Am I Deluding Myself?
I actually ask myself this question fairly often. Practicing self-awareness in life transitions has become essential for me. I used to be an emotional stuffer—the kind of person who shoved everything into a closet until it overflowed into physical symptoms. That overflow led me to therapy in my mid-20s, and I vowed never to get to that point of debilitation again.
That question is up again now as I send my youngest “off” to college. (My oldest is commuting, so this is my first round of a child truly fledging the nest.) Friends kindly keep checking in, and I notice my lack of the expected sob-fest. So I watch myself closely.
Here’s what I’ve noticed so far:
Sorting his room and staging things for him on his bed after we dropped him off felt like ritual. I always find comfort in the reset after visitors leave—the tidying gives me space to reflect. This time, it had me smiling about all the things he’s excited for and what’s to come in his life.
Yes, I’ve checked Life360 six times today. I don’t actually care where he is. It’s just that every new location reminds me: he’s ready to take advantage of this moment.
Every morning I wake up and my brain does its usual checklist—Am I rested? What’s on my plate? How do I need to support my kids today? And then comes the new reality: “Oh. He doesn’t live here now.” It’s becoming part of my acclimation process.
A friend told me to shut his door for a while, but I’ve found that leaving it open and seeing his room clean (a novelty!) helps me adjust.
I recognized an old habit of “casting a bubble of protection” (kinda like Bella Swan) when someone I love and am worried about is far away. It leaves me depleted. This time, I’m staying present in my own body and simply inviting awareness of him into my space instead. That way, I keep my energy grounded, whole, and more effective.
At the beginning of this year, I made a choice to hold steady in my professional life so I could be more available to him in his last months at home. That choice was a rite of passage for me, too, and it left ME feeling ready.
My brain is already twitching at having fewer demands. I can feel it wanting to invent more, which usually means a burst into busyness in my business. So, instead, I’m doubling down on mindfulness. Today that looked like watching a squirrel and two Carolina wrens steal supplies off my deck for nearly an hour while I soaked up the fall-like air. I will continue to hold my business where it is this fall to see what emerges as important to throw my energy into (rather than just throwing energy as an avoidance of needed adjustment to my new norm).
Yes, I miss him. But that is always followed by joy for how ready he is, and how big his life is about to become.
So why share all this with you?
Because I want to honor the mindful, self-aware part of me that keeps me from crashing out like I once did.
Because I want to name that not all of us process things the same way, and that’s okay. Self-awareness lets us make space for our uniqueness.
Because I want to remind you (and me) that “real” processing doesn’t always look like tears—it can look like watching birds, breathing, choosing to maintain status quo rather than jumping into something new, or leaving a bedroom door open.
Because trusting my process allows me to trust his process.
So whether you’re sending a child off to kindergarten or college, choosing a house renovation or a move, or ending a relationship or starting a new one—whatever life is throwing your way—I invite you to witness yourself and tend to what you need. No one else gets to dictate your experience.