Filling the Void After the Kids Leave Home: Who Are We When We Aren’t Being Parents?

Last week, a dear friend of mine drove her eldest child off to college. It is every parent’s dream – your child is healthy and strong enough to leave the nest, to embark on their own adventures, to experience independence and to become whoever it is they are supposed to be. It is a testament to their emotional resilience, as well as to our guidance as their parents. 

As I was comforting this friend when she got back, I said, “It is what we want most for them, right? And then they leave, and we are shattered.” To which she replied, “Yes, and now our resilience in their absence is a testament to us as mothers, and as women.” Her words stayed with me for days. As so many are experiencing this right now, I found myself repeatedly sharing her wisdom to all who would listen.

While this is affecting just as many fathers as mothers, for this piece I am focusing on Moms and the space this role holds for us for so long; and what happens to that space when it is no longer filled in the same way.

Many of us who are now in our 50s have been the primary caregivers for our children. Not to diminish our partners’ roles in any way. My husband could not have been more supportive, loving, or present in any way, and still is – but my role was much more that of a traditional primary caregiver; choosing to sell my business when I got pregnant with our son and focusing on raising him, changing every diaper, the sleepless nights and feeding every meal.

As the years moved on, however, I felt the shift in how I was needed. Both at home with the kids and in the ways I participated at their schools. “What do you mean there isn’t a place for parent volunteers?” I asked when my kids got to high school. I am embarrassed to say that was not a fictional anecdote. Someone should have taken me by the shoulders, shaken me and said, “Dude, your son has facial hair. He doesn’t want you selling tickets to Homecoming at drop off.” In my head, this person called me Dude. 

On more and more weekend nights, our teens are now off with friends, and I find myself wondering what it will be like when they are both off at college. Our son is a Senior in high school, so we won’t have to wonder for much longer as he will be gone before we know it. Just writing that made my eyes well up. 

They are taller than me now, not only because my husband gave them the height gene but also because I am getting older, I might be shrinking. I found this to be an interesting metaphor as to how our roles are shifting. As they get older, they get bigger, and as I get older, I am getting smaller. Not in reality or in my own mind, just in my role as their mother. And yet, intellectually, I know they need me now more than ever. To serve as a bumper in case they veer off track, or a sounding board if they need to mull something over; and occasionally to shed light on a bad decision. 

When my son was an infant, I called my older sister one day crying. “I will never, ever be able to leave him at school with strangers!” I exclaimed, already worried about leaving him at kindergarten… in five years. Being a mother of five, she very wisely told me that none of this happens before we are ready. Meaning, as an infant, of course the idea of leaving him at school for six hours would terrify me, but when he is five, it might be a bit more palatable. Uh, on the first day of school I might have been that parent that cried at the door for a while. But even now, her words still ring true as my kids approach 16 and 18. When I look at them, I see people, not babies. But am I “ready” for them to leave? Hell no.

What are we when we
are not being “Moms.”
That answer is different
for each of us.

Some years ago, I knew this time was drawing near and that perhaps it was time to fortify my intellectual and emotional reserves. So, I went to grad school, then to Duke to become a certified health coach, took my National Boards and stalked this publication until they let me become their health columnist. I was laying the groundwork for a life beyond being Mom. I had to. For my own sanity and for my family’s. I was clinging too much. Worrying too much. Needing too much. It wasn’t healthy. 

I have been talking with many friends about this over the last few years and it seems to be a common theme. What are we when we are not being “Moms.” That answer is different for each of us. I have friends who have always worked while parenting, some who have worked part-time, and some who are very engaged in the community without “working” – and everything in between. But for us all, the question remains the same; “How will we fill the void once they leave?”

Each of us has different life circumstances, so that answer will vary greatly. Some will be experiencing the empty nest on their own, while others will still be with their partners. The essence of the issue, however, remains the same. What is your purpose each morning and every night now that it doesn’t involve the machinations of child-rearing? I believe the key is to find purpose, whatever that means to you. For me it is a combination of giving back as a volunteer, creativity through my writing, building my business, refocusing on my 28-year marriage and being a couple again. Not just parents out without the kids. But a couple. It is interesting how much meaning that alone can take on once you start thinking about it. 

I would suggest planning in advance for this rather than waiting for the mic drop. And to slowly start laying the groundwork now. Otherwise, it will be you, the empty U-Haul, a box of Kleenex and the long road home. All you need is some country song playing and it will officially be the mascara-running-clichéd-video montage.

I wish you luck, wisdom, inspiration, good friends, a weighted stuffed animal (just get one, trust me) – and might I suggest putting away the photo albums for a while?

And when you figure it all out, please let me know, as I am still taking baby steps.