Two years ago our son gave us the “time for you to go” look minutes after we moved him into his freshman dorm.
I cried for the first 20 miles out of town. We were empty nesters now. We were alone with each other.
The past 20 years have been busy and, frankly, rough. I spent 2 full decades parenting, taking care of pets, cooking/cleaning/shopping, growing my career, maintaining friendships, watching my parents age, and taking some level of care of myself. Staying on top of all this did not leave a lot of time for marriage maintenance.
And also, after all those years of parenting, marriage, and work obligations and self-sacrifice, I wanted freedom and autonomy more than anything.
But here’s what I learned very quickly: empty nesting is a messy soup of realities that collide and compete. You’re done with all the work, you’re not sure who you are anymore, you and your husband may not have a ton in common anymore. And you’re tired, so tired.
And apparently, a lot of us feel this ennui, uncertainty, and exhaustion in our lives and our marriages after the kids leave. Around me, there are lots of grey divorces: when couples age 50 or older split up because they have drifted apart, changed priorities, and have little in common once kids are gone. I get it, I really do.
And I also really really don’t want it for myself.
Empty nesting: a new version of me. And of us.
I’ve been sitting with the fact that I’m different, my spouse is different, our lives are different, and we need to adapt if we want to make it another 25 years.
At the same time, it’s a time of great possibility for me, personally. Maybe empty nest is my greatest chance to be exactly what I want to be and shed a lot of roles and obligations crap from the past?
And yet, because I am married, this is not just about me. His empty nest needs and dreams might be are really different from mine.
So, trying to fill up our time and space, we kept asking each other, “What do you want to do on the weekends?” But that’s a question about what to DO, but not what we want to BE.
It was clear there were new conversations that we needed to be having: we needed to understand each other’s values now, our goals for this phase in our lives, and how we wanted to spend our time together.
But instead, because this is both hard and new, we squabbled, got annoyed with each other, and looked for ways to escape on the weekends to do things alone or with friends. And I felt bad about it, because I really do still want to be married to this man.
The path forward for us: finding our "Things"
Two years in and we’re evolving imperfectly. To find our way together, we needed to find our “Things” in this stage of our lives, be it activities or people. For us, it looks like this.
- Finding OUR thing. This is one big thing we can go do together. For us, it’s international travel. We love the adventure of it; it seems really good for us to get out of our context and enjoy a new experience together. For other people, it could be golf. It could be live theater. It could be literally anything. But we needed a big common interest to bind us together.
- Finding my other people. I need relationships outside of the one with my spouse. These are spaces where I can be who I am with no expectations and no roles to assume. My friendships have definitely deepened during this phase in life; I need them more and value them more than ever.
- Finding our own things. I’m figuring out things I can pursue by and for myself. It’s not easy. Yoga, hiking, more volunteering, writing, maybe teaching at the university level. I have some ideas and we’ll see what I pursue. I’m especially excited about these things.
The only way out is through
We’ve had some ups and downs as I pursue my own interests and try to find my way. I have to work continually to set boundaries about what I do and don’t want at this stage in my life, and plant myself firmly in what I value, all the while considering him and what he wants. I need to give space and grace, both to my husband and to myself. I need to practice having hard conversations and not let things get bad before I initiate repair.
It turns out empty nesting is as much about my relationship with myself as it is about my relationship with my husband. Clearly, those 2 relationships impact each other, in sometimes messy ways.
This is what I wish someone had told me: you’ll feel the loss of the identity of parenthood and you’ll miss your kids, who anchored you for so long. Empty nesting is a time to rediscover both yourself and your partner. It’s a time to renew a marriage that may have gone stale. At the same time you’ll crave independence. You want no one to ask you or need you for anything. You’ll be asking questions about what you want your own life to look like in the next third. Also, it’s not just you. Your spouse is also going through a seismic shift.
It’s complicated. It’s frustrating. You won’t really want to do the work, because secretly you sort of want to fly the coop. You’re worn out.
Truth bomb from my friend Amy just this morning: "A new level of being is required in every phase of life."
So, I'm taking a good look at where I am at and where we are at, so we can grow individually and together. Is it easy? Hell no. But it’s better than a grey divorce.
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