After College Move-In Day: Discovering What’s Next
The car is suddenly quiet, and for the first time in months, it’s empty. Not long ago it was crammed with bins of dorm supplies, shopping bags, and all the little things your child insisted they had to have for college life. The past year was full of excitement — campus tours, acceptance letters, decision deadlines, endless trips to Target. But after the move-in whirlwind, the silence hits differently. Your young adult has officially launched, and the reality settles in: the nest has shifted.
The Emotional Adjustment
The early weeks can feel like an odd mix of relief, sadness, and uncertainty. You’re proud of your child’s growth, but you may also miss the daily interactions, the routines, and the small ways you were involved in their life.
Allow the Feelings
Acknowledge both the joy and the grief. Psychologists call this ambiguous loss — when someone is physically absent but still emotionally close. It’s a normal, well-documented part of transitions like the empty nest (Boss, 2006).
Rebuilding Daily Routines
With fewer school activities or meals to coordinate, your calendar may suddenly have more blank space.
Try Intentional Scheduling
Block off “learning time” just as you’d block off a parent-teacher meeting or evening practice. That space is sacred now.
Redefining Freedom
It’s also a strangely freeing stage. When your child goes off to college, there’s a sense of accomplishment — especially after years spent orchestrating every ride, activity, and tournament. Suddenly you’re not running to every practice or sitting in every set of bleachers. That shift can feel like breathing room. And it’s healthy for your kids to see you dive into your own life — whether that means advancing your career, getting involved locally, or rediscovering what lights you up.
For me, this summer, I took up fishing. It’s been humbling and thrilling: learning how to rig a line with the hook, leader, and sinker; figuring out which bait works best for the local fish; practicing how to cast off the pier without tangling everything; and slowly getting to know the waters and the species that live there. But it’s also about the atmosphere — being near the water, listening to the waves, feeling the sun on your skin, people-watching on the pier, soaking in the stillness until that sudden rush of excitement when something finally tugs the line. Every small step — from choosing tackle to reeling in even the tiniest catch — has been a reminder that I can start something new, even now. It’s proof that identity is flexible and growth doesn’t stop just because a chapter has closed.
Everyday Shifts that Open New Doors
Your “what’s next” doesn’t have to be monumental to matter. It can be as simple as:
Starting that home project you’ve put off — repainting a room, planting a garden, or finally tackling the garage.
Learning a skill or craft just because you want to: cake decorating, pottery, or sewing.
Trying a sport that always intrigued you but never fit in the family schedule: golf, tennis, or pickleball.
Taking on decluttering as a lifestyle project — editing your space room by room, donating what no longer serves you, and enjoying the calm that comes with it.
The point isn’t perfection. It’s building momentum through small, intentional shifts. Research in adult development shows that staying active, engaged, and connected during life transitions is strongly tied to higher well-being (Carstensen, 1999; Havighurst, 1961; Piliavin & Siegl, 2007).
What Comes Next
This chapter isn’t about losing your identity — it’s about evolving it with intention. Your child’s independence reflects the foundation you built. Now your independence gets the spotlight.
That summer I learned to fish, I realized I wasn’t tied to the past version of “mom with the whistle and minivan.” I could be someone who meets dawn at the water’s edge, who learns new techniques, who loses and gains patience, who tries again the next day. That experience gives me courage to try new things in work, hobbies, or personal growth.
So pick one door — open the one that draws you even a little — and walk through it. The rest open faster once you’re already in motion. And before you know it, your kids will be home for a break, and you’ll have things of your own to share with them.
References
American Psychological Association. (2023). Life after the empty nest. https://www.apa.org/topics/parenting/empty-nest
Boss, P. (2006). Loss, trauma, and resilience: Therapeutic work with ambiguous loss. W.W. Norton & Company.
Carstensen, L. L. (1999). Taking time seriously: A theory of socioemotional selectivity. American Psychologist, 54(3), 165–181. https://doi.org/10.1037/0003-066X.54.3.165
Havighurst, R. J. (1961). Successful aging. The Gerontologist, 1(1), 8–13. https://doi.org/10.1093/geront/1.1.8
Piliavin, J. A., & Siegl, E. (2007). Health benefits of volunteering in the Wisconsin longitudinal study. Journal of Health and Social Behavior, 48(4), 450–464. https://doi.org/10.1177/002214650704800408
Sources:
Boss, P. (2006). Loss, Trauma, and Resilience.
American Psychological Association. “Life after the Empty Nest” (2023).
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