So many emotions run through me as the days are getting closer to my daughter flying the nest.
She is pulling away and has been for months. The last college letters should be coming in soon.
Seventeen years went by way too fast. Everyone says this and it’s true. Almost 18 years ago, my life changed forever. Being a mom has been my identity for a long time. As a mother, I have been a friend, confidant, provider, driver, party host and more.
Transitions and change are hard. They are inevitable but that still doesn’t make them any easier. I’ve been trying to stand back and let her find herself. Sometimes she wants me close and other times she doesn’t. It’s painful for me to not feel as important to her anymore.
When you become a mother, your heart explodes with joy. It’s the miracle of life that you get to watch unfold for the next 18 years of your life. 18 years is a long time and then it goes by in a split second.
My daughter is something I am very proud of. She’s smart, kind, a good friend, strong willed and fiercely independent. She is everything to me.
From watching her movements and moods, I know she can’t wait to leave and start her adult life. Why does this hurt my feelings? I want my little girl back most days and I’m holding tight to these last few months even though she is letting go.
I’m not ready but she is. I wanted to raise a strong and confident daughter, and that is what happened. Yet, I know I must let go. I am sitting here at the beach with my computer in hand searching for the strength and guidance to help ease the pain of this process. Any thought or mention of her leaving and my eyes swell, filling them with warm tears.
Letting go is a strange right of passage. It is inevitable and yet so depressing. Feeling as I am no longer needed, is a struggle.
Letting go is starting to make me feel empty inside yet I know it is inherent to her successful adult life.
The process of letting go, which is already starting 6 months too early, is full of anticipation, anxiety, stress and for me, sadness. But, writing this already makes me feel better. The healing process of writing is unreal!
Being a parent is challenging. There are obstacles in every stage of their lives but this one is hitting me like a ton of bricks. The little sweet baby, full of hair and life that we created, is ready to be on her own.
So, I’ll tell my daughter that I am proud of her. I respect her decision to be independent. But, until then could you carve some time out for me? I promise to let you fly.
I’ll tell my daughter that I trust her. Trust and honesty are a big part of this smooth transition. I trust her intuition and confidence and I know it will take her far.
I’ll tell my daughter I love her and will always be here for her, even if she doesn’t always choose me as her person to confide in.
My daughter, you have taught me so much. I’ve also grown up with you. You have shown me so many amazing aspects of life that I never knew existed.
In September, I will lose a piece of me but I hope to find a new one.