My Roomier Nest Story

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I’ve just dropped off my youngest son at college. And rather than focus on my home being an empty nest, I like to think of it as my roomier nest. 

As I talk about this emotional stage of life, I don't want you to feel afraid or worried (like many moms do). I hope that by sharing my story and perspective, you’ll feel less alone and understand what we’re really going through during this time. 

My Roomier Nest Story

On Sawyer’s drop-off day, I really didn’t know how I would feel. I didn’t start the day in my big feelings, but I recognized that I’d been finding ways to procrastinate and avoid this day all summer. I really didn’t want to even think about him leaving. Even as the time grew closer, I kept myself busy with the practical pieces, the shopping, the planning.

When move-in day came, I noticed that I was grumpy and testy, which is unusual for me. When I got in my car after a physical therapy appointment, I suddenly felt so sick - nauseous and heavy, like I’d been punched in the stomach. 

The closest name I could give the emotion was dread. But it wasn’t in my head. It was fully in my body. Something in my very core did not feel good. As soon as I got home, I started to cry really hard. 

I pulled it together for an amazing call with the Calm Mama Club, and when I got off of Zoom, I went numb. I kept going through the motions of running errands, packing up the car and riding to Santa Barbara. 

But through the whole drive, I could tell that my nervous system was on fire. I didn’t feel safe. I was anxious and on edge. I was breathing quickly and sweating. Again, it was such a physiological reaction. 

We got him moved in and met up with my older son for dinner. Afterward, it was time for Sawyer to go to an orientation meeting and start his dorm life. There wasn’t really a reason for us to go back with him, so we said goodbye in front of the sushi restaurant and he drove away. 

It wasn’t how I pictured it. I thought we’d go back to his dorm, I’d take some pictures, we’d have some more time. As my husband and I started driving home, I wasn’t having a ton of feelings and I got really chatty (the opposite of my reaction when we left Lincoln at school the year before). 

But as we took the exit toward our house, my body went haywire. I got this overwhelming feeling in my stomach. Without getting too graphic, I made it home and spent the next 2 hours in the bathroom. It was like a physiological grief. I wasn’t thinking my feelings. I was feeling them fully in my body. 

To be honest, all of this was a bit of a shock to me. I hadn’t been feeling much. I thought I was okay. But the body never lies. We store stress in our bodies, and our bodies communicate with us. 

Finally, I fell asleep. When I woke up, I felt like someone had died. It was a deep, deep grief. My past experiences of grief have been physiological, too. I get very tired and achy. I need to be cozy in my bed. So that’s what I’ve been doing - getting up for the must-dos of my day and then retreating back to my bed.

All of this to say, your reaction to this change may not be what you expected. It might sneak up on you or show up in a surprising way. Whatever you feel and however those feelings come up are okay.

A New Stage

My youngest son moving out marks the end of my motherhood years. Some part of my identity and my existence has ended. I need to allow this chapter of my life to come to a close.

I loved raising kids, and the experience changed me on a deep level. I’ve used this opportunity to become aware, heal, evaluate and grow. 

Of course, I’m still a mom. But my kids are adults. They’re grown, and I am about to embark on a new journey.

In order to move on, we have to allow ourselves to grieve. To let go of motherhood as we’ve known it so far and make room for the next stage. You can grieve and feel sorrow while also holding hope for what’s next.

I’m calling my next stage the roomier nest. With more room in my home and my life, I’ll have more time, energy and capacity to love my children and love myself more deeply. 

To use the metaphor of our kids’ lives being a sporting event, I no longer have a courtside seat, but I can’t wait to hear the recap. I love hearing their stories and what’s going on in their lives. And I’ve realized that I want even more than that. 

I want them to come to me before the game and share their strategy. Tell me what they’re thinking and the decisions they’re going to make. I want to be their sounding board and mentor. 

In order to make that happen, I have to step back further and further. I have to let go and be okay with the transition we’re experiencing so that I can create space for what’s next. 

I think this is what we all want. The end goal isn’t just to launch our kids into adulthood. We also want to have amazing relationships with them when they’re grown. 

There is life on the other side of motherhood. I want you to know that it’s okay to grieve, and the next best thing is also right around the corner. 

My belly is upset, but my heart is so full of love, hope and excitement.

You’ll Learn:

• How to find the wisdom in procrastination
• The different ways feelings show up in our bodies and minds
• My take on an empty nest
• What I want out of this next stage