I’m beginning to believe that how we let our children go is equally, if not more, important than how we raised them. Someone very wise said this to me a few years ago, and the more time that passes, the more I realize just how true this statement is.
How I let my children go is important...
And this may be one of the hardest parts of motherhood.
For so many years, being a good mom meant stepping in- helping, protecting, reminding, fixing, knowing where they were, what they needed, and what was happening in their lives. Then, almost without warning, being a good mom starts to require something very different:
Knowing when to step in, but more importantly, knowing when to step back.
Parenting older children can feel hard, uncomfortable, and even unnatural because, in many ways, we are being asked to do the opposite of what we did when they were little. When they were young, we were supposed to intervene, guide, protect, correct, rescue, and stay closely involved. As they get older, we often need to give them more space, let them make decisions, allow them to experience consequences, and sometimes wait for them to ask us to step in.
That takes some getting used to. It is an adjustment, not only for them, but for us.
The Emotional Tug-of-War
This season can feel strange in ways I don’t think we talk about enough. I coach a lot of women who are moms of older children, and a consistent theme of conflicting emotions comes up for all of us in this bittersweet season.
There can often be a low-grade, consistent ache of missing- even though they’re still right in front of you. The house starts to feel and be a little quieter. We suddenly miss the chaos and constant noise of them playing in the next room.
There’s the worry in our stomach as they head out for the evening, the constant anticipation of what could go wrong, and the mental checklist that never seems to shut off.
What do I still need to teach them?
What haven’t I prepared them for?
Did I do enough?
Am I running out of time to influence them?
Should I say something, or should I stay quiet?
It can feel like a constant tug-of-war within us.
One moment, we feel like we’re doing great. We’re embracing this new season, enjoying the people our children are becoming, and maybe even feeling excited about having a little more freedom ourselves. Then the next moment, we’re a ball of emotion. Tears are flowing, and our minds have taken us right back to the days when they were little- the days that somehow seem easy now, even though they didn’t necessarily feel easy when we were living them.
Funny how that works, isn’t it?
This is where I think we have to give ourselves grace.
Just as our children are trying to figure out who they are as they move toward adulthood, we are trying to figure out who we are, too.
Who am I as a mother when my children no longer need me every hour of every day? Who am I when I don’t know every detail? When my role is less about managing their lives and more about being a steady presence in the background?
For some of us, this transition can create a bit of an identity crisis. So much of our lives and identities have been wrapped around the daily work of raising children, and suddenly the job description changes.
Doing Less Does Not Mean We Are Failing
After spending so many years responsible for nearly every part of their lives, it can be incredibly difficult to convince our minds that we are not in that space so much anymore, but I’m learning something important: Doing less as a parent does not mean we are failing, and it does not mean we don't care.
In fact, doing less and trusting them more may actually be an indication that we’ve done our job well, even when it doesn’t feel that way inside.
We spent years teaching them so they could eventually think for themselves. We protected them while they were young so they could eventually learn how to navigate the world without us beside them. We made decisions for them so they could eventually become capable of making their own.
This was always the goal:
To raise children who are equipped, independent, and capable of thinking for themselves.
Now comes the hard part: Trusting what we spent all those years building.
We must remember, just because they may not need us every day does not mean they don’t need us at all.
They still need us. They just need us differently now.
When My Emotions Take Over
When I feel overwhelmed by my own emotions in this transitional season, I’m learning to reset myself- mentally, physically, and spiritually- and this helps a lot.
I slow down. I take a few deep breaths and give my body a chance to settle. Then I try to interrupt the spiral of what ifs by asking myself an anchor question:
“Is there actually something I need to do right now, or is this a moment when I need to trust?”
That question helps me separate what actually requires my attention from what my emotions are telling me I need to control, and then, often, I pray.
Prayer has become such an important tool for me during this season because stepping back from hands-on parenting can feel very passive. Sometimes it almost feels like we’re doing nothing when, for so many years, motherhood required us to constantly do something.
Prayer reminds me that stepping back does not mean I am absent.
There is still so much I can do for my children that doesn’t require saying a word directly to them. I can pray for their protection, discernment, relationships, decisions, faith, and future. I can ask God to reach the places in their lives that I no longer can, and honestly, was never meant to.
The power of a praying mother is a force to be reckoned with, in my opinion.
