Turning Towards Life
As my daughter emptied her drawers and packed up her bags, I was struck by how much this moment holds—pride, worry, excitement, grief—all jumbled together in one tender, complicated bundle.
I’m so proud of all she has accomplished and the courage it takes to step into this next chapter. I worry about gaps, those little life lessons I might not have yet shared, the situations she’ll face where my voice won’t be the one she hears. I also feel tremendous excitement for all that is ahead, including new friendships, an abundance of challenges and inevitable growth, and a deep sense of purpose she’s experiencing. And I grieve, in a quiet way, it’s a beginning but also a profound ending.
A tangle of emotions for sure, but underneath it all is a deep truth: this is her life, her journey, and I trust it and her implicitly. My role has shifted over the years from hands-on guide to steady witness, from daily director to a trusted presence in the wings. It’s humbling and clarifying all at once to remember that loving her well now means letting her go, knowing she’s ready, and trusting that I am too.
The temptation for me is to rush through this change, aiming to reach a “new normal” as quickly as possible. I like to have a plan, check boxes, and get sh*t done. But there’s power in giving ourselves, and the people around us, permission to move through the transition slowly and intentionally.
And it’s also where boundaries help—helping me remember that another person’s stress or struggle is not a reflection of my worth or a measure of my love. My role is to show up with steadiness, not perfection.
Sacred transitions aren’t about making change easy. They’re about honoring the liminal space between what was and what’s coming.
I’ve been reminding myself daily:
I can’t be in charge of how she experiences this transition.
I can offer steadiness without needing to be in control.
I can allow space between us without losing our connection.
Whatever is before you in this season of life, may you find moments of clarity, connection, and steadiness along the way. The beauty of these in-between spaces is that they shape us in ways we can’t yet see, and that requires trust, courage, and a lot of patience.
