HOW TO LET GO OF CONTROL WHEN PARENTING TEENS WITHOUT FEELING LIKE YOU'RE GIVING UP | EP. 225
Welcome to the Almost Empty Nest Podcast, where we moms of teens and college kids reframe what letting go really means to feel more connected, confident, and at peace. I'm your host, Master Coach Jennifer Collins.
What if the reason you feel so anxious and exhausted as a mom isn't because you're doing something wrong, but because you're trying to control something you were never meant to carry? If you're parenting a teen or a young adult and constantly wondering when to step in, when to back off, or whether you're somehow failing, this episode is for you. Today I'm talking about how to let go of control without feeling like you're giving up on your child or yourself. I'm going to show you why control has actually been a coping strategy and why it stops working as our kids grow up.
I'll also give you tangible examples of what letting go really looks like in real-life moments. So if you've been stuck in that exhausting loop of trying to do the right thing and still feeling wrong, you're going to want to hear this. Let's dive in.
Hello, my friend. Let's talk about control. You know, it's interesting. In my work, I've tended to use this word control really carefully because I think it can feel like it represents who we don't want to be as moms. I remember when my oldest told me I was trying to control his life. I felt like he'd punched me in the stomach because I wasn't at all trying to control him.
That's not the kind of mom I saw myself as or who I wanted to be, but also I could see how much he felt my efforts as control. It's something it's not always easy to admit to ourselves, which is why I found it so interesting that when I held a recent online class on the art of letting go and I asked moms in the class what they thought they needed to let go when it came to parenting their teens or young adults, what was fascinating was the vast majority of the moms wrote the word control, essentially that they needed to let go of control. But here's the thing.
I'm willing to bet that this group of moms who were brave enough and self-aware enough to admit to themselves and to me in the class that they needed to let go of control, I'm willing to bet that not one of them wants to control their kid. Instead, what I think they mean is actually much more complicated and nuanced. In fact, letting go of control doesn't actually mean just one thing.
For example, one area where we might feel we need to let go of control is really the part of you that feels responsible for how everything turns out. It's the worry about your kid's grades or their motivation, their mental health and their choices. It's the fear that if you don't stay on top of things, they'll fall behind, or worse, make a mistake that they won't recover from.
And usually when we find ourselves in this place, trying to motivate our kids or help them make good choices, and that doesn't work or starts impacting our relationship, we're left realizing we need to let go of this control, if for no other reason than because we see how futile our efforts are. Another layer of control we might want to let go is this constant overthinking and emotional exhaustion we can feel raising our kids. You can invest so much mental and emotional bandwidth thinking about what you should say or what you shouldn't say, whether you've already said too much.
Now, this overthinking is also tied to the responsibility we feel to help and support our kids. But the desire to let go here comes more from the exhaustion we feel carrying this responsibility. We can also recognize we need to let go of control when we see our kids struggle and we recognize we can't fix it.
Watching your child in pain causes us so much pain, and so naturally we want to try and make them feel better. But again, we realize we can't wave a magic wand and take away their pain anymore. So here, letting go of control is more like figuring out how to let them have their emotions without it taking you down.
When we're feeling these layers of fear and responsibility as we raise our kids, it's also natural to feel this compulsion to need reassurance to feel okay. So this is when we feel compelled to check their location on Life 360 or to need that text back to make sure they're okay, to check the grade portal to look for signs that they're on the right track. And look, we all do this to some extent, but you tend to be onto yourself when your need to check in feels more urgent, when you find it's hard to relax unless you have proof that they're okay.
And there are two key factors here that I'm guessing you can relate to. The first is a fear that something bad will happen to your child, whether that's physical or emotional pain, failure, long-term consequences, or just them missing something important. The other related thought that's often running in our heads is if something bad happens, it will be my fault.
It's the belief that you're responsible for your kid's outcomes and your role as a mom means preventing pain. So the problem here is that letting go feels irresponsible. But here's what's interesting.