Two Things Can Be True at the Same Time
I can honestly say this year has been challenging for me, but it has also been great in so many ways. My children are spreading their wings. They’re becoming more independent and stepping into their own lives. When I look at each of them, I am filled with absolute pride and joy, but my heart also breaks a little.
I know I will never experience being a mom to these young men as little boys again, and you know what? That hurts to the core, but it’s okay, because it’s a hurt I wouldn’t trade for the world.
If you’re a parent, you probably know exactly what I mean. There simply is no love that compares to the love we have for our children. So, I’m learning to allow some things to be true at the same time.
I can miss who they were while loving who they are becoming.
I can grieve a chapter that has ended while being excited about the one beginning.
I can miss being needed in the ways I once was while also being incredibly proud that they don’t need me in those ways anymore.
One emotion does not cancel out the other. Realizing this has removed angst and brought me peace.
Changing the Thoughts That Make This Season Harder
Part of what I’ve been working on is catching the thoughts that make this transition more difficult and intentionally looking at them differently.
Instead of: “They don’t need me anymore.”
I remind myself: “They need me differently now.”
Instead of: “I need to protect them from everything.”
I remind myself: “Hard lessons are valuable and often can only become theirs when they experience them for themselves.”
Instead of: “If I step back, I’m not being a good mom.”
I remind myself: “Stepping back can be an act of trust, not an absence of love.”
Instead of: “I’m running out of time to influence them.”
I remind myself: “What I’ve poured into them over the years doesn’t disappear simply because I’m no longer directing every decision.”
Instead of: “I miss who they used to be when they were little and needed me more.”
I remind myself: “I can miss who they were while still loving who they are becoming.”
Our thoughts matter. We may not be able to stop that first pang of sadness or worry, but we can decide what we do with it once it arrives. I was once taught a great analogy about thoughts: the bird can fly into the tree, but it does not have to stay and make a nest. No matter what season I am going through, I have control over how I think about it. Perspective is everything.
We Have Growing to Do, Too
Here we are. They’re growing up, and now it’s our job to grow right along with them.
Instead of resisting this season, I’m trying to embrace it and remind myself that this was always the goal. We wanted to raise children who could eventually stand on their own, make their own decisions, and build lives that belong to them. I may feel like I'm losing some things, and in all reality I am, but when I shift my thinking to what they are gaining as they come into their own, I instantly feel lighter. Their happiness is my happiness, and I think that's typically true for all of us parents.
And there is still so much ahead for us as moms, too.
Maybe this is the season when we begin figuring out what the next phase of our lives looks like. Maybe we pursue dreams or goals that have been sitting on the back burner for years. Maybe we discover new interests, deepen relationships, travel, build something, serve somewhere, or simply have the space to ask ourselves:
What do I want this next chapter of my own life to look like?
And hopefully, one day, we’ll have the privilege of watching our children create families of their own, and perhaps understand us a little better when they do.
Parenting older kids may require less of us physically, but in many ways, it requires more of us mentally and emotionally.
So, take it one step at a time. You won’t always know when to step in and when to step back. You’re going to misstep sometimes. I know I do. When you do, say so. Apologize. Talk about it. Then try to do better the next time.
Be human with your kids.
I’ve found that allowing my children to see that I don’t have all the answers- that I can recognize when I’ve gotten something wrong and own it- doesn’t diminish my role as their mom. If anything, I think it creates more respect, appreciation, and connection.
After all, we’re no longer raising little children who need us to have all the answers. We’re building relationships with young adults who need to know that we respect the people they are becoming, and who know that no matter how old they get, home is a place where the door will always remain open for them.
So maybe our job now isn’t to hold on tighter. Maybe it’s to loosen our grip while keeping our hearts wide open.
Trust more. Pray more. Listen more. Advise when invited. Be there when they need you.
These are all the things I'm actively working on as a mom of an almost 20 and 16-year old, and if you're parenting young adults too, I invite you to join me.
Know that you are not alone, and on the hard days, remind yourself:
How we let them go is equally, if not more, important than how we raised them.
Remember that when this new and unfamiliar season tests you. Take a deep breath, talk to God, and keep moving forward because you're doing great even if you don't think so.
Motherhood doesn’t end when they grow up, it just asks us to grow, too.
