My husband and I helped our son, our second and last child living at home, move into his apartment in Washington, DC. He was beginning his first job after graduating from college. We were so proud of him and so incredibly excited, and then he said goodbye, and we got into the car to drive home—alone. I was not prepared for the loss, the finality, the feeling that this was the end. My home was not my children’s primary residence anymore. Both of my kids were now independent adults. For some reason this bible verse kept running through my mind, “I am about to do something new…I will make a way in the wilderness” (Isa. 43:19). But at the time, it did not feel like something new was happening. All I could see was a vast empty end with no “way in the wilderness”. I was officially an empty nester.

As I later learned, I was living the textbook definition of the empty nest, as my last child left the family home to begin his life as an independent adult. During that car ride home, I was quiet, lost in my thoughts—my children were beginning new chapters of adulthood, with hopes and dreams of their own, while I was going home to empty bedrooms. All the activity, noise, cooking, laundry, car rides, homework, and discussions at the dinner table were now over. My husband, noting my silence, smiled at me, “You still have me!” I laughed, grateful for the reassurance, but I still felt lost and off-balance.

After a little pity party, I began to seek information to help me through this new season of life. However, I quickly realized that resources to guide a mother through “what to expect” at this stage are minimal. Most of it is made up of platitudes and to do lists. So, while there are numerous books about pregnancy, newborns, toddlerhood, and adolescence, very little useful information exists about parenting adults. Nevertheless, as always, God had a plan for me. So, for various other reasons, ironically none of them related to the empty nest, I enrolled in Divine Mercy University to obtain a master’s degree in psychology.

At the beginning of the program, students are tasked with proposing a topic for their Capstone Project, a topic we would research for the next two years, resulting in multiple papers, PowerPoints, and recommendations, all with the purpose of helping others. I had several topics running through my brain, but none felt right. Looking back, I am convinced my guardian angel whispered in my ear—help yourself, help your friends, research the empty nest.

Initially, my topic of the empty nest was not well received by my advisor. He said he did not think anyone had ever researched this topic, and he doubted I would find enough information about the empty nest. Interestingly, if I had chosen this topic 10 or 15 years ago, he would have been correct. However, recently, there has been tremendous interest in the empty nest in the psychology community. Something different is happening with modern mid-life mothers. So, with this essay, I want to shed some light on this time of transition and share what I have learned to help other empty nest mothers flourish in their own lives and in their relationships with their adult children. This information has been transformational for me. I hope it can help you too.

Based on my research, here are the Top 10 things I learned about the modern empty nest:

1. The struggle is real: You are not losing your mind or making this up. Emotional and/or psychological distress when your kids leave home is real. You are not being dramatic. You are not being overly sensitive. Life has changed. Just knowing that these feelings are “a thing” helped me acknowledge and accept my situation and not fight it, which began to bring a glimmer of peace. I learned that when children leave home many women, although not all women, experience a variety of emotional and psychological symptoms such as loss, worry, loneliness, sadness, depression, anxiety, and/or loss of purpose and identity. This was me! These symptoms have become known as the Empty Nest Syndrome (ENS). Interestingly, ENS is not a clinical diagnosis. However, for moms like me who experience these symptoms, the situation is very distressing. Even though ENS is not considered a diagnosable condition, one of my favorite professors and I began to notice that the symptoms and the timing surrounding ENS could possibly be considered an adjustment disorder according to the DSM-5-TR, which is the diagnostic bible for mental health professionals. This “diagnosis” suggests a short-term issue when adjusting to a new situation. In other words, this too shall pass. I began to feel hope kindling in the depths of my sadness.
2. Mostly a mom thing: My husband misses our kids. However, he could not understand the depth of my sadness, my emotional despair. For 20+ years, I defined myself first and foremost as a mom. We were blessed to have the opportunity for me to leave my job to be a full time mom, and I have no regrets. I love being a mom. Once I became a mom, I put all of my energy and organizational and planning skills and love into raising my children. As a Catholic family, I agree with Vatican II that having and raising a family is the “supreme gift of marriage”. I know my husband loves our children. He is an amazing dad, but he did not have the same reaction to the empty nest. And research confirms all of this: ENS is mostly associated with mothers, especially those who are the primary caregiver and stay at home to raise the children. Interestingly, men tend to focus on the loss of paternalistic control, while women experience emotional distress. My favorite bit of research sums up this point really well—when dads were asked about the empty nest, they actually spoke more about their wife’s reaction than their own. So, while your husband feels bad, it is different for him. The empty nest syndrome is mostly a mom thing.
3. A time of ambiguity: Now that the kids are out of the house, my husband and I have started going out on dates again. I have time to reconnect with my friends. I have found very satisfying volunteer work. I have even learned how to bake bread with my own sourdough starter and began playing golf with my husband and with friends. I can happily say that my husband and I discovered that we still like each other! So, on the one hand, I was terribly sad that my chicks had flown the nest, but on the other hand, I love the freedom my husband and I now enjoy. Initially, I felt a little guilty that I was enjoying myself because I was also genuinely sad and missed my kids terribly. I was confused.

