I hear it all the time from moms: the empty nest years were the hardest years of their lives. We’ve been in it for six years now, and I want to tell you our story, because ours was different. It was better. Even better than we hoped.
But it didn’t start that way. Before the kids left, we had a lot of questions running through our heads.
The Questions We Didn’t Say Out Loud
We knew we loved each other. But what if our love had been built around the kids and not around each other?
Without them, would we still be gentle, loving, and patient with each other, or had we been hiding behind the busyness of raising kids? Would we still make time for romance and spend time together, or would we turn into roommates? Those questions were in both of our heads before the last one walked out the door.
The Quiet
When we got home after dropping them off, the house was quiet. We both cried when we left them, and I won’t pretend otherwise. But what surprised us was that it was almost a good quiet.
There was time for ourselves, our hobbies, and our own space. Here’s what we really noticed: if my wife didn’t want to do anything that day, or wanted to lie down at 6 PM, she could. And I could be on my computer working all night without feeling guilty. That was huge for us.
It wasn’t all easy. It was hard not having the kids there to clean up with us, cook with us, and help with all the things we used to do together. Some of our meals got a lot simpler. But we noticed what we didn’t have anymore:
- No more games, practices, or homework
- No more worrying about feelings that weren’t ours to fix
- No extra friends or girlfriends or the million things that come up
- No “I forgot this assignment, it’s due tomorrow” stress
It was real joy.
The Week It Hit Us
I’ll be honest: it took about a week. Then it was, crap, we miss them. It felt like they had gone to camp, except this time they didn’t come back.
But we got into a routine, and we liked it. We miss the kids, and we also raised them to get out and see the world. Not to stay comfortable close to home. Not to be here. We told them: go make mistakes, go see the world, go live. Don’t let us hold you back because we’re afraid to let go or to watch you fail. We had to let you fly.
What’s Different Now
The biggest change? We’re way more intimate. We make time for each other in a way that’s easier now. We also have time to go be in our own space, and then come back together.
And we found out we just like being in the house together, knowing the other one is there. We’re happy. And we feel like we did a good job raising our kids.
If You’re Heading Into the Empty Nest
Here’s my advice for a couple a year or two out:
Treat it like they’re going to camp. The hardest part for us wasn’t the quiet. It was the moving, the stuff, and figuring out all the logistics. Those moments before they leave are tough. So do it together, ideally with their friends, and laugh and have fun with it.
When they go, cry. It’s okay. Then let yourself feel the freedom, because it’s a kind of freedom you’ve never felt before.
It won’t always be easy, and there will be challenging moments. For us, it came down to being comfortable in our own space and learning what made us happy. Even when the kids come to visit, we’ve had to relearn that balance, because we’ve gotten so comfortable being us.
The Answer to Our Question
Did the love and passion survive the quiet? It more than survived. We found each other again.
If you’re nervous about what’s coming, I get it. We were too. But this isn’t the end of your story. It might be the best chapter yet.
Are you heading into the empty nest, or already there? Tell us in the comments what you’re feeling.
