As September approaches, my daughter is soon to start college. For the first time in my life, I will experience another of the most prominent life transitions: becoming an empty-nester — a word that still sounds alien to me.
This is usually the point where well-meaning people will suggest that I “just” dive into hobbies or travel more. They say it as if these things can fill the void of an empty house. Then there are those who, unable to read the room, comment on how lucky I am to have the house to myself now so I can finally relax.
They didn’t mention the bittersweet nature of watching your child grow up, each milestone a mixture of pride and heartache.
And now, with this significant transition on the horizon, I look back, reflecting on all the silent goodbyes that have quietly prepared me for this moment. Each one is a tribute to the journey of letting go.
The silent goodbyes as the first step in letting go as a parent
I still remember her first day of preschool. She had a tiny backpack and new shoes, and her face was filled with excitement mixed with apprehension.
That day marked the beginning of her journey toward independence. As I watched her walk through those school doors, I felt a sense of sadness mixed with pride. It was the first of many goodbyes, a small but significant step in letting go.
I remember her first sleepover as if it were yesterday. I packed her overnight bag and reassured her she’d have fun. I spent the whole night wide awake, worrying if she was okay. That was the first time our home felt empty without her, a preview of what would come.
As she grew older, the decisions became more significant: choosing her clothes, making friends, handling conflicts, and having her first boyfriend. I still remember how her eyes lit up when she talked about him, the late-night phone calls, and the weekend plans.
My little girl was growing up and needed me a little less each day. I cherished our heart-to-heart talks, during which she sought my advice, knowing that one day, she wouldn’t need my guidance as much.
She also recently got her first job, and I was over the moon with pride. She was so eager to take on responsibility, earn her own money, and start carving out her place in the world. But it also meant more time away from home, more moments where I wasn’t needed.
Navigating the subtle shifts of empty-nest
She’s packing for college, and I’m confronted with the reality of an empty nest. Through all those small goodbyes, I’ve been preparing for this moment in pieces. Yet, the finality of it hits hard. It’s a mix of pride, grief, and gratitude. I’m proud of the young woman she’s become, grieving the daily presence of my child and grateful for all the memories we’ve made.
There’s this misconception that becoming an empty-nester is a one-off event. For example, when your child turns 18, moves out, or goes to college, the process starts long before they leave home. It’s in the moments when they make plans without checking in, solve problems on their own, and when your daily life stops revolving around their schedule. Empty-nesting is more about the shifts inside you as your children enter adulthood. This gradual, ongoing process reshapes our identities and lives long before and after they leave.
Closing reflection
As I sit here in the stillness of my home, I reflect on all those silent goodbyes. Each is a step toward this moment, a lesson in love and letting go. It’s a path we walk as parents, filled with joy, tears, and profound growth.
But it’s true what they say. With every ending, there is a new beginning. This mix of emotions — worry, pride, hope — is part of the bittersweet transition of seeing our children step into the real world. I hope to see my daughter take on new challenges, make her own decisions, and continue to grow in her life journey.
For now, I am focusing on letting go. And that’s okay. It’s normal to feel this way, to sit with these emotions, and to allow myself to process this huge life change.
So, to those who suggest I dive into new hobbies or travel more—maybe I will start exploring more shores and beach hop around the world. Italy has always called to me; perhaps it’s finally time for that solo trip I’ve always dreamed of.
But for now, I will embrace these feelings of letting go, one silent goodbye at a time.
