Authored by: Nancy Schornack, LMHC, counselor, coach and owner of Second Journey Counseling
I still remember the day he drove away.
My youngest had graduated from college, spent his last summer at home, and was driving off to begin his life a state away as a full-fledged adult. My mind flooded with memories. And tears formed with the realization that we would never again house a child.
Of course, this had happened in layers. First one child left, then another. College years still brought them home for summers and holidays. Their rooms stayed familiar, waiting for their return. But this moment felt different. Final. The last root pulled out.
The empty nest is a real place of grief and joy – one of the most significant experiences a parent will face.
There is loss: loss of identity as mom or dad, loss of ordinary moments together, loss of the beautiful rhythm of dependence and independence that fills a family home.And there is joy: the joy of watching your children grow, evolve, explore, and expand – which of course means they leave. I hold a strong conviction that nothing makes our kids happier than seeing us fulfilled. Yet it can be painful to realize that when we have done our job well, our children no longer need us in the same way.
Thus, the empty nest becomes a fork in the road. We can resist, cling, or fight against the transition. Or we can choose to grow, too.
So, What Does It Look Like to Grow Into an Empty Nest?
First, name and feel the grief. The grief of the empty nest is real. It is the result of profound change. The parent-child relationship still exists, but it has fundamentally shifted. Sadness, longing, disorientation, and loss of purpose can all emerge. Don’t rush to push the grief away. It honors the love you shared and the life you built together.
Second, give yourself permission to experience both/and emotions – holding space for both grief and joy. Try writing yourself a permission slip: “I give myself permission to feel sadness, loneliness, and uncertainty…while also feeling anticipation, freedom, excitement, and hope for what may come next.”
And finally, expand and explore for yourself.
I remember the first Friday night after our youngest left for college. For years, Friday nights meant high school football games – friends, pep bands, concession stand hot dogs, cheering on the team.
But this Friday night was different. We didn’t have to go to the game. So instead, we called dear friends we hadn’t seen regularly in years and drove thirty miles for dinner. It opened a whole new world to us – one that had been waiting quietly while we were immersed in parenting.The canvas we painted while raising our children was wonderful. But the canvas ahead could be wonderful too. Maybe the empty nest is your invitation to explore new hobbies, friendships, travel, work, or adventures. Or perhaps it is a time to reconnect with parts of yourself that were lovingly set aside during the parenting years.
Back to that day after my son drove away: I cried big tears for quite a while. Then I turned toward myself and asked the question Mary Oliver made famous: “What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
And I began carving out my new normal that very day.
I went for a walk. I smiled at the fall trees, the memories of a wonderful summer, and the adventure my son was driving towards. Then I made plans – coffee with a friend, a date night with my husband, joining that book club, and yes, planning my first visit to my son’s new home.
It has been 11 years now, and I no longer call it an empty nest. It is still a nest, and it is oh so full. It holds my marriage, my friendships, my work, my hobbies, and the life I continue to grow into. And it is still the place my children return to – now bringing children of their own.
Maybe the best advice I can give is this: grieve your empty nest, and then slowly, intentionally, lovingly, fill it again. Not with busyness, but with life.
Your nest may not be empty after all.
Nancy Schornack, LMHC, is a counselor, coach, and owner of Second Journey Counseling, helping navigate life transitions with courage, clarity, compassion.
This article originally appeared in the September 2026 issue of Financial Perspectives®: The Magazine. Explore the full issue for more perspectives on navigating life’s transitions and the opportunities that can come with change.
