“Our primary goal for visit is to hug you and feed you. So prepare your list of favorite places to go. 🥰🤗” That was the text I sent my 18-year-old daughter before visiting her for Parents Weekend last weekend. I also added that, of course, we wanted to watch her dance and perform as well.
She sent us a few restaurant suggestions, but we never quite nailed down a schedule. Normally, that would have bothered me. After all, we were planning an entire weekend around seeing her. The old me would have wanted to firm up our plans and make sure we had enough time together.
But this time, I decided to approach things differently. We told her we would work around her schedule and play it by ear. I didn’t want her to feel obligated to spend every free moment with us just because we’d made the trip. I’m so glad I did, because the weekend turned out way better than I ever expected.
Learning to Give Her Space
When our daughter still lived at home, there were so many little things to manage and worry about.
- What time was she coming home?
- Could we count on her for dinner?
- Was she keeping up with everything she needed to do?
In my mind, these questions came from love. I wanted to help her avoid problems, stay safe, and make good decisions. But I began to realize that what felt like love to me could feel like a lack of trust to her.
I know that feeling well because my own father still expresses his love through worry and advice. I know he means well, but sometimes I just want him to trust that I can take care of myself. So why would my daughter feel any differently?
The funny thing is that she was already quite independent during her senior year of high school. She had strong opinions, made her own plans, and knew what she wanted. I think I was the one having trouble letting go. Somehow, I worried that if I stopped watching over everything, something would go wrong.
Since she left for college in August, I’ve been trying a different approach. I started sending her what I call “one-way texts.” Whenever I thought of her or missed her, I’d send her a message. No questions she needed to answer. No reminders of things she needed to do. And no expectation that she had to respond.
To my surprise, she almost always responded. Sometimes she even volunteered more about her life than I expected. Our conversations felt lighter, more loving, and less contentious. I was beginning to see what letting go could look like.
A Weekend Full of Surprises
We arrived at Parents Weekend with very few expectations, other than hugging her, feeding her, and seeing her perform with her K-pop dance group.
We started with a simple yogurt outing and an early dinner before her dance rehearsal. Then, to our surprise, she invited us to a salsa event that evening. We joined her for a dance lesson and later went to a salsa dance party.
The next day, after watching her perform, we figured she’d want to do her own thing. Instead, she spent more time with us. We ended up having both lunch and dinner together, and she even invited us to join her for swing dancing with a live band at the Madonna Inn. Even on Sunday, with plenty of homework waiting, she made time for brunch before we left.
I kept pinching myself. We’d come expecting very little of her time, and she kept finding ways to include us. She introduced us to her new friends, shared her interests, and genuinely seemed happy to have us around. What made it so special wasn’t just how much time we spent together. It was that she chose to spend that time with us.
Throughout the weekend, I found myself admiring her more and more. She had a clear sense of what interested her, what made her happy, and what didn’t. She wasn’t necessarily following what was popular or what everyone else was doing. She was making her own choices about her activities, studies, and future.
None of this was entirely new. She had always been independent-minded. But seeing her navigate college life on her own helped me realize just how much I could trust her to figure things out.
I felt so proud of her, not because she was doing everything I would have chosen, but because she was confidently making choices for herself. And I admit, I felt a little proud of us, too. After 18 years of raising her, it was wonderful to see the independent thinker she had become.
Perhaps the sweetest part was that we could simply tell her how proud we were and how much we loved her, without attaching advice or reminders. We could just enjoy being together.
A Different Kind of Closeness
By the time we said goodbye on Sunday, I felt almost giddy.
I actually caught myself worrying about feeling too happy. Growing up in an Asian family, I learned a superstition that when everything seems to be going especially well, you shouldn’t brag about it or get too comfortable. Something could always go wrong. I know it isn’t logical, but that little voice is still there.
Of course, one wonderful weekend doesn’t mean we’ll never disagree again. She still has plenty to learn, and I’ll still have moments when I need to resist jumping in with advice. But I don’t want to let possible future challenges take away from the happiness I feel right now.
When we dropped her off at college in August, I was learning how to say goodbye to the daughter who had lived with us for 18 years. I wasn’t sure what our relationship would look like with her away.
What I hadn’t expected was that giving her more space could actually bring us closer. She hasn’t suddenly become independent. I’m just finally learning to let go and show her that I trust her.
And this new version of being her mom feels surprisingly sweet.
Lei
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