Interestingly, I discovered that research backs all of this up—marital satisfaction increases, and other areas of life satisfaction also increase during the empty nest. Free time, friends, and hobbies increase. There is genuine enjoyment after the kids leave. I was happy and sad all at the same time. But that is ok! All of the research speaks to these two sides of the empty nest. The only way I can adequately sum up this experience of ambiguity in the empty nest is to borrow from Charles Dickens, “It was the best of times; it was the worst of times” because even with all of these positive activities and feelings, I was also deeply unhappy. My children had left my home, and life will never be the same. So, if you are experiencing simultaneous happiness and sadness, this is natural, and you are not alone.

1. More than the empty nest: When we dropped our son off, I was not just officially an empty nester. I was also middle-aged, and I was experiencing the emotional and biological effects of menopause. For both men and women, life reflection in middle age can lead to sadness, anxiety, or depression as youth is past and old age is looming. For many, retirement is becoming a reality. So, the empty nest hits at a tough time for women. It is like a perfect storm. In effect, women are primed to be affected by this season of the empty nest, and all of these other factors can exacerbate this feeling of loss. I know it did for me. Understanding how this collision of factors put me at a greater risk for negative empty nest symptoms, really helped me process the situation. As I mentioned earlier, there is comfort in knowing that I was not making this up, and neither are you.
2. A time to mourn: All change involves loss. Discovering this simple concept was my personal turning point. I was working on a paper to explain the philosophical and theological avenues to help ENS mothers, and my professor suggested that I check out Patrick Lencioni’s model for managing transitions. In this model, Lencioni explains that all change involves loss, even good change. Change signals a transition from the old to the new, and it requires letting go of something, in order to gain something else. For example, marriage is the loss of your single days. So, even though I knew the empty nest was coming, and I wanted my children to be independent adults, this was WAY harder than I expected because I did not anticipate the feelings of loss. Empty bedrooms. Cooking for two. No one to pick up. No games to attend. I kept saying to my husband, “This is weird.” It was like being in a dream where everything is familiar, but nothing is the same. I was still in my home, but it was so painfully different.

I was in a time of transition, the dreaded time of in between. One season had ended, and the next had not yet begun. I was experiencing loss, and I actually needed to mourn this loss. I learned that it is ok to mourn the end of a season of life. As a matter of fact, this mourning is necessary to move forward. Lencioni suggests marking this loss with a ceremonial event to acknowledge the passing from one reality to another. I came up with a few ideas to mark this time of the empty nest: Write a letter to your child (but don’t mail it). Go on a trip. Redecorate their childhood bedroom into an adult room for when they come to visit. As it turns out, my degree and the multiple empty nest papers helped me adjust and move on, but also, for the first time since having kids, my husband and I went away together for a full week ALONE. It was lovely!

1. You’re still their mom…but it’s different: Eventually, I realized that I needed to change my way of viewing my role as mom. I am still and will always be their mother, but as my empty nest heralded a change in my reality, it also necessitated a change in my perspective. I have to admit I was surprised to see that the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) has encouraging advice for parents of adult children. CCC 2230 recommends that parents of adult children should engage in a “trusting relationship”. So, instead of fixing every problem and maintaining parental control, my new role should be mentor and advisor. Again, I found this wisdom reassuring. Part of me initially felt like my role as mother was over, but it is not. It is merely redefined. I could accept that.

