It’s a Saturday in November. I am sitting here in a quirky café, across from my lovely daughter who is writing an essay for college, and I’m trying to come up with a catchy way to talk about myself and why I’m doing this whole blog thing.

Why bird launcher?

Well, I guess one of the main reasons is exactly the fact that my daughter is at college, half a day’s travel from home. My days as a full-time mum came to an end about two years ago. They had already been getting a lot less busy over the last years, but with the laundry and the cooking, the sleep-overs and the house full of her friends at weekends, and then the frenzy before the Bac, applying to colleges and preparing for the BIG MOVE, mum life didn’t really feel that different. 

Identity shift

But then, all of a sudden, her room was empty, and so was the laundry basket (well, almost). I have a really wonderful circle of close women friends, I love to read. I had discovered a whole new universe in personal development and human behaviour change while looking desperately for tools to help me cope with my parents getting old and all that entails, especially when you don’t live close. I had already started doing some coaching for young people. And yet. It felt like a ginormous chunk of my identity had suddenly disappeared. I felt somehow unsettled. And honestly? A bit lost.

Unfinished business

There was that nagging sense of unfinished business, of potential left unexplored, a calling unanswered, dreams unfulfilled. And I realized I was not alone! This whole empty nest topic was actually A THING! 

Through Instagram (hurrah for modern technology!!!), I found so many like-minded women in spaces like @never_empty_nest, @momsofbigs, @heymom.co – to just name a few – who are very open and vulnerable about how this huge shift affects our lives and about the wide range of often contradicting emotions swirling around in our minds, hearts and bodies.

Uplifting community

I can’t tell you how comforting that felt. I felt seen. I felt heard. And I knew there was no reason to feel silly or less than. On the contrary. There was and is so much power in all these women and mums lifting each other up, commenting “You got this, mama!” on a particularly sad post of a new bird launcher. A big, huge THANK YOU at this point to all you fellow mums, in real life and out there in the digital universe, who have lifted me up in the past two years.

And you know what’s remarkable? I had always had the impression with the mums around me, e.g. in my daughter’s class, that the so-called empty-nest syndrome was not a thing, that they were strong women, many of them working full-time in addition to running the whole family show, and that I was just this particularly emotional, overly attached stay-at-home mum who now felt “a bit lost”.

Shared experience

But NO! As soon as I opened up about my own struggles and started talking about the elephant in the room – that is this sudden loss of part of my identity, and about missing my favourite person so much it sometimes physically hurts – those seemingly unfazed women let their guard down, too. They dared to admit that they missed the daily phone call from their daughter on her way home from school or their son’s grumpy (or should I say cool?) monosyllabic answers in the mama-taxi ride to hockey practice. They felt the same kind of loss as I did, despite their busy schedule with no work-life balance to speak of. 

And that’s when I realized: they were as relieved as I was to be able to talk about their feelings and not feel judged. They appreciated being lifted up just as much as I did. This shift in identity hits hard, no matter how many hats a woman wears in addition to her mum hat. And it hits hard with every bird that flies the nest, no matter how many birds there were in the first place. 

As a mum, you are always there with your arms and your heart wide open. You are the nest-maker, the carer, the psychologist, the consultant, the cook and favourite-snack provider, the organizer, the driver, the nurse, … the whatever-they-need. So, when the nest is empty, you are basically out of a job. That’s the sad and unsettling part.

From lost to empowered

However, when I read a post about a woman refusing to call herself an empty-nester but identifying as a bird launcher instead, it clicked for me. My perspective changed and I felt empowered. Yes, the nest is empty now, but it stays where it is and it can continue to be a welcoming home-base for the bird when the wings get a bit tired from all the adventures out there. And yes, I have done this. We as parents have succeeded. Or, as my dear friend of over 18 years, Yumi, wrote to me in a Whatsapp message from Japan this afternoon: “We did very well, Elke.” Which goes to show, this THING moves so many of us mums, everywhere.

I have had a huge part in preparing this little bird for the big world out there, in teaching it to take care of its wings and teaching it how to fly. I have launched my little bird and now get to watch it soar, my heart filled with pride and joy and so much love. And a little sadness. But that’s ok. We can hold both.

Hence the bird launcher.

I think I’ll pause here for now. 

If my story resonates with you, you can read about “Why a blog?” in my next post.

Thanks again for being here! I would love to hear about your experiences as a bird launcher – or a launched bird! If you feel like sharing you can do so at the bottom of the page.