Yes. Here are 5 things I have learned along the way.
When my first-born daughter was about five days old, my husband walked into her little baby bedroom to find me rocking her in the newly painted hand-me-down glider chair with tears streaming down my face. “What’s the matter?!” he asked with wide-eyed concern. With deep earnestness, I replied, “She’s going to college! In only eighteen years!! That’s so SOON!”
Source: Tubarones Photography/Pexels
While post-pregnancy hormones may have exacerbated my mood that day, the truth is the sentiment stuck. I spent the next 18 years quietly ruing the day she would launch. This fall, it finally happened…and I’m still standing. I am living proof that no matter how much you dread it, no matter how hard it is to imagine life on the other side, and no matter how deeply attached and in love with your child you are, you will be ok. Eleven days out from the big launch, here’s what I have learned.
It’s not what you have imagined
When your kids are little and you imagine them leaving the nest, there is a key ingredient that isn’t in place yet: their readiness. Even if you know, intellectually, that your kids will be ready to leave home by the time they are 18, you can’t feel it yet, because it isn’t there. When you can feel their readiness, your own cells shift. The energetic lines between you shift. You can tolerate the increased space between you without the raw pain you imagined because you can feel their capacity to be on their own. It’s even more than a capacity…it’s a need. You will sense that their wings are about to expand beyond the edges they have known and that they need some space to expand into. That separateness will become not only tolerable, but exciting. Yes, you will miss your little bean from deep within you. But it’s so exciting to watch them widen their world, meet new people, discover new passions, and become even more layered and vibrant versions of themselves. The joy, excitement, and pride temper the grief.
Don’t get on the rollercoaster
Your child will have to ride the inevitable emotional rollercoaster that is the transition to college. Don’t get on the ride. You won’t be able to separate from their moods perfectly—as a parent, it’s a simple truth that their hard days will be your hard days, and you will feel buoyant when they are happy. But try to find your own solid ground, too. Observe their ride with some perspective they can’t yet have. Know that when they are hurting, they will rebound. Know that they are courageous and resilient, even when they forget. They will inevitably struggle. It’s exhausting meeting new people all day, navigating new schedules, establishing new identities, making new decisions. Sometimes they will break down in the process. Your job is to be the steady ground they can turn to for reassurance while they ride the peaks and crash into the troughs.
Take care of you
The solid ground you need to stand on does not emerge out of nowhere, it is born of your own self-care. Take care of yourself. Eat good food, get lots of sleep, exercise. Reach out to friends, make time to think and write and feel, listen to music. Pet your dog. Go to therapy. Do whatever you need to do to take responsibility for finding your own solid ground. Not only is this the best thing you can do for yourself, it’s also what’s best for your transitioning child. Your okay-ness has to depend on you. The alternative is that your newly launched human might feel like they have to be okay so that you don’t suffer. And you might feel like you have to make them be ok so that you don’t suffer. Don’t focus on making them okay, focus on being okay.
Resist the urge to fix it
Your child’s road is not going to be smooth. There will be problems, stressors, and imperfect living conditions. There will be classes they can’t get into, technical difficulties, meal plan problems, and lost IDs. Remember this: do not try to solve their problems. Be curious and compassionate, but don’t try to fix it. Be empathetic and encouraging, but don’t try to fix it. Be a shoulder to cry on or someone to laugh with after the fact, but don’t try to fix it. Those problems serve a really important purpose. Your child’s sense of her own efficacy depends on navigating those glitches. Your child’s sense of having created a home depends on finding his own solutions. Watch in wonder as they show you all they can navigate…but don’t try to fix it. And who knows, maybe what looks like a giant unfortunate setback will end up being the start of something wonderful. And maybe what looks like a perfect moment will lead to unforeseen challenges. The truth is we don’t know their paths, and we can’t sculpt their lives with our own hopes and dreams. So get out of the way and be their greatest fan…but don’t try to fix it.
Embrace the new era
One of the poignant sources of grief in this transition is the realization that an era has ended. A critical, magical, exhausting, defining era has passed: the era of raising your kids at home, living with them full-time, and tending to their daily needs. The loss is real, and it’s important to let the grief about that flow. But there is another truth that we all need to embrace: While a particular era has ended there are things that have not. Being a parent has not ended. Your child being your child has not ended; this incredible blossoming adult will always be your child. Being a family has not ended. These things that do not change are the foundation of a new era, one that includes your child’s expanding world and your own new developing self. Stay open to all of the new adventures ahead, the new roles you can play for each other, the new things you can learn from each other and experience together. One era has ended, but a new one is just beginning.