The Long Goodbye
The moment I found out my daughter was heading off to graduate school early, I felt a whirlwind of emotions. Pride, joy, fulfillment—these were all at the forefront. After all, this was what I had been preparing her for—her next chapter, her leap into the world. It was something to celebrate, a culmination of hard work and resilience. But what I didn’t expect was how deeply unprepared I was for what came next: the quiet, yet heavy, realization that I would have to let her go.
It’s a familiar story for so many caregivers—whether our children are leaving for college, studying abroad, traveling, or starting their careers, the departure is often filled with bittersweet contradictions. On one hand, we encourage our children to embrace life, explore the world, and seek independence. But on the other, there’s a tight knot in our stomachs, a quiet voice in our heads that questions: How will I protect them now? How do I trust the world with something so precious?
For me, it wasn’t just the physical distance—1027.3 miles, 14 hours and 42 minutes to be exact—it was the emotional distance that felt insurmountable. My first child, my first experience of joy, was no longer within my reach, and I found myself signing an invisible contract that said I trusted educators, institutions, and strangers with her safety and growth. And while I wanted to be transparent about my fears, how could I burden her with that when she was celebrating the beginning of something monumental?
The Emotional Rollercoaster
Caregivers don’t often get to speak about the ambivalence we feel when our children leave. The emotions are vast, ranging from fear to pride, joy to grief, and often all at the same time. It’s okay to feel that anger because you didn’t expect it to be so hard. It’s okay to cry one moment and laugh the next. In those moments of reflection, I kept asking myself, How do I reconcile this flood of emotions? How do I let go of the fear and worry I tell my children not to let dictate their lives?
The truth is, we don’t talk enough about the mental health challenges caregivers face when children leave the nest. Society encourages us to be strong, to “have it all together,” when in reality, we are grappling with so many contradicting emotions. Studies show that each year, millions of young adults leave home to pursue education, careers, and exploration. The U.S. Census Bureau reported that in 2023, roughly 18.6 million students were enrolled in college across the country. These numbers tell the story of young adults branching out, but what about the parents and caregivers they leave behind? Who is holding space for us?
The Burden of Bravery
It’s important to acknowledge the bravery it takes to allow our children to grow, to let them venture out into a world that we can’t control. We vow to protect them from the moment they are born, yet as they step into their own, we realize that protection isn’t always possible from afar. And that can be terrifying. As parents, we face the pressure of ensuring our children have everything they need—from financial stability to emotional support—while trying to maintain our own sense of balance. For me, with two children still at home and one across the country, the financial pressures didn’t lessen—they just changed form. The bills didn’t decrease because she left home; they just had different names attached.
The “what-ifs” become constant companions. What if she struggles without me? What if she needs something I can’t give her from so far away? What if she fails? What if she thrives so much that she no longer needs me at all? The mental gymnastics are exhausting, and sometimes it feels impossible to silence those questions. But here’s the thing: it’s okay to sit in that discomfort. It’s okay to feel every bit of that fear, the frustration, the pride, and the uncertainty. These emotions don’t make us weak; they make us human.
A Time for Reflection
In these moments, we are called to do what we so often ask of our children: reflect, grow, and embrace the unknown. It’s okay to take a step back and honor where we are in this journey, recognizing that these changes are as much about us as they are about our children. The transition is not just theirs; it’s ours, too.
I had to learn that there is no shame in admitting that I wasn’t ready. That as much as I wanted to be transparent about my fears, I struggled to voice them because they seemed so counter to the joy my daughter was experiencing. I didn’t want to project negativity onto her. But the truth is, this journey is not just hers to celebrate; it’s also mine to process, sit with, and accept. Letting go is hard, but it’s a necessary part of growth—for both of us.
Finding Strength in Vulnerability
The pressures we face as caregivers can feel overwhelming at times. The weight of caring for children in different places, managing finances, and navigating a new reality of being a parent from afar—all while grappling with our own mental health—can be crushing. But here’s the silver lining: vulnerability is where strength is found. The courage to feel all of these emotions, to sit with the ambivalence, and to still move forward—that is resilience. That is bravery.
As caregivers, we deserve the space to honor our feelings, even when they are messy and complicated. We are allowed to feel afraid, to feel proud, to question, and to worry. And most importantly, we are allowed to trust that our children—no matter how far away—carry with them the values, the love, and the strength we’ve instilled in them.
So, to all the caregivers in this season of transition: take a breath, feel every emotion as it comes, and know that you are not alone. Your fears are valid. Your pride is earned. And your children, out in the world, are a reflection of your love and dedication. It’s okay to feel joy, sadness, anger, and laughter all at once. This is part of the beautiful, complicated process of letting go.
And in the end, as much as we release them into the world, we remain their anchor, always guiding them back to safety, no matter the distance.
