In our fortnightly column ‘Real Talk’ we answer your questions on sex, faith and intimacy. Drop us an email on womanalive@premier.org.uk and ask us anything.
Dear Woman Alive,
I never desperately wanted children, and to be honest I didn’t particularly enjoy the baby and toddler years. But now that my children are adults, I absolutely treasure them. My daughter has become one of my closest friends, but she married young and, although she still lives nearby, I know her husband is now the person she naturally turns to first. I completely understand that’s how it should be, but I miss our closeness.
Our son is away at university and, while he still comes home for meals and to do his washing, he’s busy building his own life with friends and studies. For so many years my life revolved around supporting my children through school, anxiety, friendship struggles and all the ups and downs of growing up. Family holidays and spending time together have always been my happiest moments.
I’m finding this transition much harder than I expected. It feels as though my purpose has disappeared overnight, and I’m worried that if I hold on too tightly, I’ll only push them further away. I keep asking God what He has for this next season, but I can’t seem to hear Him. Instead, I just feel lonely and a little lost.
How do I let go of my children while still loving them well? And how do I discover God’s purpose for this new chapter of my life?
How do I let go of my children while still loving them well? And how do I discover God’s purpose for this new chapter of my life?
READ MORE: How I realised I had made an idol of motherhood
Dear Reader,
Firstly, thank you for your honesty. I suspect many mothers will read your letter and think, “That’s exactly how I feel.” We often prepare ourselves for sleepless nights, teenage years and empty wallets, but very few of us prepare for the ache of an empty nest. One thing that struck me in your letter was this sentence: “They were my purpose.” It’s understandable why you feel that way. Motherhood is wonderfully absorbing. For years, your children needed you every single day. You knew your role, your routine and where your energy belonged. But while motherhood is a beautiful calling, it was never meant to be your entire identity.
Your daughter leaving her father and mother to become one with her husband isn’t a rejection of you, it’s actually a sign that you have parented well. You have raised a woman who is building a healthy marriage, just as God intended (Genesis 2:24). Likewise, your son’s growing independence isn’t evidence that he needs you less; it’s evidence that you’ve equipped him to flourish, but that doesn’t stop it hurting!
Grief often accompanies healthy transitions. We tend to associate grief with death, but we also grieve the end of seasons. You’re mourning daily conversations, spontaneous family time and being the first person your children turned to. That’s a real loss, and it’s okay to acknowledge it before God.
READ MORE: The untold stories of motherhood
At the same time, God invites us not to cling to what was when He is leading us into what is next.
At the same time, God invites us not to cling to what was when He is leading us into what is next. You say you can’t hear Him, but perhaps that’s because you’re listening for another role rather than listening for His presence. Before God asks us to do something new, He often invites us simply to be with Him. This season isn’t primarily about replacing motherhood with another job or ministry. It’s about rediscovering yourself as God’s beloved daughter before anything else.
Ask yourself: What did I enjoy before life became all about raising children? What gifts has God given me that have been lying dormant? Is there someone younger I could encourage? A ministry I never had time for? A friendship that needs nurturing? Or perhaps simply the freedom to rest after years of giving?
READ MORE: Motherhood took away my career identity—But God gave me something better
It’s also worth investing intentionally in your marriage. Many women realise, once children leave home, that they’ve unintentionally neglected other relationships. God often uses these transitions to deepen them.
Finally, remember that letting go doesn’t mean loving less. Your children still need you, just differently. They no longer need a manager; they need a safe place, a wise counsellor and someone who delights in them without trying to direct every decision. Your favourite family holidays don’t have to disappear either. They may simply look different now. Adult children often come back because home feels like a place of grace rather than obligation.
This season may feel empty, but emptiness in Scripture is often where God begins something new. Sarah, Naomi, Elizabeth and Anna all discovered that God was still writing their story long after they thought the most significant chapters were over. He isn’t finished with yours either.
No comments yet