“MY BIG KID TOLD ME TO GET A LIFE”—THOUGHTS MOMS PARENTING TEENS AND ADULT KIDS ARE ASHAMED THEY THINK | EP. 266
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.
Have you ever had a thought as a mom and then immediately felt terrible for thinking it? Believe me, you're not alone, and you're truly not a bad mom for thinking it. In this series on the thoughts us moms are ashamed we think, I'm exploring these thoughts and where they're coming from. Because when you shift from judgment to understanding, that's when everything changes. Let's dive in.
Hello, my friend.
My kid told me to get a life. Ouch. Maybe they even have said those exact words to you.
Or maybe it was some version of them. Mom, don't you have anything better to do? Or why do you care so much? Can you please just stop asking about it? Seriously, you need to find a hobby. Maybe they were teasing you, but when they said it, it didn't land as a joke.
Or maybe they said it with an eye roll, or they sounded annoyed. Maybe you had asked one too many questions, but it also felt like you were being slapped back unnecessarily hard. And even if you acted as though it didn't bother you in the moment, I'm guessing it probably did.
Because when your kid tells you to get a life, it feels like a judgment. It can sound like your kid is saying, you're too interested in my life because you don't have one of your own. And that can hit a very tender place.
And when we hear this kind of thing from our kids, it's actually not at all surprising that we become defensive. We might say, I'm your mom, of course I care. Or maybe if you communicated with me, I wouldn't have to ask so many questions.
Or maybe we don't say any of that out loud. We just feel the sting of their words. You walk away feeling hurt and angry, and somehow a little embarrassed.
You think, my kid thinks I'm pathetic. I've made my entire life about my kids, and now they don't even want me around. Or they think they don't need me at all.
And now they're telling me to back off and find something else to do. And my friend, this is incredibly painful for so many reasons. I mean, for a really long time, being needed was just part of motherhood.
It wasn't something you were doing wrong, or a sign that you were overly involved or controlling. You building your life around your kid was actually what they needed from you. And it was important that you keep track of where they were going and who they were with, what time they'd be home.
They needed you to remember that the permission slip was due on Friday, or that they needed a physical by August, that the soccer uniform had to be washed. I mean, you're welcome that I've been keeping track of what you like to eat so that the fridge is always stocked. For so long, it's been important that we noticed when our kid was quieter than usual.
They needed us to ask what was wrong, even if they said nothing. It was important that they knew someone cared. So much of motherhood has required us to be on top of how our kids are doing and what they needed.
And honestly, our ability to be tuned in and anticipate needs and smooth over problems, it's been a big part of how we've loved our kids over the years. But as our kids get older, something starts to change. Our attentiveness starts to feel like too much attention.
The questions that used to make our kids feel like we cared are now somehow intrusive. The reminders that used to keep our kids on track are now received as criticism or nagging. And all the ways that you've been involved in the past, the things that have made you a responsible mom when your kids were younger, are now somehow being received by our kids as us not trusting them to manage their own lives.
And this transition is really confusing because it's not a clean break. The truth is, in so many ways, your kid does still need you. Sometimes they still even want and need your help at the most inconvenient times.
And every once in a while, they really do need your advice, or in fact, can't even do something without you being involved. They may call you in a panic because they don't know what to do. They need you to proofread an email to a potential employer, or they're not sure how to approach a decision, or they call because they don't remember what temperature to set the oven to cook something you've cooked for them a thousand times.
They do need you. Sometimes they need you to drop everything to help them. And then 24 hours later, you ask what happened, how did that thing turn out that I helped you with? And they say, mom, stop, I can handle it.
And it's like, wait a minute, yesterday you needed me, but today I'm butting in too much? I mean, which is it? It's incredibly confusing because there is no clean handoff between when you're responsible and when they're supposed to be able to handle it on their own. There's also no manual for this transition. In fact, with each of our kids, the needs and their ability for them to take responsibility for their lives can be drastically different.
So how exactly are we supposed to know what to do? And even worse, the roles seem to change from day to day. Come closer, but not that close. Help me.
I've got it. Why didn't you ask? Why are you asking so many questions? I mean, honestly, it's not hard to feel as though you're constantly getting it wrong. So when your big kid says get a life, it can seem like confirmation of something that you're already afraid is true.
