Summer of Individuating
Wow. What a summer it has been already.
I feel so deeply in my heart what an expansive summer this has been for me, exponentially, and also for my two kids. I am so proud of all of us. So proud of my kids.
While it has been a summer of expansion and pushing edges, it has also clearly been a summer of individuating for all of us. We are a bond. The three of us. While it may not look like what everyone else's bonded nuclear families look like, we have our groove and we have our connection.
I can judge myself a lot for divorcing their dad and creating a more challenging lifestyle for them. No one likes switching houses. No one likes not having their parents under one roof. No one has liked all the years of holiday juggles, who do I spend my birthday with, where do I wake up this year on Christmas Day. It's terrible for kids, I'm not going to sugar coat that. But we, the three of us, have made it work. Have made our bond stronger.
I adapt to their rhythms as much as I can and as it evolves. Summers look like more brunches and midday meals together because everyone is waking at different times and going out more in the evenings. I love this about us. My kids know that I am steady, consistent and THERE. And with that, they know that they can explore and take risks and fall back on me when needed.
We did a lot of that already this summer.
I was in Bali, with my son and a friend. They were in Java, at uncle Mike’s favorite place, while I stayed in Bali. After Java they flew home alone, transferring planes in Taipei. A 24 hr international flight journey on his own. Check.
And while we were in Bali, my daughter was in Hawaii with her dad, came home, did her laundry, repacked her bag and flew alone across the country 2 days later to stay with her bestie in Rhode Island for 2 weeks. (And made herself at least one therapy appointment in between.) While on the east coast they road-tripped to New Hampshire and then the Hamptons for 4th of July.
I'm sorry, whaaaaat?! Talk about an amazing summer for all of us.
Annnnd, lots of individuating.
Lots of separation and doing things without mom. Sure, I was still always available by cell, and we navigated the time difference well. Because my daughter (13) still called me A LOT. She was working through a lot of big feelings while I was away. It was a lot for her. Me too. I got to see a glimpse into what life will be like for all of us in just a few short years. Which is such a rich and tender transition for us parents, especially us primary parents.
At one point while in Bali, I was navigating it all in my head. My daughter's travel day on the east coast. My son and his friend getting their Gojek to the airport in time for their international flight. All the while I was sipping strong, muddy Bali coffee from a French press, overlooking rice paddies and lush green, Mt. Agung half-hidden in the clouds. Waiting for my driver, for my own journey from the mountains back to the ocean cliffs.
I was just observing it all. But they were doing it all. And they did it. We did it.
That was my edge. Not the travel. Not the logistics. Letting go while they flew.
Watching instead of managing. Trusting instead of hovering. It's a different kind of hard.
And even though we were all doing separate adventures, in separate clouds, we grew closer. This is the practice, I think. Letting go, so they can come back.
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