For families with teens entering college in the fall, the months leading up to “D-Day” (Departure Day) are a roller-coaster ride of emotion, from the joy of graduation to the realization that “My baby is leaving home!” August may have its tense moments as parents struggle to let go and young people chomp at freedom’s bit.
How can parents best help their kids, and themselves, process this major life transition?
The key, according to Dr. Lee Liebner, is anticipation and acceptance. “Don’t wait until the last minute to come to emotional terms with this monumental change,” he warns. “The sooner you learn to let go and acknowledge your child’s independence, the sooner you can help him or her gain the self-confidence needed to embark on this new stage of life. And when you do, it will pay dividends not only for your child but also for you and your relationship.”
Dr. Liebner recommends parents take the following steps to ready themselves for D-Day:
- Between rushed visits to Bed, Bath and Beyond, slow down and breathe.
- Set aside some time a couple of days before the big day to sit down with your child to look at the "big picture" by looking through old photos together, where you can both see the amazing growth your child has made through the years. (As You Go makes it easy to do this. Just add pictures to the 18 beautiful background pages we have included for this purpose.) You’ll see the present in the context of the whole--you'll see your child's imminent departure as the next natural step along his/her pathway to growth.
- Embrace change with a full-body hug. Letting go will liberate you.
- Express your feelings. Now is a great time to cry. Let it all out.
Take the time to process this mix of emotions before dropping your child off at school, and you greatly improve your chances of staying dry-eyed on Departure Day, because the great storm will have already passed.
Celebrate this day! Your “baby” is growing up!
Lee Liebner, Ph.D., is the father of two college students and author of “As You Go (Our Love Will Be With You)” published by OceanBridge Communications, Inc., Chadds Ford, PA.
"We dropped off our child at college, and now I'm a wreck."
"I feel so empty."
"My life as a mother is over. Who am I?"
Your "baby's" gone and that hole in your heart is very real. What can you do to cope with this overwhelming feeling that pervades every corner of your being right now?
1. Embrace change.
Easy to say but hard to do. Embracing change often means embracing pain. This first step is so important I'm going to repeat it. Embrace change with your whole heart. It's good for your child. And, as you will soon see, it's good for you, even though it may feel like the opposite at this moment.
Accept that this is a monumental change. The feelings you're experiencing are quite common. Let's deal first with the raw emotional side of this equation, for no matter how analtyical you want to be, you're still going to have to spend some time feeling the full force of these emotions if you ever want to get past them.
Don't deny or suppress this emotion. It's real. It's you. Sit with it. Accept it. Respect it. You're in unfamiliar territory, but it's still you, and the good news is you're still alive.
Do not fight this emotion. The more you wrestle with it, the longer it will keep its strangehold on you.
Instead, embrace the reality of it. Acknowledge its presence. In fact, welcome it in. Welcome it into your life and home. Like a guest. When you do, you will start the process by which it will begin to lose its power over you. At the appropriate time, the guest will be ready to leave.
Breathe deeply. Feel the air entering your body through the nasal passageways into your lungs filling your chest and abdomen. Exhale slowly. Feel your muscles allowing the air to leave. Yes, you are alive! And you are in control of your body.
Repeat this breathing exercise slowly 5 times. Then another 5 times. As you do, with each inhalation feel the hint of peacefulness that is beginning to fill you from the inside out. You can repeat this exercise throughout the day whenever you want.
Powerful emotions can only dominate you if you think of them as something outside of yourself that's controlling you. But when you take charge of the process—by welcoming this emotion in as a guest—you remind yourself that you in fact do have a considerable measure of power over your current state. That's easy to forget at a time like this, but it's true. As time passes, you'll see that you have much more power than you're giving yourself credit for right now.
2. Analysis: what's going on here?
Lots.
It's understandable that you're swimming in a sea of emotions and are gasping for air. There are indeed a great many emotions involved because there are in fact a great number of issues and concerns that are swirling in your subconscious and conscious mind. We'll get to all of these issues, but let's directly address the two main issues first that are weighing so heavily on your heart today:
A) You miss your baby.
B) You miss your self.
A) You miss your baby.
You love your son or daughter. They may have been your best friend. That friend is now gone. You miss the connection, the interaction, the sharing, the smiles, the laughter, the hugs, the bustle of activity, the sounds of life, the family dinners.
It's all so different now.
Plain and simple: You're experiencing sadness at the loss of a loved one.
So where does that leave you? Who are you, anyway?
B) You miss your self.
For the past eighteen years you have—and I'm choosing my words very carefully here—defined yourself as a mother (or father). Now you are not needed any more. At least not in that same role. That's how it feels.
And it's true. After dropping your son or daughter off at college, you are no longer the parent of a child. That part of your life is over. The end of an era. You are no longer the primal caregiver and protector of a dependent being. This is a major cause of the emptiness you're feeling right now. You are in actual fact NOT—what you used to be.
Now let's begin the healing process.
What I'm going to tell you right now is something you are aware of. You've just overlooked it in the rush to raise your child over the past 18 years and to get them to this point. It's not going to end your immediate pain. Emotions don't work that way. You're still going to be hurtin' for a while. But what I have to say should accelerate this part of the healing process and go a long way toward not only patching that big hole in your heart but also helping you to refill it.
