I thought I was ready for this stage of life. I mean, isn’t this what we raise kids for? To grow up, move out, and build lives of their own? That’s what everyone says. But I guess I never listened when anyone says how hard it can feel to suddenly go from being at the center of their everyday world to standing on the sidelines, hoping they’re okay.  I thought I would LOVE this stage.  All the free time.  All the “me” time.

It was so much simpler when they were little. They’d come home from school, drop their backpack, and I’d hear all about their day—who said what, what teacher gave too much homework, which friend made them laugh. I knew what time they went to bed, what they ate, and who they hung out with. I was part of the rhythm of their lives.

Now? I have no idea what time they go to sleep, who they’re with, or what struggles they’re quietly carrying. College and post-college life don’t exactly come with daily updates. Some days I hear a lot, other days I hear nothing. And in that silence, my mind fills in the blanks—sometimes with pride, most of the time with worry (okay, all the time with worry), and sometimes with a longing to know more. I find myself needing/wanting constant validation/confirmation that they are okay every minute of the day.  My mind won’t rest until I know for sure they are good.  It’s killing me (probably literally, the amount of stress can’t be healthy)

The hardest part is watching from afar when I do know they’re struggling. Stress about jobs, friendships, direction—it’s all part of becoming an adult, I know that. And I know I can’t fix it. As much as I want to swoop in with advice, connections, or even just a hug, I also know that if I try to fix everything, I’m robbing them of the lessons they only learn by figuring it out themselves. Growth doesn’t come from having life smoothed out for you. It comes from navigating the rough edges.

Still, it’s tough. There’s a helplessness in this stage of parenting that no one really prepares you for. The job now isn’t to manage their lives—it’s to trust them to live it. My role has shifted from director to cheerleader. I can’t control the play anymore, but I can be in the stands, rooting for them, even when I wish I could step in and call the next move.

I’d love to end this on a hopeful note or a piece of encouragement, but honestly? I’m not there yet. Right now, it feels like I’m still riding the struggle bus. What I would like is to meet up with other parents over a beer or two and talk about it all. Most “groups” I’ve found seem to be for parents dealing with much more serious issues, and that’s not what this is. This is just… normal, everyday hard.

One thing I’ve learned—belatedly—is that for all the times I thought of myself as an introvert or loner, I actually wish I had more friends to see regularly. Turns out, this parenting stage is a whole lot easier if you don’t try to go through it entirely on your own.

I’m an definitely NOT in a flow state lately 🙂