My youngest daughter Mili leaves for American University in a few weeks.
She’ll be studying in Washington, D.C., a few miles from her brand new nephew. She’s already declared herself the favorite aunt.
She’s close enough to actually show up for weekends and evenings, she’s also close enough in age to still know what’s cool, which she will absolutely remind everyone is the real qualification.
I love that logic.
This is a brand new season for me. I will be watching my last child go off to college. A time I never could have pictured after raising six kids.
And almost in the same breath, I’ve become a grandmother.
Two seasons that are supposed to happen years apart. Showing up at my house in the same summer.
For so many parents, a child going off to college is a hard transition. We spend years juggling so many things for so many people. When there’s suddenly one less thing to juggle, it can feel very empty. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to go? One chapter closes, you grieve it a little, and then the next one opens. That’s the story we’re told about change. Endings first, beginnings after.
I remember laying in my oldest son’s bed the night he left for college, crying into his pillow. With each child after that, it got a little easier, because I could see the incredible opportunities waiting for them on the other side. Sad and nervous every time. But it was never really about me.
Mili is sad, nervous, and very excited, all in the same breath. She’s gone to the same school since preschool so this is a big change for her. She’s thrilled that D.C. puts her close enough to spend weekends and evenings with her brother, sister-in-law and nephew instead of only seeing them on holidays.
I am sad, nervous, and very excited for her too. I am also so incredibly proud of everything she has already accomplished. This new season will bring a lot of change. She gets to try new things, meet new people, and figure out what she actually wants for her life.
I think we get taught to brace for change instead of embrace it. We treat every new season like a threat to the one we’re currently standing in, like there’s only room for one identity at a time.
Mother of six. Grandmother. Wife of thirty plus years. Founder growing her business.
I used to think I needed to tidy those up into some kind of order. Finish one before starting the next.
Turns out real life works differently. So does confidence.
Real confidence means trusting yourself enough to hold more than one thing at a time, without needing any of them to get smaller to make room.
Mili doesn’t have to stop being my youngest favorite daughter to become an aunt. I don’t have to stop being her mom to become someone’s grandmother.
The seasons aren’t taking turns. They’re overlapping, on purpose, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
So here’s what I keep coming back to as I help her pack for college with a nursery still fresh in my mind.
The season you’re standing in right now, whatever it is, probably didn’t ask your permission and probably doesn’t care if you feel ready. You can spend it waiting for things to slow down and make sense. Or you can embrace it exactly as messy and full as it is.
If there’s a season showing up in your life before you feel ready for it, here’s the invitation. Stop waiting for it to make sense first. Pick one thing about it you can lean into today, even a small one, and start there.
My daughter Olivia and I got into this exact kind of family shift on the podcast recently, what it looks like to hold onto each other while everyone’s roles keep changing. If this hit home for you, you can listen to that conversation on the Her Unshakeable Confidence podcast.