Your role has changed. That's all.
Your new role is not a less important role or a less needed one. But it is different, and that's a good thing.
You are no longer parents of a child. You have become the parents of a college student. You too have graduated.
The most important thing has not changed.
The most important thing of all has not changed: Your son or daughter is still your son or daughter. You still love them and they still love you. They still need you—just differently.
For the past 18 years, your role has been a lot like that of a Doctor-on-Duty, the key person responsible for everything going on in your area. Now your role is more like that of a Doctor-on-Call. You are absolutely needed, but you no longer bear the burden of responsibility for all the daily goings-on. You're still available for emergencies to come in and help. Your son or daughter is now the person who bears the daily responsibilities. And, just like a doctor supported by the entire hospital staff, your son or daughter can call upon the entire resources of the college or university—the Office of Freshman Students, the Counseling Office, the Dean of Student Affairs, the Resident Assistants of the dorms—for immediate assistance so that you, in your new role, can get the time off you need to turn your attention to what you're going to do with the rest of your life with all this newfound freedom.
Your emotions may not let you even start to think about this yet—but they will. After all, parenting dependent children for such a huge portion of one's life creates a great deal of emotional momentum. Like a fully loaded semi-trailer truck barreling down the highway, you can't turn on a dime. In fact, you've been so busy and rushed that you haven't even used the brakes for the longest time or moved the steering wheel to anywhere but straight ahead. The brakes and steering wheel may feel rusted into place. But just as rusty parts can be loosened up with an injection of WD-40, so can your mental mindset be freed up with an injection of altered perspective and stimulating new possibilities for your life. Time to bring that rig into the shop for a tune-up.
At the beginning of this section I said that for the past eighteen years you defined yourself as a parent. You chose that role. Now you have the power to redefine yourself as the parent of a college student, plus whatever other role/s you choose to take on to expand your repertoire.
Like an actor who has just completed a great motion picture and is taking a vacation or reading new scripts, you are allowed some time off before even having to consider new options. You don't have to start reading for new roles yet. Give yourself some time to process what has just happened. Reacquaint yourself with your self. It's OK to take your time. You've earned it.
In the meantime, I'll leave you with this one thought for anyone who feels "My life is over."
Does the name Cal Ripken Jr. ring a bell? From 1982 through 1996, Cal played 2,632 consecutive games for the Baltimore Orioles, setting a Major League Baseball record, earning the nickname "Iron Man." When he retired from that role, the crowd in his home stadium, Camden Yards, recognized his years of service with an extended standing ovation.
Your life is no more over than Cal's was when he retired from baseball. His extraordinary accomplishment pales in comparison to what you have just done. For 18 years—6,574 consecutive days—you showed up for the work of parenting with no days off. During this incredibly long stretch you have worked tirelessly and have successfully performed an awesome task: you have nurtured a child from completely dependent infancy to self-reliant adulthood. You have given of your life so that another can live and grow to discover the role God has in store for him or her.
Listen.
Listen carefully to that sound coming from the center of your heart. It's getting louder. It's almost deafening now.
The entire stadium is giving you a standing ovation. Cheering wildly, they are in awe of what you have done so consistently for so long.
They love you and they wish you well as you go and consider your options for the future. Take your time. You've deserved it. You obviously have incredibly much to give. Whenever you're ready, the new beneficiaries of your attention and care will be waiting for you.
If you were especially close with your teen before, you'll naturally want to call frequently to find out how they're doing.
Don't.
Instead, practice empathy. Remind yourself that they're already experiencing sensory overload.
They're busy making new friends, finding their classrooms, learning where the cafeteria is, what time it's open, where the math department is, the laundromat, the library, the student center, the gym, the student infirmary, the football stadium, their notebook, their cellphone charger, their username and password to log on to the campus network. That alone is more than a full-time job. They're trying to remember a million new things and need some quiet time to assimilate everything. Give them that gift of peace.
So how often should you call the first month?
Ideally, rather than you call them, have them call you. You could try this approach:
"When you're away at school, hon, we know you'll be very busy, but we definitely would love to hear from you by phone once a week for just a few minutes so that you can tell us how you're doing and if there's anything you need. Since you're adapting to a new schedule, YOU decide what the best time will be for you. Sunday nights right after dinner would work well with us, but whatever time is best for you, we'll work around your schedule."
One thing you don't want to do is barge in on your fledgling freshman's life by phone at random times, especially the first few weeks. They may be in the middle of overcoming their self-consciousness as they make new friends and feel good about standing on their own two feet. They need this space. Give it to them. Let them pre-arrange a weekly time when you can both catch up.
If you find it difficult to hold yourself back from picking up the phone, try redirecting that energy into composing a short email message. The nice thing about email is that your college student can respond whenever works out best for them, and they can give it some thought before they do. (And remember, a short and sweet message is more likely to get a response sooner. Keep it a LOT shorter than this article!)
For more help on restraining yourself from succumbing to an itchy cell-phone trigger-finger, read this insightful article by Elise McIntosh, The Longest Umbilical Cord.
