When I held my first newborn, I whispered, “All I want is for you to be happy.” It felt like the most generous wish I could make – no demands about who he should become, no rigid life plan to follow. Just happiness.
Decades later, I realized that was a much bigger expectation than I understood at the time. Now, I know that happiness is not a permanent state we can gift someone. It’s a shifting experience, often mixed in with stress, uncertainty, and change. By making happiness my single wish, I set the bar unreasonably high for my sons – and for myself as their mother.
A Life That Looked Like a Dream
I was lucky. My three sons grew into healthy, capable men. They found work that mattered to them, married, and had children. For a time, I thought we had all managed to outwit life’s hardships.
But life keeps moving. My oldest, now 50, is divorced with two preteens. Another son is navigating marriage struggles while raising a teen and 2 younger children. The third is under intense work stress. Their lives, like most lives in midlife, are complicated, demanding, and – at times – overwhelming.
The Mother’s Heart That Still Worries
I wish for them to feel secure, loved, and more at ease. I wish they could relax into their lives without so much tension. But I remind myself of two things:
This Is My Problem, Not Theirs
My worry doesn’t help them solve their problems, and my vision of “settled” might not be theirs at all.
They’re Exactly Where Life Puts You at This Stage
Midlife is full of reassessment, change, and unexpected detours. It’s when you take stock, let go of some dreams, and adjust to new realities.
Trusting Them to Find Their Way
It’s hard to watch from the sidelines, but I’m learning that my role now is not to remove their challenges but to trust their ability to meet them. To stand nearby, steady and available, without insisting they live out my version of happiness.
Practical Ways I’m Learning to Step Back
Listen More, Advise Less
When I’m tempted to offer solutions, I ask myself, “Did they ask for advice, or just for me to hear them?”
Remember the Arc
I think back to my own 50s – how many changes I navigated and how they shaped me. My sons deserve that same growth process.
Channel My Worry
Instead of replaying my concerns, I write them down and then list one small, positive thing I can do – like sending a note, making a meal, or offering to babysit.
The Quiet Courage of Letting Go
Letting go of the belief that I can – or should – ensure my children’s happiness may be my hardest act of mothering yet. But it’s also an act of love. It’s the same courage we call on when we release regrets, grudges, or perfectionism: we free them, and we free ourselves.
As mothers of adult children, we can’t make life easy for them. But we can make our love steady, and our faith in them unshakable. And sometimes, that’s the truest gift of all.
Let’s Have a Conversation:
What is one thing you have always wanted for your children? How has that turned out for you with time? What are some realistic expectations today?