When you put all of this together, the fear and the responsibility and the exhaustion and the overthinking, the checking and the fixing, something really important becomes clear. Control isn't actually the problem. Control is the strategy.
It's the way our minds and our nervous systems try to cope with the reality of loving someone we can't protect in the way that we used to. Control is really what we reach for when we feel scared, responsible, and helpless all at the same time. Honestly, it's what helps us feel like we're doing something in the face of uncertainty.
So what's interesting is that when we're checking grades or locations or replaying conversations in our minds, we're not only trying to guide and influence our kids, we're trying to regulate our own emotions. We're trying to calm our fears and reduce the discomfort of not knowing. Really, it's that we're trying to escape that awful feeling of helplessness that seems to come with this stage of motherhood.
And when you see control through that lens, it actually makes so much sense. And let's face it, for years, when our kids were little, control actually worked. We could step in and fix things.
And very often, we could also protect them from pain. So our brains learned, when something feels scary, do something. The problem is that this strategy stops working as your kid grows up.
And the reason that's true is because developmentally, your kid needs to learn how to think for themselves, to make their own decisions, and even to learn how to struggle on their own. And so they stop looking to us for answers or as the solution to help them fix things. But the thing is, us stepping in to help and fix, it's been a strategy that has brought us relief for a really long time.
And anything you practice over and over becomes a habit. And it's a habit your nervous system has relied on to keep you safe. So this habit feels really important.
It's honestly how our brain and body has learned how to survive motherhood. So when people say things like, you just need to let it go, it can feel almost insulting. Because from your nervous system's point of view, letting go doesn't feel safe.
It actually feels dangerous. Like removing the one thing that's helped you cope, and even helped you feel like a good mom. So pulling back, not checking, not stepping in and reminding, it's not just uncomfortable, it feels unsafe.
And this isn't because you've done something wrong. It's simply because your nervous system hasn't learned a new way to feel safe. And this is such an important thing to realize.
Because it's not that you're trying to be controlling. What you're really grasping for is protection and safety. And when it comes to our kids, this feels critically important.
But inevitably, we get to this place with our kids where we realize that this coping strategy that used to work, starts to cost us. When our kids were little, stepping in gave us relief. But now that our kids are older, stepping in often does the opposite.
In fact, it actually can increase your anxiety instead of calming it. You feel like you have to work harder to feel okay, but then you feel less okay. You think more, but you feel more unsure.
You stay more alert, but you feel more exhausted. And that's because as our kids now are older, finding safety feels like it requires constant vigilance. When our kids were little, the risks were visible and immediate.
You could see them trip and fall or hear them cry. For the most part, you always knew exactly where they were and what they needed. If something went wrong, it showed up right in front of you.
And you could respond and often resolve the situation pretty quickly. But now the risks aren't happening right in front of us anymore. We don't see the moment that they feel rejected.
We aren't privy to their thought process in terms of how they're making decisions or whether or not they're actually thinking those decisions through. We don't always know what conversations they're having or what they're thinking late at night. And some kids share more than others.
But even when they do, you're still only seeing part of the picture. You're hearing what they choose to share with you or getting the version they can put into words. So no matter what, there's still so much you don't know and can't see.
And that space gives your mind so much room to imagine what might be going on. And so it feels like staying alert, staying vigilant, is really the only responsible thing to do. But even when nothing is obviously wrong, your mind is still looking for signs, questioning whether you're doing enough.
So instead of peace, you live with this constant hum of anxiety, this feeling that you're always on duty. And my friend, this can happen just as much when your kids are away at college as it does when they're still living at home. And it's exhausting.
No matter how much you worry or try to approach your kid in the right way, it never quite feels like enough. And that's true even when you try to be self-aware and not controlling. I met a mom the other day who expressed this so beautifully.
