FreebirdReimagining the
Empty Nest

By Noelle Salmi

A few weeks before our youngest child left for college, I mused about becoming an “empty nester” at a summertime dinner party. Our friend Dan, already two years into this phase, sat up and barked: “Free bird!”

Hearing this alternate label, it struck me that Dan had, in fact, always been a free bird. His kids’ schedules had rarely affected his plans—like spending ten days at Burning Man every year, which meant regularly missing his kids’ first day of school. (Fortunately for Dan, his patient wife relished her parenting duties.)

The next thing that hit me was that, despite Dan’s tenuous relationship with responsibility, he had a good point. What is “empty nester” after all, but a made-up designation? Of course, the feelings of loss it implies are real. The kids have departed, leaving behind a void. Plenty of folks I know, Dan’s wife among them, miss the daily caregiving they found so fulfilling.

But in bellowing “Free bird!,” Dan was offering a different way to look at the situation—another way to define ourselves. And, given that “empty nester,” with its implications of loss, is such a downer of a descriptor, trying on a new self-image can’t hurt.

In fact, it can help. A lot. Research shows that reframing a situation can reduce depression and boost coping skills. “The stories that we tell ourselves shape how we feel,” Susan Wilkens, a San Francisco-based therapist told me. What would that reframe look like?

For one, the “empty nesting” analogy is, in a wildlife-y sense, nonsensical. Birds build nests for their eggs and the hatchlings that emerge from them. After the carefully reared birdies are ready, they flap their wings and take off. Once the feathered kiddos have left, adult birds don’t stay perched on the rim of their twiggy creation, worms dangling from their beaks, peering in longingly. The nest is no longer needed, and off the older birds soar.

Calling myself a “free bird” did not feel like a euphemism, but an opportunity.

Most parents, unlike said avians, will be staying in the same home—so the idea of an empty nest may feel more apt. In that case, remember that birds build nests solely for birdie-rearing. Your home was never just for raising offspring.

Home is where you kick off your shoes at the end of a work day, or maybe where you actually work, clad in comfy socks. It’s where you entertain guests, or get dolled up to be entertained elsewhere. In fact, it’s where you can now get romantic in the middle of the living room—should you have a partner. And window shades.

That is, your home also belongs to the non-mom or -dad side of you—that part of you that the “free bird” reframe nurtures. That’s key, since a major reason so many parents report struggling when a kid leaves home is that they had seen caregiving as their most important role. This even holds for some parents who work full-time.

So if a child’s departure hits at our self-worth, dispatching with the loaded “empty nester” tag is part of the healing process. It’s normal to miss our moppet and to cry, oceans of tears even, when they’ve left. But we’re still a whole person with a lot to give.

Calling myself a “free bird” did not feel like a euphemism, but an opportunity. Embracing the term meant focusing on what I can do, where I can go, and how I can explore my passions now that I’m not tethered to a school schedule or daily mama duties.

That opportunity can be unsettling. The adult relationships that were built around our kids’ activities may start to fray, our fellow free birds may flutter away, or our own non-parenting skills may feel rusty—leaving us searching for community or purpose. And yet, that uncertainty can teem with possibility.

A healthy reminder is that watching one’s child set out to make their way in the world is a privilege not all parents enjoy. “Free bird anxiety,” as Wilkens described it to me, is the worry that your child—whether for emotional, financial, or even physical reasons—won’t actually leave home.

There are so many dimensions to becoming a Freebird—yes, it’s one word from now on—and we’ll explore them here. I’d love to hear your thoughts on what Freebird topics matter to you. Contact me at noelle@seconds.global

Noelle Salmi is a writer, author, and frequent podcast guest on the subjects of travel and sustainability. She has written for Travel + Leisure, Monocle, USA Today, AFAR, Matador Network, Parenthood, and several other publications.