It's a classic line. You’ve heard it at family dinners, read it in heated Facebook threads, or maybe even said it yourself while looking back at some questionable childhood memory. "My parents did [X] to me, and I turned out fine." It’s the ultimate conversational shield. It shuts down critique, justifies the status quo, and wraps complex psychological history in a neat little bow. But here’s the thing about the told me/turned out fine logic: it’s statistically messy and emotionally hollow.
Survivor bias is a hell of a drug.
We see this everywhere. From corporal punishment debates to the "we drank from the garden hose and didn't have car seats" nostalgia, the argument relies on a sample size of one. You. Since you are currently standing there, breathing, and presumably holding down a job, the logic dictates that whatever happened in the past was acceptable. It's a binary way of looking at human development. Either you’re "fine" or you’re a total wreck. There’s no room for the middle ground where most of us actually live.
The Survival Fallacy of "Turned Out Fine"
When people lean on the told me/turned out fine defense, they are unintentionally engaging in what psychologists call the "availability heuristic." You remember the things that didn't kill you. You don't necessarily account for the things that stunted your growth or the millions of others who didn't "turn out fine" under the same conditions.
Think about the seatbelt analogy. Before the 1980s, plenty of kids rattled around in the back of station wagons without a single strap holding them down. Many of those kids grew up to be healthy adults. Does that mean seatbelts are unnecessary? Of course not. It just means those specific individuals were lucky enough not to get into a high-speed collision. We can’t use the survivors of a risky era to prove the risk didn't exist.
Actually, it's kinda fascinating how we cling to these narratives. It feels like an attack on our identity to admit that our upbringing or our past choices were flawed. If I admit that my dad shouldn't have been so hard on me, am I saying I'm "broken"? No. But the told me/turned out fine mindset makes it feel that way. It creates a defensive wall.
Why We Use This Logic
- Cognitive Dissonance: It’s painful to acknowledge that the people we love might have made mistakes that affected us negatively.
- Simplicity: It’s easier to say "I'm okay" than to sift through years of behavioral patterns or coping mechanisms.
- Validation: We want to believe our struggles were "character building" rather than just unnecessary.
What Research Actually Says About Resilience
The reality is that "fine" is a very low bar. Dr. Gabor Maté, a renowned expert on trauma and childhood development, often discusses how we mistake "coping" for "thriving." You might have a house and a car, but do you have an avoidant attachment style? Are you prone to workaholism? Do you struggle with a hair-trigger temper?
The told me/turned out fine argument ignores the nuance of the human experience. Research in the Journal of Family Psychology and studies by organizations like the American Academy of Pediatrics have consistently shown that certain "old school" methods—like harsh physical discipline or emotional neglect—are linked to higher rates of anxiety and depression in adulthood. Even if you "turned out fine," you might be carrying a backpack full of rocks that you didn't need to carry.
It’s not about blame.
It’s about data. When we look at large-scale longitudinal studies, the "turned out fine" crowd often shows higher levels of cortisol and different brain architecture in the amygdala compared to those raised with more modern, supportive frameworks. Just because the engine is running doesn't mean it’s tuned correctly.
The Damage of Ignoring the "Told Me" Component
The first half of the phrase—the "told me" part—is often where the misinformation lives. Someone told me that if I didn't learn to "tough it out," the world would eat me alive. Someone told me that kids need to be scared of their parents to be respectful. These are cultural scripts passed down like heirlooms, often without any checking to see if they’re actually true or just convenient.
The problem arises when these scripts become a barrier to progress. If we refuse to acknowledge that we can do better than the generation before us, we stagnate. We stop looking for better ways to lead, better ways to parent, and better ways to treat our own mental health.
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Moving Past the "Fine" Barrier
Breaking out of this cycle requires a weird mix of radical honesty and self-compassion. You have to be okay with the idea that you can love your past while still acknowledging its flaws. You can be "fine" and still want to be "better."
Honestly, the most dangerous part of the told me/turned out fine loop is that it stops curiosity. It says, "The case is closed. No further investigation needed." But life is all about investigation. It’s about realizing that "fine" might just be a lack of imagination for what "great" looks like.
Actionable Steps for Deconstructing Your "Fine"
- Audit Your Default Reactions: When someone suggests a new way of doing things (at work, in parenting, in health), do you immediately get defensive? That "I did it the old way and I'm fine" reflex is a signal. Stop and ask why you're protecting that specific method.
- Redefine "Fine": Start looking at your life through the lens of flourishing, not just survival. Are your relationships deep? Is your internal monologue kind? If the answer is "no" or "sorta," then the told me/turned out fine logic isn't serving you.
- Separate Love from Method: You can acknowledge that a mentor or parent did their best with the tools they had while still recognizing that their tools were outdated. You don't have to defend the tool to love the person.
- Look at the Data: If you're using this logic to justify a health habit or a safety choice, look for actual peer-reviewed studies. Personal anecdotes are not evidence. The fact that your Uncle Larry smoked for 60 years and lived to be 90 doesn't change the statistical reality of lung cancer.
The next time you catch yourself saying those words, pause. It’s a comfortable phrase, but it’s often a lie we tell ourselves to avoid the hard work of change. We deserve more than just turning out fine. We deserve to actually understand how we became who we are, without the defensive filters of the past.
Focus on the evidence. Lean into the discomfort of realizing that things could have been different. That’s where the real growth happens. Stop settling for "fine" and start looking for what's actually true. This isn't just about how you were raised; it's about how you choose to live right now, unburdened by the scripts that were handed to you. Use your own agency to decide what "fine" really means for your future.
Next Steps for Implementation
Start by identifying one specific area—whether it’s your sleep hygiene, your management style, or how you handle stress—where you’ve been using the "I’ve always done it this way and I’m fine" excuse. For one week, consciously try the modern, evidence-based alternative. Observe the difference in your energy levels or your team's reaction. Replacing an old script with a proven practice is the only way to move from surviving to actually thriving.