She said, I try to give my daughter space, but then she accuses me of not supporting her. And then I try to step in and help, and she shuts me down. It's like you're damned if you do and damned if you don't.
And if you're in a place where you're really concerned about your kid in some way, about their choices or mental health or their safety, this becomes even harder. The choices about how to support your kid feel really high stakes. You're constantly second-guessing yourself.
Should I say something? Or am I doing too much? Am I not doing enough? In those moments when your kid is okay and on the right track, however fleeting they are, in those moments, you might feel okay. But when they're struggling or they pull away, you spin in anxiety. Your peace can feel like it's dependent on your kid.
And that's not because you're weak, but because you're trying to regulate yourself through something you can't actually control. And there's one more cost to all of this that's important to recognize. Even when our intentions are loving and we're truly not trying to control our kids, they can feel the pressure behind our efforts.
They can feel when we need them to be okay so that we can be okay. And that pressure can create distance. Not because they don't love us, but because they don't have the capacity to hold their stress and anxiety as well as ours.
And when we think of it this way, it's also the last thing we'd want to make them do. It's so easy to feel stuck. You try so hard to do the right thing and you still feel wrong.
You see the costs. You know you're exhausted and you see the impact it's having on your relationship with your kid. And that's when we start thinking, something has to give here.
Because living in this constant state of vigilance and doubt and frustration just isn't sustainable. And before I go any further, I want to be very clear about something. Because when we start talking about letting go, especially when it comes to control, our minds can jump to some pretty scary conclusions.
So let me tell you what letting go is not. Letting go does not mean you stop caring. It doesn't mean you suddenly become detached or indifferent to what's going on with your child.
I don't know that that would be possible even if we told ourselves we had to. If anything, the reason this is so hard is because you care so much. Letting go also doesn't mean you stop being a mom.
You don't stop having opinions or hopes or expectations for your child. You're always going to want the best for them. Letting go also doesn't mean you stop setting boundaries.
There are times when you still need to hold limits and enforce consequences. But at this stage, boundaries that work are ones that are actually in your control to enforce. The truth is, letting go doesn't mean you're going to approve of every choice your kid makes or that you have to pretend you're fine with things that actually worry you.
And it definitely doesn't mean you stop helping your kid when they do need you. What letting go does mean, though, is that you separate loving your child from trying to control what happens so that you can feel okay. Because when those two things are intertwined, our experience of motherhood gets really heavy.
Their mood becomes your mood. Their choices impact your peace. And their struggles feel like emergencies you have to solve.
And again, this doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong. You're just operating from a manual that used to work but that isn't working anymore. And my friend, I have been there too.
The truth is, this stage of motherhood asks something new of us. It asks us to tolerate uncertainty without stepping in to fix it. To sit with helplessness without making it mean it's our fault if something goes wrong.
And that's a really big shift. We used to take responsibility by stepping in and fixing and protecting. Just doing something to help and support our kid.
But now, responsibility means taking responsibility for our own emotional experience. For how we respond to our fears and how we care for our own anxiety. It's really taking responsibility for how we show up when things are uncomfortable.
In fact, letting go might even look like doing nothing on the outside but a whole lot of work on the inside. Because the truth is, your big kid cannot be the source of your emotional regulation. That's too much for them to carry and it's definitely not a reliable source of security for you.
So letting go actually becomes an act of strength, not surrender. It's acknowledging that you can love your child and take care of yourself in the moments when loving them feels scary. And that's actually where peace becomes possible.
Not because your kid suddenly changes, but because you do. So let me make this really tangible. Because letting go can feel really abstract until you see what it actually looks like in real life situations.
The truth is, letting go isn't some big dramatic decision. It's actually the little decisions you make in small ordinary moments, again and again. In fact, it's more like a daily practice.
Letting go happens in those moments when your kid comes to you stressed or upset about something and you feel that familiar anxiety come up. Your mind already starts racing. You're already trying to come up with solutions, getting ready to fix it.