And I think there's another reason these words can feel so brutal, because there's something almost insulting about being told to get a life by the person you have built so much of your life around. I mean, for decades, you've arranged your life around their needs. Honestly, in many ways, you've also put your needs and your preferences last to care for theirs.
You may have chosen where to live based on the quality of the schools in your neighborhood. You organized your days around practices and games and appointments, carpools, the errands that needed to happen to keep the family going. I mean, raise your hand if you've been to Target or some craft store at nine o'clock at night because your kid somehow remembered they needed poster board to complete some project that was, of course, due tomorrow.
You've stayed home and canceled plans when your kid was sick. And how many nights have you given up sleep? I mean, of course, when they were babies. But even now, when you're waiting up for them to get home safely, they've needed something, you made it happen.
You drove back to school when they forgot something they absolutely had to have, even after you specifically asked them three times whether or not they had it as they walked out the door. You've not only physically carried the stuff your kid might need, the snacks and the medication, the extra change of clothes, but you also carry the mental load of everything they need to be doing. I'm recording this in late July, and I've talked to so many moms whose kids are leaving for college, and they're the ones running through the checklist of everything their kid needs to buy before they go.
You've sat through games in the freezing cold and performances where you could barely see your kid from where you were sitting. You've spent years, decades, making sure your kid's life worked. And you gave up a lot to do it.
I mean, yes, it was our choice to have kids. But also, let's face it, there has been so much about ourselves and our own dreams and needs that have been put on the back burner to care for our kids. I mean, maybe we wouldn't want it any other way, but also, we probably stopped doing things that we loved because there just wasn't time.
Or you might have lost touch with friends because your weekends were full, or you couldn't get a sitter. Even your marriage can feel like it becomes mostly conversations around kids' needs and logistics. You've spent so long asking what everyone else needed that you stopped asking what you wanted.
And most of the time, you probably didn't even experience that as some terrible sacrifice. I mean, we do love our kids, and we wanted to support them and to be the mom who took care of her family. It's not like we were doing this under duress.
And for many of us, we look back on those moments of being a mom of younger kids with so much tenderness. Isn't it funny how looking back, you really only remember the good stuff? But inevitably, this job, and this is true even if you've worked outside of the home, but if you're raising kids, they become your top priority, full stop, which means their life really has become the central organizing factor of ours. Their schedule was your schedule.
Their problems were your problems. You've cared deeply about their success and their happiness. And your kids' future has been something you've been actively invested in helping them to build.
And then somehow, one day, the person whose life has literally been the focus and goal of your life for so long says to you, don't you have a life? It's like, excuse me? Yes, I have a life. And I've spent it raising you. Now, you may never say these things out loud, but there can be a part of you that feels it.
A part of you that wants to say, do you have any idea how much of my life has been devoted to making yours possible? Honestly, it makes you angry. And another emotion that comes up is grief. When moms have shared these exact experiences with me, they don't come to the call angry.
They're not necessarily ranting about how ungrateful their kids are. Although there's definitely a part of us that can feel that too. But typically, when they share these experiences with me, often these moms will get tears in their eyes and they'll start grabbing for a tissue.
Because when our kid says, get a life, it forces us to face that our kid is building a life that is increasingly separate from ours. And our kid isn't necessarily thinking about what happens to mom as they do it. Honestly, they're just thinking about themselves and what they want.
And we know that this is exactly what they're supposed to be doing. In fact, it's everything we've always wanted for them. But that doesn't necessarily make it feel any better.
Because while they're moving forward into this exciting new life, you may be standing there thinking, wait, what happens to mine? And sometimes I think we carry an unspoken expectation into the stage of motherhood. Somewhere deep down, we thought that all of this closeness, all of this involvement, and all those years of giving would mean that we would always have a central place in our kids' lives. I mean, I know I've felt this way.
We imagine that as they get older, they'll eventually appreciate us more, that they'd finally understand everything that we've done for them. And I think it goes well beyond wanting them to just be grateful. I think we also want our kids to be proud of us.
