Jamin read a tweet the other day {I can’t find it anymore, so I made my own}. I haven’t heard anything truer. We’re all in different phases, especially in our forties.
I felt a real sense of dread when I had children of my own. I received the message loud and clear from others ahead of me that when children leave the nest, it’s OVER. My purpose as a mom and, therefore, a woman is over. Said offspring will walk through a portal, never to return again, and I’d better hope Jamin and I still have something in common because, you guessed it, it’s also over. My house built upon the sand shalt disintegrate. Because over. Mothers in what felt like stages light years ahead of me would look longingly upon my small children as if in some odd, foreboding moment from Lord of the Rings, where their eyes glowed and voices echoed. They would speak, warning me of a dark future filled with crust and cobwebs, doomed to wander in the forest of loneliness forever. “One day, they grow up, and it’s all over.” –that’s literally how they said it, in case you didn’t catch the message. It was usually paired with “Soak up every moment. You will miss this”.
And that was just the produce aisle of the grocery store whilst holding my youngest like a surf board, all because I wouldn’t let him lick the cart. It felt like this:
Cue the record screech, but you can stop now. Maybe it’s a projecting thing. Maybe it’s a generational thing, so I’m honestly grateful to those who have gone before us because I’m allowed more freedom as a woman. Maybe some of it is that I just found myself around the wrong people at the wrong time with lots of regrets in their lives.
But I made a personal decision a long time ago, that while I really enjoy being a mom more than anything, and I am so very grateful, I can also have multiple goals and purposes in my own life.
I support women and their right to choose. Periodt. Let’s get that out of the way so people can douse their misplaced angry mob torches. One life isn’t more important than the other based on the choices made within it. No kids vs. Kids. Marriage vs. No marriage. Career. etc. Everyone is different. It’s okay to choose. And it’s okay to go against the grain. Really. It’s kind of sad I actually have to put this obligational disclaimer here.
But the message “This is it, it’s all over after this,” isn’t cutting it.
Having a senior this year made me reorganize and separate some of these messages that were unintentionally {and let’s be honest, some of it was intentional} handed to me. I was too young when it was ingrained in me to realize that projecting is a thing, and you have to sort through the nonsense and static to form your own views.
Yes, I miss those sweet little faces. Yes, I’d love to go back and spend a day. {About Time is one of my favorite movies, to be honest.} But I also actually really like my teenagers, for starters. And I don’t miss the disturbing lack of sleep, or having a Lego perpetually lodged in my foot.
Now I’m the one with misty eyes, looking at the bedraggled moms with babies and toddlers crawling all over them, and I want to whisper, “Hang in there. I see you putting in the work. It just gets better.”
And no, I don’t miss that. I won’t tell them that they will, either.
We had a four-day weekend for President’s Day, and when we were back to our regularly scheduled programs, I looked at Jamin and said, “What on earth will it feel like when we can sleep in whenever we want? And not just during breaks or summer? Just because. ” I mean, we probably won’t, but the possibilities are endless. I like keeping my options open, and stuff.
So, while I’ve already experienced the roller coaster of emotions that come with having a senior {I’m sure there are more coming}, I’m also in a peaceful place. The only real guarantee in life is that things will change. While I was programmed to be filled with dread, I can see these changes coming for us in the distance, and you know what? It looks kinda nice. I mean, if it’s going to happen, we may as well live gloriously in the meantime. There appears to be golden sunlight and lots of time to pursue things I never had time for, and what’s this I see… maybe even a little traveling? {Spontaneous, repetitive getaways are kind of impossible for us right now while also running a business.} So, I feel like this is just the beginning.
Not a cobweb in sight.
I made a decision a long time ago to embrace every stage just as it is. It’s’ not easy, but isn’t it the only option we really have? It’s that, or be the ‘regrets’ lady who grabs my kid’s ankles, whispering sad futures with glowing eyes a-la LOTR in the produce aisle. Ummm, you’re not being helpful, JaNiCE
So, I’ve found myself observing the moms in this generation who are a few steps ahead of me, and honestly, they’re doing it right. That doesn’t mean it’s not hard. But I’m seeing strong women living the best version of themselves.
“C” wrote on one of my posts that “the 18 summers people need to settle down.” I couldn’t agree more. There’s a heavy message of guilt circulated amongst parents, and I’m done with it. Our children don’t walk through a portal, never to return again. Babies do not, in fact, keep. It’s a shame. But no one is taking away our parental cards when they graduate, either. We’re still their parents, and if we’re doing it right, we’re also their friends. We get to grow with them continuing through adulthood because we’re cultivating real relationships. And we also get to live our own best lives in the next phase, too. {I know. How dare we.}
So here’s to the new empty nesters. You may not realize it, but we’re watching you. And you’re making it all look really, really good.
To the mom with glowing skin, who posted her picture holding her friend’s baby on Facebook to get that baby fix.
To the woman rebuilding her life, and taking a new direction.
To those in my workout classes often, who are still getting after it, especially for their mental health.
To my friend who just took an awesome vacation and is loving every moment.
To those who are cultivating new things and learning and evolving as humans.
To the moms who are breaking those old boundaries put upon us by expectations and society, doing fresh things.
To those who are soaring in their careers.
To those reinventing themselves.
To those who are enjoying the quiet and embracing right where they are.
I see you.
Thank you for giving us something to look forward to. Thank you for living your best life despite the hard emotions. We’re watching you. Cheers to the new empty nesters. And also, here’s to soaking it up in the meantime.
PS. Florida is starting to look really nice. Specifically, the Keys. {That may also be in my snowbird era?}
Mason from Lubbock says
My oldest (of 4) is a senior this year. Crazy how fast it goes. So many emotions for us as he navigates what is next. Great post.
charles west says
I dread the days my nest will be empty…