The Playdate: Who’s Really Playing?

Once upon a playground, the idea of a playdate was simple: children gathered, imaginations ran wild, and connection unfolded in its most innocent form. But somewhere between the juice boxes and the gluten-free banana muffins, the adults joined in,  not with blocks or Barbies, but with personas.

I’ve watched this unfold not just in parks and parties, but in therapy rooms.

Parents arrange playdates, ostensibly for their children. But often, behind the scenes, it becomes something entirely different. The real play happens between the adults  and it’s rarely innocent.

The Adult Playdate: A Different Kind of Theatre

What I often hear from clients sounds less like casual chit-chat and more like act one of a tightly choreographed stage play. There’s the polished parent, the “effortless” one with perfectly curated lunchboxes and pre-rehearsed small talk. There’s the over-sharer, the over-compensator, the one who talks about their child’s milestones like a walking CV. And then, there’s the ghoster, the parent who once eagerly swapped numbers after a promising first “connection,” only to vanish without explanation after one too many vulnerable shares.

It's performative.

Not always intentionally. But the playground becomes a stage. The school gate becomes the backstage dressing room. The WhatsApp chat? It’s less about logistics and more like a backstage whisper, where roles are cast, lines rehearsed, and social scripts subtly negotiated.

This isn’t about blaming parents, it’s about noticing why this happens.

What's Being Played With?

Let’s be honest: these playdates often become the adult version of high school social dynamics on loop. You hear it in therapy:

• “She didn’t invite us this time.”

• “I didn’t know whether I was welcome.”

• “I felt judged.”

• “I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t.”

We say it’s for the kids, but it’s often meeting an unspoken adult need: to belong, to compare, to be seen, or to avoid being alone.

So what’s really going on? A psychological look:

1. Social Comparison Theory Humans have an innate tendency to compare themselves to others in order to evaluate their own abilities and opinions. The modern playdate becomes fertile ground for subtle social benchmarking, parenting styles, home décor, snack quality, developmental milestones.

2. Attachment Styles Some parents show anxious attachment patterns through oversharing or clinginess in new friendships. Others may show avoidant patterns, friendly on the surface, but quick to retreat, withdraw, or ghost.

3. Relational Scripts Many of us unknowingly play out unresolved childhood or adolescent scripts in adulthood. The parent who wasn’t invited to the “cool group” in high school now overcompensates with elaborate birthday invites or becomes hypersensitive to exclusion.

4. Performance vs. Authenticity Carl Rogers’ work reminds us that when there’s a gap between the ideal self and real self, anxiety arises. Playdates often become spaces where the “ideal parent” is showcased, even when the real self is quietly falling apart inside.

What are we really modelling?

Children are watching, not just how we parent, but how we people.

When we arrange playdates but spend them subtly competing, gossiping, ghosting, or pretending, what are we really teaching our children about connection?

That relationships are transactional?

That social inclusion is conditional?

That you have to wear a mask to be accepted?

The playdate becomes a dual-reality: Kids play freely. Adults play cautiously. One is creative chaos. The other is masked choreography.

So what’s the deeper question?

Perhaps it’s this: What are we really seeking in these interactions?

• Is it adult friendship?

• Belonging?

• Validation?

• Distraction from our own loneliness?

And are we prepared to be honest about it?

Because if we keep pretending, we’re not just raising children, we’re raising another generation of performers.

A call to awareness (not judgment)

Next time you arrange a playdate, pause. Ask yourself:

• Am I doing this for my child? Or for me?

• Am I showing up authentically? Or performing?

• What old story might I be playing out here?

And if you’re brave enough, maybe make space for a real conversation. The kind that doesn’t need a stage.

Because maybe the most powerful playdates, are the ones where we stop playing altogether.