But instead of doing something right away, you notice those urges inside of you and you pause. Instead of stepping in, giving advice, telling them what to do, you listen. You acknowledge your discomfort and theirs, and you take the time to hear if there's really something you need to do.
Letting go might also be in those times when you notice the urge to check Life360 or the grade portal just to make sure everything's okay. Letting go doesn't mean you never check. It means you pause to ask yourself, what am I actually looking for right now? If the answer is reassurance, you might experiment with not checking right away and sitting with that anxious feeling, reminding yourself that discomfort doesn't automatically mean that there's something wrong.
Letting go might also happen in those moments when your kid is making a choice that you don't love, or they're moving slower than you think they should. Letting go doesn't mean you suddenly approve or pretend you're fine with what they're doing. It might actually mean setting a that's in your Powered One Force, like how much support you're willing to offer, or whether you're willing to bail them out if they end up regretting their choices.
So often we try so hard to prevent our kid from making mistakes, but then we aren't honest with ourselves that even if they did make that mistake, we'd still be there to help and support them. So once you've shared your perspective and gotten clear with yourself about whether or not there's anything you can actually do, or any boundary you can actually enforce, there really is nothing left to do. And that can feel incredibly uncomfortable.
In that space where you're not stepping in, not fixing, you feel the full weight of the uncertainty of the situation. And in that discomfort, you naturally feel the urge to jump in and say it one more time, to make sure they really understand the potential consequences of their actions. But that urge is about you wanting relief.
In reality, letting go looks like allowing that urge to exist without always responding to it. There is no perfect way to do this, my friend. You're still going to worry.
You're still going to feel that urge to step in. And sometimes you're going to do that, and you're going to remind them one more time, or check in on them just to be sure. And there's nothing wrong with this.
But the process of learning to let go is building the capacity to pause, checking with yourself, and choose, over and over again, how you want to show up. Because I'm guessing what you want even more than feeling safe and more at peace, what you really want is for your child to grow and be independent, to be able to stand on their own. And that, my friend, is going to require them to go through the messy process of figuring things out on their own.
It's going to involve mistakes, and heartbreak, and disappointment, and even failure. And us trying to speed up that process or shield them from that pain, not only does it not work, it doesn't help them, and it ultimately doesn't help you either. So the truth is, the mom you want to be requires letting go.
Not letting go of your child, or your hopes or expectations for them, but really letting go of the belief that you have to control the process in order for things to turn out okay. What your child really needs from you isn't guidance or fixing, it's trust. And not blind or naive trust, but the kind of trust that says, I believe that you can figure this out, and I believe I can handle my own fear while you do.
And that's something no one ever taught us to do. We spent years learning how to take care of our kids, but very few of us have been taught how to take care of ourselves in the moments when our kids are struggling, or pulling away, or choosing a path we don't understand. Learning to let go is actually building a skill set.
A skill set that helps you recognize when your mind is pulling you toward control, understanding what's actually driving that urge, and choosing how you want to show up from a place of intention instead of fear. This skill set is what I teach in my coaching program, Mom 2.0. In this program, I don't tell you how to parent your child. I help you learn how to understand your mind, regulate your emotions, and separate what's actually in your control from what isn't, so that you can show up as the mom you want to be, no matter what your big kid is doing.
The result isn't just less anxiety. It's more confidence, peace, and a relationship with your child that will serve as the foundation for the one you want to have with them for the rest of your life. Letting go is an act of trust, not just in your child, but in yourself.
It's trust that you've given them what they need, that they're allowed to learn in their own way and in their own time, and trust that you can handle the discomfort that comes from loving them through it. The power to do this is already inside of you, my friend. The practice is believing that this is true.
And every time you choose trust over control, you strengthen that belief. You have more power than you think. Power is not the same as control.
Until next time, my friend.
If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love for you to check out my next free masterclass. There's a link in the show notes. You have more power than you think, my friend.
