Further Beyond the Nest

When I started this blog, I was in a different season of life. My kids had just started college and my world looked different. And if I’m being fair, I looked at the world differently too.

A lot has happened since then.

My kids grew up. I turned 50. Menopause entered the chat. I learned what it meant to be a caregiver. Careers evolved. Relationships changed. I moved halfway across the country. There has been grief and joy and worry and a whole lot of starting over. And somewhere in all of that, I changed too.

I don’t mean that in some dramatic, “I have discovered the meaning of life” kind of way. I just think I see things differently now. Again. Life is an evolution of change, isn't it?

For a long time, I thought wisdom was something you eventually arrived at. You lived long enough, raised the kids, made enough mistakes, survived enough hard things, and eventually you became the person who knew what she was doing. I'm not so sure that's how it works anymore. Because in all honesty, I’m 50 years old and I still find myself thinking, wait, are we all just figuring this out as we go?

My sister Trish and I actually talked about this in our newest episode of It’s Just Life Here. We were talking about our adult kids and I said that when I’m dealing with them, I still sometimes feel young too, like I’m figuring out this stage right alongside them. When we were their age, I remember looking at our parents and thinking they knew everything. Maybe we didn’t always want their advice, but surely they had life figured out.

Now I’m the parent, and I have some news. There is no book. Or if there is, somebody forgot to send me my copy.

The funny thing is that our podcast episode was supposed to be about empty nesting. That was the idea anyway. But, like most conversations between Trish and me, we wandered. And I’m really glad we did, because somewhere in that wandering I realized that the empty nest isn’t really an ending at all.

When the kids first leave, it feels very specific. The house gets quiet. Suddenly there aren’t football games, baseball games, dance recitals, school schedules or a hundred places everyone needs to be. For years, there was never enough time, and then one day there is time and you’re standing there thinking, okay…now what? I remember having to figure out what I liked again. What DID I like? What did I want to do with my time? There was so much to learn.

During the podcast, Trish and I talked about how different our relationship with our adult children is from the relationship we had with our parents at the same age. I don’t say that as criticism of our parents. In fact, I think one of the things age has given me is a much greater appreciation for the fact that every generation parents from the world they know. There were things our parents simply couldn’t guide us through because they hadn’t experienced them. We were among the first in our family to navigate some of our college experiences, so we figured things out. Then we figured out the next thing. And eventually, that became normal.

Our kids are doing the same thing now, except the world they are entering looks completely different from the one we entered thirty years ago. The economy is different. Careers are different. Technology is different. Relationships are different. The expectations placed on young adults are different.

So I can’t always look at my kids and say, “Well, when I was your age…” I can only share what I know and what I learned the hard way. I can tell them what I wish I had known. But I also have to be willing to listen to the life they are living. Maybe that is what generational wisdom is supposed to look like.

The older I get, the more I think about what women inherit from the generations before us. We inherit recipes and photographs and traditions, of course, but we also inherit expectations, fears, beliefs, strength, silence, resilience and ideas about who we are supposed to be. Some of those things are beautiful and some deserve another look. Truthfully - some need to stop with us.

I think about that a lot right now because we are living through a time when it feels impossible not to question things. We are watching very public conversations about women, power, abuse, consent, children, accountability and who gets protected when harm happens. We are watching institutions and leaders show us what they value. We are watching younger generations question things many women before them were expected to quietly accept.

And here I am, right in the middle of menopause, at an age when women historically have been expected to fade gently into the background, feeling less interested than ever in being quiet about the things that matter. I don’t feel invisible.

I feel awake.

I find myself much less interested in pretending not to notice what I notice. I wonder what my grandmothers noticed. I wonder what they talked about with their sisters and friends when no one else was around. I wonder what they accepted because that was simply what women did. I wonder what they questioned privately. I wonder what they would think about the conversations women are having now.

Even the way I think about family has changed. For years, we’ve talked about people my age being the “sandwich generation,” caught between adult children who still sometimes need us and aging parents who increasingly need us too. And yes, sometimes it definitely feels like a sandwich. But while Trish and I were talking, she described it more like an ebb and flow, and I loved that.

Sometimes one person is strong and carrying a little more. Sometimes someone else needs help. Sometimes the kids need us. Sometimes our parents do. Eventually, we may be the ones who need them. Life works better when we have people.

But I’m starting to understand that independence and connection were never opposites. And that is where Beyond the Nest is going. I don’t think this space is going to be about me telling anyone how to live their life. There are plenty of people on the internet willing to do that already. I want this to be a place where we can talk about what changes as we change.

About raising children and then learning how to know them as adults. About becoming daughters who sometimes have to care for the people who once cared for us. About menopause and aging and bodies that suddenly have opinions of their own. About faith when life gets complicated. About friendships, caregiving, relationships, work, grief, joy, anger, purpose and whatever else life decides to throw into the mix.

So yes, Beyond the Nest is back.

I’m just not the same woman who started it. And I think that might be the whole point.