An empty(ing) nest...

A Facebook memory popped up this morning- four years ago my second daughter moved down to Otago University. Ten days later I turned 40, which was followed closely by our eldest daughter moving out and turning twenty-one. And whilst the second one did move back home for a time at the end of that student year, home life was suddenly never the same from that day four years ago.

It wasn’t until I looked back that I realised it was traumatic for me.  A few things were going on:

Processing ageing/mid-life: The impact of turning 40… if you’ve been there you can probably relate that it’s quite a milestone.  (now it’s starting to look young booohooohooo… haha)

Simultaneously feeling ‘too young’: “It’s too early for this!’ - It felt too soon for me to have my first and second children move out. The girls were 17 & 20 years old, it was relatively young for them to move out (and within two months of each other).  Though I was aware that they were in early adulthood, empty nest age was for later in life, wasn’t it..?!  I felt blindsided by these events that took place in quick succession.

Feeling a big void, physically and emotionally: I ‘lost’ the company of my two daughters. The dinner table seemed significantly fleeced, the house now had two spare rooms - empty is the best word to describe the feeling.  The spotlight was turned on our younger two and they sensed it, it was like their position in the family changed overnight, my third became the firstborn in a way.  My daughters, whether rightly or wrongly, were good friends of mine and of the younger two.  I also hadn’t been aware they were a massive buffer and support system for me in parenting the younger two; and their behaviour showed they were struggling to adjust. 

An identity shake up: I had been a mother for over two decades; more than half my life.  I had never worked full time.  I had never been alone much.  Though I had kept my important friendships alive, and had worked small part time hours all the way through, I didn’t realise how much ‘mother’ was part of my identity.

Mostly triggered by childhood trauma: I was in a panic with uncontrollable feelings - the sense that my family was being torn apart – all the dynamics had suddenly changed.  I felt ‘left behind’, bereft; abandoned even.  All this had uncomfortable parallels to my parents sudden separation. I felt like a lost little girl, all because my daughters moved out?!

I was in new territory with unmanageable emotions all around and I made some poor choices day to day.  It showed me that even though I had done a lot of work (therapy, counselling), there was more to do…

To highlight this fact, at the same time my third child started intermediate.  This may not sound special but it was the same intermediate school where I had a breakdown of sorts after visiting my mum as a fragile 11 year old.  (that’s blogged separately).  I’d had the first two go through this same school but somehow this year was when it hit – possibly brought on by everything else.  It added to it being a year of feeling like I was the 11 year old me again, scrambling around, searching for a hand, drowning.  Sounds heavy but all sorts of scum floated to the top for me that year.  I remember going to meet his teacher and walking past my old classroom on my way and shuddering, holding back tears.  Terribly uncomfortable feelings.

“But He knows the way I take; When He has tried me, I shall come forth as gold.” ~ Job 23:10

God will be working on me til the day I die but a lot of intense work took place during that year, I was stripped back and rebuilt, clearly he thought I was ready and needed it. I have just a few simple thoughts I would suggest about that experience:

-       Be aware that change, little/big change, can rock the boat, don’t feel surprised that it does!

-       Make and hold space for the feelings that rush in. Accept them, allow them, feel them

-       Journaling might help, write it down honestly. You’ll get to know yourself better as more than just a mum as you re-read your journaling too.

-       Pray and cry, cry, CRY.  Welcome the tears.  (that was professional advice I got!)  We often talk about ‘going through’ things, it’s so tempting to ‘go around’ things.  Crying, for me, was a great way to process and go through it.

-       Know that the grief won’t last forever.  You will feel strong again and have a renewed sense of vision and purpose.  You’ll be stronger than before.  You’ll be okay.

Your relationship with your kids will change when they move out, but the relationship does NOT end!  For me, the friendship is even better.  It’s healthy that they became more independent, they know door is open if they need, and our relationships feels more respectful and balanced.

I used to feel that it was a year where scum came to the surface - I now prefer to word it as a ‘purification process’ - we don’t know what anything is made of or capable of, until it is tested. That year I was tested and re-tested.

I know I’m gonna be reading this to myself again when my boys move out, and I hope I’ll remember that I got through once, I’ll do it again…so will YOU!

“You shall remember all the way which the Lord your God has led you in the wilderness these forty years, that He might humble you, testing you, to know what was in your heart...  He humbled you and let you be hungry, and fed you… that he might make you understand that man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” Deuteronomy 8:2-3