Why an ‘Empty Nest’ is the Bittersweet-est of all things…

If, like me, you are facing the prospect of your children leaving home, how are you feeling?

Are you excited for your next phase, or dreading it?

Watching the Blackbirds in my garden this week preparing for their fledglings to leave the nest has resonated more than usual this year, as I contemplate my own looming ‘empty nest’ and what it means for me.

It’s a time that (by my reckoning anyway) is one of life’s most bitter-sweet moments.

It’s a change that as a parent we know is coming from the day they are born (all being well, and if we are lucky enough to be here to see it). 

It’s the natural order of things (as the Blackbirds have reminded me).

The ‘signing off’ of a job (hopefully well-enough) done. 

And yet…

As I reflect on exactly where I am right at this moment I am aware of a complex web of emotions tangling around me.

The Empty Nest Conundrum

The phrase ‘empty nest’ is rather an emotive one- as it implies that what is left behind is somewhat devoid of life.  No longer with purpose.

Which is reflective of some of what I am feeling, in a way. 

BUT I wouldn’t go as far as to say I am feeling that my life will be fully devoid of any meaning or that everything will feel like an empty void (although I recognise that for some parents this IS entirely how they feel at the prospect).

What I am wondering how different things will feel when The Teen is not around every day. Because it is in the day to day that I think I will miss his presence the most.

I’m feeling some sadness that I won’t be able to share the little silly moments we have with the cat, the conversation at the kitchen sink where I get to be curious with him about the world.  I will miss his humour, our shared eye-rolling at some of life’s tedium. 

At the same time, I won’t miss the mountain of washing, the constant demand for food or the soggy dish cloths (but yes, I know, at least he does some washing up!)! 

I am also contemplating how my role as a parent is shifting (again). 

I need to let go. 

But this doesn’t mean letting go of HIM.  I sincerely hope that he will always be present in our lives (he has told us that we “haven’t been terrible parents” - so I guess I’ll take that as a win!!). 

It does mean letting go of the current status quo, though. And it means loosening the ties we have had, to enable him to take the big steps away from us, find his own way and discover who he is as an independent, unique human being – a journey he started ‘here’ in our little family nest, but one he needs to complete ‘out there’ in the big wide world.

And that leaves us behind, still in the nest.

So as he’s preparing to leave, we too need to rediscover who we are both as individuals, beyond the parental role, and together.  We need to readjust our relationship, which (in my case) becomes just us two again, after being the three of us. 

We need to find our new normal, our life with him still in it but in a different, more separate from us, way. 

And with this comes opportunity.

Where some parents may really struggle with the prospect of the empty nest, needing to find a way to enrich their lives and find meaning to deal with the feelings of loss, others see it as ‘their’ time.

For others, the emptying of the nest doesn’t render it devoid of life, but rather opens-up opportunity to fill it with new things, a time of full throttle to adventure” for new experiences, freedom to travel, to take up new hobbies, to reinvent yourself.

They cannot WAIT for the relative peace, quiet, a tidy house and a fridge that doesn’t empty within 3 hours of being filled.  They may even feel a sense of impending relief that they can get their life ‘back’ and release responsibility for the unruly and emotionally draining human in their midst. 

And I feel a bit of this too.

For some people, it’s a relief.

For others, it will feel like the deepest grief.

As for me, I have a veritable ‘mixology’ of emotions.

The Next Phase of Life as we know it!

So, here I am, standing on the edge of the ‘next phase’ of our lives as a family.

Trying to make sense of the ingredients of the emotional cocktail.

I feel wonderment and some pride that we have managed to successfully (for the most part) nurture another human being from teeny weeny helpless thing, to fully grown, almost fully fledged, kind, intelligent, healthy and largely content, human being.

I am experiencing some sadness and anticipating the gap that will be left when he is not here all the time, and a sense of loss that things won’t be as they were (as for the most part we’ve enjoyed the ride - warts and all!).

I feel excited and happy for him.  And I feel anxious about what the world has in store (and I will be worrying whilst he’s on the other side of the world!)

I’m reflecting on who I am, what am I here for, and beginning to connect with the ‘next phase’ version of me, in readiness.

AND I’m feeling happy and whistful as I reminisce about the fun we’ve had on this journey of life we’ve been on together so far.

I am preparing to ‘let go’ of a way of life that has been the ‘norm’ for 18 years or more AND relishing the fantastic opportunity this gives me to get intentional about what comes next, all at the same time.

I’m giving a thought to women who maybe thought they’d have an empty nest, but who just found themselves not having children, for whatever reason, and how this time of mid-life might feel for them, those who thought they’d experience it, but whose children never made it this far, and those who were never lucky enough to be here to see to the day.

And this makes me feel enormous gratitude that I get to have this life experience.

I don’t feel ready, yet.

But I will be.

And I know when the time comes I will feel both happy AND sad.

And that’s OK. 

I will be OK.

It’s also important that The Teen knows that I (we) will be OK - so that he feels free to go forth and be who he wants to be, and do the things he wants to do, with no guilt about leaving us ‘behind’.

This will be a time of emotional mixology: a cocktail of excitement, pride in a job completed, joyful anticipation of the freedom and new opportunity - blended with anxiety, sadness, a little fear, and maybe some lostness.

I think this mash-up of all the things is probably what is true for most of us.

That’s as it should be.

It’s the definition of Bittersweet.

We have to let them go and create our new path without them, in order to let them fly and find theirs.

What are your thoughts? Let me know in the comments!

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