We want them to look at us and see someone interesting, someone who's important in their life. If we're honest, we want them to think of us as someone whose life has value and meaning. And that can be hard to admit, because it sounds like we're asking our child for validation or approval.
But it also makes so much sense that we feel this way. I mean, we love our kids, and their opinions matter to us. We've spent years hoping they would grow into people we are proud of.
And some part of us hopes they'll feel proud of us, too. So when your kid says, get a life, it may touch on a fear that goes far beyond, they don't need me anymore. It may even sound like, they don't respect the life that I've built.
They look at me and see someone who has nothing of her own. And suddenly motherhood, the work you've poured yourself into, doesn't feel like enough. And this can feel like a really icky kind of pressure.
You start feeling as though you need to prove that you have a life. Moms will come to me saying, I think I need to find some new purpose, some project, something my kid could see me and feel proud of me about. You begin looking at your own life through what you imagine are your child's eyes.
And there's absolutely nothing wrong with wanting more for yourself, or realizing there are parts of you that you want to rediscover, or dreams that you've postponed. But exploring those dreams and desires is very different when it comes from feeling excited about what's next, rather than the shame of thinking why life's not good enough as it is. Because maybe you don't want some grand new purpose.
You're not interested in building a career or starting some big new project. Maybe the life you've built around raising your family has been everything you've wanted. And now, frankly, you're looking forward to a break.
But also, maybe there's a part of you that wants to know if your kid is right. Do I need to get a life? Am I too involved? Have I made my life too much about my kid? The truth is, you're the only one who gets to answer those questions. Your big kid may be reacting to a moment when you ask too many questions, or they may be pushing for more independence.
When they say these words, they could have been irritated at you, or just bad at communicating what they need. You do not have to accept their perspective of you as the truth. But it's also interesting for you to get curious about what your kid's judgmental comments stir up in you.
Why do their words have so much power? Because the truth is, getting a life isn't actually as simple as finding a hobby. Because you can fill your calendar and still feel lost. And you can also have a beautiful, meaningful life without embarking on some big career or starting a new project.
The question really isn't whether your life looks full enough to anyone else. Because when someone judges you, their judgment will rarely bother you unless it touches something that is already tender inside of you. And that is truly worth getting curious about.
Also notice that there's a huge difference between thinking, I need to find something to do so my kid will stop thinking I'm pathetic, and thinking, I'm ready to be curious about what I want now. The first statement is about how your kid or how other people see you. But the second invites you to honor how you really want to see yourself.
It's really interesting to consider that this stage of motherhood is not only asking you to loosen your grip on your child's life. It's inviting you to develop a stronger relationship with yourself. And my friend, I want to acknowledge that that is hard work.
We've spent decades focused on our kids, knowing what they want and what they need. But when I ask moms, what do you want? So often they'll tell me they have no idea. These moms will be able to tell me exactly what they want for their child and their relationship.
But when I ask her what she wants for herself, she'll look up, shake her head, the tears will come to her eyes, and there'll be silence. But that silence does not mean something has gone wrong. It may just be a sign that there is a part of you that may need your attention right now.
And this absolutely does not mean you need to become some entirely new person. But it could be that the version of you who carried your family through all these years may not be the same version of you who is meant to carry you into what comes next. My friend, exploring all of this is the work we do inside of Mom 2.0. I teach you how to stay deeply connected to your kid without allowing their choices, moods, or opinions determine how you feel about yourself.
Through the process you learn in this program, you'll come to understand why certain interactions with your kid have so much power over you and how to stop handing that power away. I offer Mom 2.0 both in one-on-one coaching and in a group format. You can learn more through the link in the show notes.
My friend, if your kid has ever told you to get a life or something that feels very similar, maybe your work isn't to prove to them that you have one. Maybe instead the invitation is to stop letting your kid's opinion become the measure of whether your life is valuable. You have spent years helping your child become who they are or who they're becoming, and now perhaps this next chapter is about who you are becoming.
And I'm not talking about what you should do next or what would make your kid more impressed by your life, but really who you believe yourself to be when you're no longer needed in the same way. Because your life doesn't become valuable when your kid finally sees its value. In fact, you don't need anyone else to give you permission to believe that you are enough.
So what are you waiting for, my friend? Until next time.
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.
