Trying to Find Me in Nashville

Dear Red,

Here I am, sitting in a too-quiet house, wondering what the heck I’m supposed to do with myself. Both my kids are grown and out on their own now—doing great, by the way, and I’m so proud of them—but it feels like they took a piece of me with them. For years, my life was all about being “Mom,” and now I’m not sure who I even am anymore.

I thought I’d be happy to have time for myself. I thought maybe I’d travel or pick up some hobbies, but honestly, I just feel... lost. Some days, I don’t even know where to start. It’s not that I’m miserable—I have a good husband, friends, and all that—but it’s like something’s missing, you know?

I don’t even know how to start pulling myself out of this rut. How do I figure out what’s next when I’ve spent so many years focused on everyone else? I’m not used to putting myself first, and I’m scared I’ll get stuck feeling this way.

Would love your advice on how to move forward and feel like myself again.

Trying to Find Me in Nashville

*****

Dear Trying to Find Me in Nashville,

When I read, “It feels like they took a piece of me with them” - my heart just sank. As a mom a few years behind you, I’m already anticipating this.

I think grief is appropriate, don’t you? This parenting thing is bizarre. We pour our entire being into these little dependent souls with the purpose of them LEAVING. How is that so right and wrong at the same time?

And, how is 18 years both so long and fast at the same time?

As you sit in that empty house and rediscover who you are - please remember that being a mom is more than what you do with your time. Inversely, how you spend your time is more than being a mom.

Imagine a quiet home with nothing to do, a kitchen counter and you leaning against it. Now, picture yourself through your own developmental stages with that same image and try to get a sense of what you might have been feeling and thinking.

In your 20s before kids - you’re at that counter. What are your thoughts and feelings? Maybe you want kids and you don’t know if it’s going to happen. In the quiet come existential questions. Who am I, and how am I going to spend my time? You want to love, be loved and be a part of something bigger than you. And you don’t know what to do with yourself when there’s no concrete thing to do toward making that happen.

Fast forward to you at the counter in your 50s or 60s. Isn’t the feeling somewhat similar? Who am I and how am I going to spend my time?

You are a friend, wife, mom - but above all else - a giver and receiver of love. It takes a minute to find your rhythm in each new phase of being a love receptacle.

And when there’s no rhythm and room for existential questions - there’s grief. My advice is this - let the grief teach you. It has lots to say about what’s important and who you are. I think it’s an expression of love.

Love from one Momma to another,
Red