(And I’m Learning to Paint My Next Chapter)
I thought I was ready.
I wasn’t.
But here’s the truth: I’m learning how to fly too.
Before I became a mom, I was sure of two things:
- I was going to raise my kids using creative alternatives to the word “no.”
- I was going to prepare them to fly the nest by the time they turned 18 — independent, confident, and ready for the world.
Well… I failed pretty spectacularly at the first.
Turns out “we’ll see” is just a slow, passive-aggressive no.
But the second? I nailed it.
At least two out of three so far.
And that — it turns out — is where the real story begins.
When Nick said yes to an academic and athletic opportunity in the U.S., I was beyond proud.
But also?
Sad.
Really sad.
Nothing had prepared me for what it would feel like to leave him behind on a different continent.
A year later, Gina left for university in the Netherlands.
I’d built the muscle by then. I knew the drill.
It still hurt — but at least the ache was familiar.
And the fact that she moved to my home country made it feel a little less far away.
Thank God for WhatsApp, FaceTime, Find My iPhone…
…and of course Joey — still home, still loud, still spreading teenage energy through the house.
Here’s what no one tells you about the empty nest:
Yes, there’s more freedom.
Less laundry. Less driving. Fewer groceries. More quiet.
But then come the questions:
“Now what?”
“Who am I outside of this role I’ve lived in for so long?”
“Am I too late to start something new?”
They call it Empty Nest Syndrome, but honestly?
It feels more like an identity shift.
It’s losing a role and realizing you now have to write a new one.
Only now — it’s my turn to fly.
This week, both Nick and Gina are coming home.
The nest will be full again — for a little while.
And I’ll soak up every second.
And when they leave again?
I’ll keep going.
Keep growing.
Keep saying YES to life.
Because once I made peace with the silence,
I realized the space wasn’t empty at all.
I’d been handed a blank canvas.
And I’m ready for the next chapter.
If you’re standing at that same crossroads —
Somewhere between grief and possibility —
I see you.
You’re not alone.
And this moment right here?
It could be the beginning of something extraordinary.
→ Say YES to Life Again
Or reach out directly: marielle@mindbreeze.ae
