Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Women can be better than ever after the nest is empty


What do I do now?

That's a question many women have faced and one I've contemplated for hours on end since my full-time wife and mother hat has been put away. How do you go from being a 24-hour nurse, chauffeur, nurturer, teacher, guidance counselor, activities director, cook, maid, laundress, coach … to just being “you.”
How do you even know who “you” is?


The empty nest

Empty Nest Syndrome is real, and it's a tough adjustment. When you find yourself alone, and your kids no longer really need you and have gone about the business of being grown up long before you are ready to let them go (are you ever?), there's a profound sense of loss, of nothingness, of lack of purpose.

When every minute of your adult life has been spent thinking of everyone's needs but your own, it's hard to wrap your head around the idea that it might be OK to do something for yourself. My first thought was that I should keep myself available, because the kids might need me for something. The thing is, until they have children of their own, they don't need you for much except money or doing their laundry, and after they have children of their own they mostly need you for babysitting and an occasional loan.

You can get very old, bored and gray waiting for Prince Charming to come along or the kids to actually “need” you again once they're grown.

Once you've figured this out, and resigned yourself to the fact, that real sense of finality sets in. You look for ways to fill the void, such as cleaning closets, scrubbing everything that doesn't need scrubbing, shopping for things you don't need and usually can't afford, walking the dog longer (you know, the one the kids said they would take care of if you just let them have it), crying, feeling deserted, unappreciated, unloved …

But then …

You realize this isn't all bad!


It's all about you!

For the first time in a couple of decades you can do what you want to do when you want to do it and with whom you want to do it!
If a friend calls and asks you out to lunch, you don't have to say “Oh, I don't have a babysitter, I can't go,” or “Let me ask (the former) Prince Charming (now turned frog) if I can go.” You can go, and every damned day of the week if you want to!
You don't have to pack lunches, and make breakfast, and drive a bazillion kids to a bazillion different places all in the same day, and you don't have to cook dinner at all if you don't want to and you can eat oatmeal at midnight instead!

You can use the bathroom when you actually need and want to, and you can take a shower and walk naked through the house without tripping on anything left where it doesn't belong! (It's never pretty when you fall down naked!)
You can control the remote, eat popcorn in bed, and read 'til 2 a.m. with lights blazing if the mood strikes. You get to listen to your kind of music and watch your kind of TV shows.

You don't have to pretend to be listening or interested in anything but what you really are interested in and want to listen to.
You can finally take that long self-promised yoga or exercise class, or go back to school, and find enough quiet time to meditate and discover who you are.

It took me most of my life, but now at nearly 64 I've discovered “me.” I've found out I actually like myself, that I'm a good, kind, caring person, and (I humbly think) one who anyone would be lucky to have in their world. I didn't always feel that way, and if not for the natural progression of life and an empty nest I wouldn't have had the opportunity to feel it now.


So what now?

I nurture the newly-found me with music, writing, reading, meditating, eating well, and exercising. I've joined a Glee Club (though there are those who would argue I can't sing!) and a new church. I play rollicking games with my girlfriends, go out to lunch, sing unabashedly into hairbrush microphones, and work on coffeehouse activities. For the first time, I'm taking care of me.

Don't get me wrong, I'd go back to the days of a house full of kids in a minute. I loved those years. I loved being married, too. But we can't go back, and I have to be content with the life I have now, so I intend to make the best of it.
If you're facing an empty nest, do yourself a favor and look at it as the beginning of the first day of the rest of your life and embrace it. You'll be the best you've ever been for having made the transition with the courage it requires. Good luck.

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