My mother’s heart has often ached these last few years as I learn to adjust to this new season of 20 something-year-old independence. Dear old Mom is not needed as much right now. Mother's Day amplifies what I'm missing year round and sharpens this painful sense of loss.

 

I guess in a way that means we did something right. I wanted to make sure he could be self-sufficient and succeed as an adult and it worked. Still, it’s hard to let go and not be a regular part of my son’s life anymore. 

 

My son is the only person who calls me Mom. I have had numerous people over the years ask me if I always knew I only wanted one child, or why I chose to stop at just one. I'm sharing this in case any of you have done that in hopes that you'll reconsider how to approach parents of only children.

 

I always wanted a house full of kids. My son was the only one I was blessed to have, with four others lost in early pregnancy. I trust God had His reasons ...  and He gave me an abundance of cats instead. I love them of course, but it's not the same.

 

This week I am missing my little boy. The one who thought I was wonderful and saw me as his whole world. From tight hugs, big smiles and daily “I love you’s,” I knew that all of my efforts were making a difference. I’m far from perfect and have made plenty of mistakes, but what an honor and a privilege we're given as parents to help shape another human being. 

 

I did a lot of things right. I gave my son everything I desperately needed as a child: unwavering love, encouragement, involvement and consistency. Through ups and downs, I’ve been there for him. 

 

I'm here for him still and I enjoy doing anything I can to help him or make his day brighter, but now things are just different. Those acts of love and caring don't seem to connect us like they did before. They don't elicit much love or appreciation, at least not in a visible way. Admittedly, he is resentful and avoidant and as painful as it is, I’ve had to look at what my part is in that. 

 

After much soul-searching, I'm coming to see that I've been an overachiever mother, then and now. I've needed to be needed a little too much. I wanted a perfect family a little too much. I'm beginning to recognize that everything I gave wasn't entirely for him. Every gift wasn't free. 

 

Despite my best intentions, I managed to instill the message that he forever owes me love and gratitude because I have been such a great mom. I hoped to be cherished and celebrated for continuing to go above and beyond, even (especially) when it meant setting my other needs aside at the first sign of being needed. No one wants to be made to reciprocate kindness and love, especially not after receiving a “sticky gift.”

 

Painful situations offer us an opportunity to discover how we may be contributing to what's happening, and what needs to change in us. 

 

What can I do now, in this case, to be loving and more significant to my son, while not looking to be needed as a mom to soothe other wounds from my past? First and foremost, my intentions will be held up for close examination. Am I doing something with ulterior motives to benefit me, or doing something out of pure love? Intentions are key.

 

Even in the best relationships, motherhood changes when kids leave home to lead their own lives. As women, we wear many hats, but "wife" and "mother" are possibly the strongest sources of identity among all the other roles we carry. It's easy to let who we really are take a backseat to our dedication to our family. When the kids leave, we have to search for what's going to fill that void, that loss of fulfillment that made up such a big part of who we were, for so many years. It won't get better overnight but it can get better if we’re willing to be open-minded, face the truth where necessary and grow.

 

Life is full of seasons. For me, this one is not particularly easy as a mother, a wife, or as a woman whose journey is shifting into unknown territory. I know I have to focus on the gifts today brings. The other option leads down a miserable road of self-pity and that's a party I'd rather not attend. (I've thrown a few lately and it's a waste of time and energy.)

 

My book and art were born after my son left for college and I am slowly finding my way back to me. But sometimes, I just really miss being a mom who matters as much as before and gets to hear what's going on more often.

 

If you’ve navigated these waters as a mother with grown children, what advice would you give? What do you wish you had known at the time? What would you have done differently? 

 

I shared this on social media over the weekend and a lot of people commented. Since it seemed to hit a nerve, I'm curious what you all have experienced and can share. 

 

Since posting, I'm learning that Mother's Day is a painful or bittersweet holiday for many women, yet no one talks about it much. I felt a strong need to censor myself too, but I decided to take a risk and share anyway. I'm glad I did. 

 

I’d love to hear your comments and how you face this in your own life. Join the conversation in our FTG Reader's Group on Facebook. Much love if your heart has mother aches too...