Then, another valuable nugget of wisdom about parenting adult children came from a very wise Legionary of Christ priest, “Don’t be so close that you step on their heels, but be close enough so you hear them when they ask for help.” I love this! Parenting adult children is not the same as parenting young children, so my role has not ended. I just needed to adjust to the new normal. If I can do it, you can too.

1. The lens of gratitude: As I began to make peace with my feelings of loss and grief, I needed to take positive steps forward during this time of transition. So, instead of bemoaning my loss and longing for a past that cannot return, I started to dig into the positive effects of gratitude. It is now a widely accepted psychological finding that the practice of gratitude has significant physical, emotional, and psychological benefits. As a Catholic mom, I know that my children and the busy days of childhood were a gift from God. So, intentionally cultivating gratitude helped me change my lens from sadness to appreciation.

I began a gratitude journal. Every evening I review my day and write the top three things that fill my heart with gratitude. It can be big or small. Interestingly as humans, we are wired in a way that what we anticipate seeing is ultimately what we do see. So, with this change of lens, I began to see the world and my relationship with my children a bit more positively: I am grateful when they reach out to me to share a joy or frustration. I am grateful when they ask to spend time with me. I am grateful to hear the cicadas on a hot summer day. I am grateful for a lovely morning coffee with a friend. This was a huge step for me. All is a gift from our good and loving God.

1. The end is the beginning: One statistic that I came across seems obvious, but its impact was significant. God willing, you will know your children longer as adults than you knew them as children. This blew my mind, but it again was a moment of reassurance. I have new joys and new experiences with my adult children ahead of me (think weddings and grandchildren!). Sure, things will be different, but different does not mean bad. With my eyes on Christ, I needed to envision new plans and new projects so I could move forward in peace and joy. Finding ways to use my mothering skills elsewhere became my focus. I began to dream about helping others with my empty nest research. I even planned an empty nest workshop. I am writing this essay! The lyrics from Semisonic’s song, Closing Time began to run through my head, “every new beginning comes from some other beginnings’ end”. I could not refill my nest and go back in time, so I had a choice: I could wistfully look to a past that cannot return and languish, or I can look to the future with eyes of hope. I choose hope.
2. Communication—You’re NOT the boss: So far, everything I have written above mostly involves a change in attitude, but there is one element that is very practical—communication skills. When children are young, we tell them when to get up, when to go to sleep, what to eat, and what to wear. We teach them what to say, such as “please” and “thank you”. However, as an empty nester, those days are over. A key skill that must be cultivated is listening, especially listening without giving advice. I must admit that this is really hard for me, so let’s just say my skills are evolving. Most people listen with the objective of a rebuttal or of pontificating, but how often do we listen to understand? The most important role in a conversation is to listen, to make your adult children feel like they are heard and understood. It is about empathy. One of the hardest jobs of parenting adult children is to listen to a child vent about a problem and not offer any opinions or advice. If they ask for help, great! However, if they just want to talk about it, we have to accept that too.
3. New beginnings just happen: All of the work and the waiting happen during the long time of the in-between, the time of transition. Actually, the smallest part of Lencioni’s model for transitions is the new beginning. He even says, “one day you wake up and the new beginning just happens”.

As I am writing this essay, it dawned on me that the topic of the empty nest does not produce the same angst and devastation that I experienced when I began my journey at DMU. I did a little internal audit and realized the new beginning has started for me! It has been a long, hard journey. Sure, I still miss my kids, and wish they lived nearby, but I am also enjoying my new relationship with my adult children. They are truly delightful human beings. I have come to realize that it is a privilege to have a relationship with your adult children, not a right, and I am truly grateful that they want to spend time with us.

Finally, two years of research slowly revealed an important lesson: Instead of seeing the empty nest as an ending, I now view it as an accomplishment and a new beginning. I am able to look back with gratitude at those crazy days with my sweet little babies and look to the future with hope and a purpose, and I can now delight in my amazing adult children. So, if you are in the long, difficult days of the empty nest transition, remember it will end. The new beginning will happen. Just choose hope.

For more information on my research or just to chat about the empty nest, you can contact me at espositolauramary@gmail.com.