Over the weekend my son moved out. He’s my first kid. My only son. He holds a special place in my heart. As we packed him up I memorized the moment. The chill in the air, the leaves falling from the trees, his vacant room, his smiling face.
But most of all I wanted to remember how I felt.
Peaceful. Joyful. Satisfied.
For 18 years he’s lived in my home. I know him very well. He’s smart and kind and funny. He’s a whiz at math and can fix almost anything. He’s loved and cherished and then some.
Our journey’s had its ups and downs. There were good days and bad days. Celebrations of sheer bliss. Trials of deep sorrow.
Parenting him as a child was easy. We played, we talked, we bonded. Hugs and kisses the daily proof that all was well. I thought it would stay this way … always.
And then … parenting him as a teen was hard. We disagreed, we argued, we separated.
He wanted to be alone. I wanted to be with him.
He wanted to stay up late. I wanted him to get up early.
He wanted to play video games. I wanted him to do his homework.
We couldn’t see eye to eye.
Soon things got worse. Failing grades, depression, and threats of suicide. There were moments when I believed all was lost. That I’d failed as a mother. That he’d passed the point of no return. Nothing could fix what ailed us. Our bond broken. Our connection lost. I cried and cried.
Until I couldn’t cry anymore.
I was tired of crying.
I was tired of arguing.
I was tired of living this way.
I longed to know my son and have a close relationship with him before it was too late.
To do this I needed to change. I became a cheerleader instead of a police officer. I turned my interest to what made him tick. I practiced seeing him as he was, not as I wanted him to be. I planned fun things for us to do together. I tucked him in. (Yes, as a teenager.) I allowed him to be my teacher. I partnered with him to make his dreams come true.
And soon the arguing stopped.
We began to talk.
We began to understand each other.
We began to bond again.
The evidence was all around me.
More time spent in the common areas of our home.
Less pushback when asked to do chores.
Happier family meals.
And my favorite…him seeking me out. Because he wanted to.
For the last few years we’ve played, we’ve talked, we’ve bonded.
The memories we’ve shared together are priceless.
They have changed me and helped him.
I will always hold them close.
As I walked away from his dorm, leaving my grown boy there, I felt peaceful, joyful, and satisfied. There was not an ounce of regret. He’s embarking on his first real-life adventure all on his own. He’s ready and I’m ready.
My friend, the minutes pass slowly but the years fly by. Cherish each and every one.
I was able to create the relationship I longed for with my teenage son. I did it by acquiring skills. The skills that make connecting with a teenager simple. I did it and I will help you do it too. If you’re ready, simply reply to this email and we’ll make it happen.
