12/15/2011 It’s the countdown to having a real empty nest. Not one of those false alarms from age 16, then age 17. This is a well thought-out version of my daughter moving out. Even though I don’t agree with some of her plans, she has solid plans this time and she’s actually being very mature about the situation. I have to give her credit and lots of respect for this.
I also must give her due credit for being aware of money, credit, paying bills, earning a paycheck . . . courtesy of working since she was 15 and having a great job at a credit card company. She’s pretty savvy for an 18-year-old and is thus going to be in charge of the finances at her new apartment—collecting the rent, utility, and expense money from everyone and doling it out. She also took care of getting the ball rolling—finding the apartment, turning on the utilities, negotiating the lease, and making various lists of things to do . . . with little to no help from me.
It’s the right thing at the right time—I approve of where she’s going to live (I visited the complex with her a few months ago), and I don’t even mind that she’s going to live with her boyfriend. Don’t get me wrong, I think she’s too young and it’s way too early, but on the other hand, he’ll protect her from harm and take care of her. There’s something about him that makes her feel content and loved, and that’s what she’s been seeking her whole life. I apparently can’t adequately provide for these needs, no matter how much I say and demonstrate how much I love her. So I guess if it can’t be mommy, it can be the boyfriend. They have been making plans together on how they’re going to run their household, including their budget, house rules, and décor!
Even though this process started from a fiery event—when she was caught in the park doing no-good and me shouting that she’s out of my house—it’s going to end up being a godsend. I have high hopes—she’ll be happier having her independence and truly being allowed to grow up. I also believe that our relationship will have a chance to be normal and peaceful. For me, my stress will be reduced 10-fold and I’ll be able to have a life that doesn’t involve waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Speaking of me, I’ll miss her desperately because, despite anything she says or does, I love her deep in my soul and would stand in front of a speeding bullet for her; however, I need the blessed space. I need to breathe and relax and enjoy my middle age, complete with the gray hair and wrinkles I’ve earned. I think having that space will give us both a new perspective on how much we mean to each other and we’ll eventually be able to talk about real things, real life—without me saying the wrong thing in the wrong way at the wrong time and having her shut me down and shut me out.
All I can do is wait and see, check in with the situation in about a month and decide if it’s working. I have my fingers crossed and my troll doll activated.