We all know stories about men who within a year of retirement die of a heart attack or other unexpected ailments. Change is stressful; big change is even more stressful. As much as I enjoy working, I don’t think retirement will be as hard for me as the change was from full-time to part-time mom when my only son went to college.
Parents of “onlies” don’t become empty nesters gradually like my friends with more children. When an only leaves the nest, it’s not a half or third full; it’s suddenly empty. Though friends with more than one have a more gradual experience, many of them recognize that when the youngest leaves, things are going to be very different.
After all the kids have flown the coop, this should be a time of renewed energy. But for many women, empty nests result in an uncomfortable emptiness that isn’t often discussed in polite company. We hate to admit it after complaining all these years, but we actually miss the frenzy of activity created by bouncing from school to soccer to dinner to homework to bed. We finally have time to get to the bottom of our laundry piles, our stacks of bills, our long-forgotten correspondence, but getting to the bottom of things isn’t as fulfilling as we thought it would be.
While raising kids is fraught with challenges and frustrations, it is deeply fulfilling work – not easily replaced by perfecting a golf game or getting to go to a movie in an actual theater whenever you want to. Empty nests also confront us by revealing other barriers to making our dreams come true. I have a friend who swore she’d be a great small business owner if only her kids weren’t constantly interrupting her. I promised to run for office. When the kids are gone, it’s time to put up or shut up. Facing an unfettered future puts a mirror in front of us that is far more confronting than the one that shows emerging crows’ feet.
Separation anxiety
My first year as an empty nester was traumatic, but not as bad as I imagined it would be. I kept asking myself if I was “stuffing” my feelings. I didn’t cry very often, but I missed my son like a limb that had been amputated. I had a vague, aching feeling. I wanted him back, but I knew I could and would have to get along without him. And I felt that I had to be strong for him; he didn’t need a sad sack mother weighing him down.
One of the toughest aspects of an empty nest is finding a way to share our sadness without burdening our children. I became a member of two ENGs (empty nest groups). Other moms with kids in college don’t need much encouragement to join an ENG, and you’ll probably find a lot of interest in going through this tough transition together among moms of your kids’ friends.
During my son’s freshman year, I think we were able to strike a good balance. I saw him every couple weeks; sometimes just going up to his college to take him out for a meal made the pain subside. I realized by how excited he was to see me that he missed me too, and it was OK for me to let him know that I missed him and wanted to see him. However, I didn’t need to call him every time I felt like talking to him. That would have been at least once a day. He deserved to experience independence with support – just as I did when I was his age.
While I was dealing with the trauma of the empty nest, I found there were things besides laundry and bills to catch up on. There were piles of memories, carelessly piled all over the house in the form of photos, programs, and other memorabilia that needed to be sorted. This was both therapeutic and positive from a home organization standpoint. Slowly piles were separated into forgotten useful articles and trash. I found things that I’d been looking for months and sometimes years. Instead of buying something new, I could use what I had because now I could find it!
Probably the most important thing I’ve had time to catch up with is my husband. Like many partners, we were too exhausted to spend a lot of quality time together while we were on the child-rearing roller coaster. (He has a daughter and grandchildren from his first marriage.) We finally have time to do fun things together, but we’re so task-oriented from years of habit that we have to remind ourselves that we can golf together, go on double dates with other couples and take long weekends.
When my son returned to school, we put our dog of 14.5 years down. It’s another one of life’s midlife ironies that our pets often die as our kids go off to school. It’s a function of the fact that we get our pets when our kids are around 5, old enough to help take care of a new dog or cat. Losing our dog and temporarily losing our kid was a double whammy for my husband and me. So we jumped in the car and stayed two nights at one of our favorite resorts. We ate, slept and walked. By the end of the weekend, we felt human again and almost convinced ourselves that we truly enjoyed being animal- and child-free.
Learning to let go and reach out at the same time
I spent at least 10 years in various forms of therapy learning how to feel my feelings (among other things). And I am much healthier emotionally for it. I tried to apply this strategy to empty nesting, recognizing that there was little benefit moping around the house day after day, caressing photos, newspaper clippings and high school memorabilia. Nor was there much benefit in pretending I didn’t miss my son terribly and that my identity hadn’t been strangely altered.
I tried to strike the balance between acknowledging my sadness and moving on by talking with other moms about this loss. In addition to joining empty nesters groups (ENG), I took the time to talk with moms my age who I met through work and social activities, and I read some books and articles on the topic. I paid attention when I felt sad and tried to create activities to look forward to – especially those that I couldn’t have participated in when I was “stuck” at home. For example, I did a golf weekend with some friends.
Part of this metamorphosis has involved making new friends while keeping the best of the bunch of old friends. Early in the EN phase, I realized that the camaraderie of co-parents who volunteered on soccer teams and at wrestling meets was missing. I could stay involved with my son’s high school. Heaven knows they need volunteers, but I recognized it was time for me to move on as well.
I now have the time to make friends with other adults with similar interests – writing and electing women to higher office – rather than our kids. This was the opportunity I had claimed I was eager to seize. But I admit I’ve had to push myself out of the nest of home and kid interests I’d created for myself. With patience and gentle persistence, the highs and lows of empty nesting have smoothed into the rhythm of calming waves, and my life has started to feel more balanced.
Time to set stretch goals
Due to still uneven responsibilities related to child rearing, women’s career cycles are very different from men. Men’s career paths typically build steadily with a crescendo in their 50s if they are successful and played their cards right while building their careers.
Women’s career trajectories are more unpredictable.
For women who took time away from work outside the home to raise their kids, their 40s and 50s can signal new beginnings: time to build new skills, get back to careers that were started before kids, or simply starting from scratch. For women who worked outside the home while raising their kids, empty nests can signal a time to refocus on their careers or other goals, such as going back to school, running for office, writing a book, whatever dreams were put on hold while the kids were growing up.
This is a period of high anxiety associated with both negative and positive changes. And there’s probably a divine reason that child rearing and the end of child bearing coincide, but hot flashes and night sweats seem unreasonably punitive to women who already have to deal with so much uncontrollable change.
I haven’t gone through so much change all at one time since I moved away from home myself, so I’ve given myself permission to take some time to settle in to my new role as an Empty Nester. But I recognize that it’s time to set new goals before I become too comfortable with my lack of extracurricular activities. I plan to write a book on goal setting for women and girls, maybe go back to school for more graduate work in women’s studies and get involved in a political campaign.
My newfound freedom has its down sides, but it has its upsides as well. As far as I can tell, the sky’s the limit if I find the strength to embrace this stage of life and go beyond making the best of it, to giving it my best shot.
Lynn Ingrid Nelson became an empty nester in 2006. She is an adjunct strategic communications instructor at the University of Minnesota. Lynn is the former public relations director of American Express Financial Advisors (now Ameriprise). She was a regular columnist on public policy issues for Women Business Minnesota Magazine.
