debts and asking others to confront something they may not be ready to face. It often gets shut down quickly—minimized, redirected, or turned into a debate. But if held gently, it can transform the conversation entirely toward clarity, relief, and letting go of some misunderstanding; a re-connection of the heart?
Ultimately, when someone says, "It isn't fair," they're not asking you to fix everything. They are asking you to listen differently, feel with them, and see something they've been holding alone. In that way, the phrase isn't just a complaint—it's a crack in the wall, an opening for truth, connection, and healing; not always comfortable, but always vital.
So the next time you hear those three words—"It isn't fair"—don't rush to explain or defend. Try to pause, reset, get curious, and ask what they've been carrying that deserves attention. “It isn’t fair” can become an opportunity for connection. It will be bumpy, but if you engage with the bumps with curiosity and compassion, you may hear the real story waiting to be told, and new doors can open.
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will met you there.” —-RUMI
“The past does not create the present, unless you insist.” —ALAN WATTS