My daughter is an only child, so our relationship is supremely precious to me. Admittedly, I helicoptered my way through the first 18 years of her life, likely inserting myself a little too much at times. Now that she’s in college, I’m shifting the parenting balance to honor her independence. In the three years since she’s gone away to school, I’ve learned new ways to support her at this stage of life.
I need to fully trust her instincts
My daughter is smart and capable, and wants me to trust her. I spent 18 years teaching her to listen to her gut and she’s shown good judgment. Now it’s time for her to put the lessons she learned into practice and enjoy the ride — literally.
She’s a lot like me, strong and independent. I travel solo internationally and she wants to drive across the US after graduation. While I’ll always worry about her, I plan to support her road trip, offering a graduation gift of safe hotel rooms and roadside assistance as she drives from New Jersey to California. I’m looking forward to watching her head off into the world with confidence.
Advice is welcome — when it’s solicited
After two decades of mothering, it has been difficult to reimagine my parenting role. She still wants advice on tricky situations, but not always. Now, she prefers to ask for it, particularly in areas where I have expertise. My thoughts on how to navigate jobs, relationships with professors, and car maintenance always seem welcome.
I also started being a bit more cautious about how and when I share my opinions. For example, she likes tattoos, I don’t. Telling her I don’t like them isn’t going to stop her from getting more ink. But if and when she wants to know whether a new one looks infected, I’m happy to take a look and send her to urgent care.
She can make her own decisions
My daughter wants autonomy and I’m proud of the (mostly) level-headed, compassionate decisions she makes.
I haven’t helped her register for college classes, apply for scholarships, or manage her housing. This is her college experience, not mine. I do ask about her grades from time to time, but I don’t check them. I don’t even know how to log onto the college website. She has learned valuable lessons from decisions she’s made on her own — good and bad and I’m there to cheer her on.
I don’t coddle her, but I do Doordash ramen noodles and OJ when she’s sick
When she’s sick, she still wants her mom. Though I’m not physically there by her side, modern delivery services like Doordash allow me to send care packages of the food she craves, meds, treats, and Kleenex. These caregiving gestures make us both feel better.
I accept that she will do things I don’t approve of
As a college student in the 1980s, I smoked Marlboro Lights, drank $2 pitchers of beer at Ricks Bar, skipped class, and flirted with boys I knew weren’t good for me. I never told my mom — we didn’t have that kind of relationship. I’m grateful my daughter trusts me enough to tell me what she’s up to, even when she knows I won’t like it.
That’s not to say I sanction dangerous behavior. I’m still her mom and I speak up when I need to. But I acknowledge that college is a time of exploration and experimentation and I’d rather know what she’s doing than make her feel like she has to hide it.
I know that location apps are a privilege, not a spy tactic
My daughter and I use the Find My feature to see each other’s locations on our phones and I don’t abuse that privilege. While I do sometimes check to see if she’s made it home after an evening out, I don’t quiz her if I don’t recognize her location. Except for that one time it looked like she was in a river. Turns out a friend’s apartment backs up to the waterway, but that was a little too close for my comfort.
Asking my daughter what type of support is most helpful to her at this life stage has strengthened our relationship. I’ll always be her mom but I’m enjoying her adult company and look forward to a lifetime as best friends.
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