I’ve been talking a lot over the last year about how my daughter was leaving for college and the effect that’s been having on me. I’ve been stressing a bit and thinking about what the departure of my child would mean for me. After all, If I’m not the dad of two little girls, then who am I? I’ve written about this journey at least twice (Moving Chairs and Why Vets Don’t Trust New Research), and I’ve spoken about it numerous times on podcasts.
As a result, regular readers of my column have had some questions recently. The main ones are, “Seriously though… How are you doing?” and “Do I need to call someone?”
I really appreciate people checking in. I think a lot of parents of younger kids are wondering what the experience of having one leave is actually like. People who have been through the experience enjoy thinking back on the transition and feeling validated by someone who is wrestling right now. Also, some people who know me are genuinely concerned about how hard I might be taking the additional quiet time in my house since college drop off happened two weeks ago.
The truth is that I’m doing very well. My life is rich and rewarding. I am extremely happy for my daughter and how much she’s loving the college experience, and I am grateful for the very small problems that I have to wrestle with.
It’s been a really interesting year in terms of change and transition for me. The Uncharted Veterinary Conference, which I started and run, is now turning 10 years old. I’m about to turn 50, and my daughter is living 10 hours away.
It would be a massive understatement to say I’ve spent time reflecting on how one chapter of our life ends and the next begins. This year has definitely been an emotional journey, but I’m happy to say there are three significant lessons I’ve learned that brought me to a very good and happy place.
The first lesson is that we all process things at different times. I like to think about the future and where things are going. I did my processing of what the change with my daughter leaving would mean pretty early on. When the trip north actually arrived, I had largely come to a place of acceptance. My wife… not so much.
On the day that we were moving our daughter into the dorms, we carried boxes up and helped her unpack as much as you can help someone move into a space, which is not very much. Then my daughter’s roommate arrived, and her family came with her. The dorm room was way too small for all of these people, so our family retreated into the hallway.
Here, my daughter gathered my wife and me together and spoke to us. She said, “What I would like to do now is go down to the car and do one last sweep to see if I forgot anything… and then I would like to say goodbye to you.”
I think that’s when my wife realized that this was actually happening. Outside, I gently guided her into the passenger seat. As I put the car in drive, I said, “I think this is good. This is how this should go.” Then I drove us both directly to Starbucks.
When we got there, not only did we buy our favorite drinks, but I said to her, “I’m having some pound cake because I want to eat my feelings. Would you like some?” My wife said yes, and with that, we began eating pound cake at 10 am and driving home.
As we rolled away, my emotional transition phase came to an end and my wife’s just began. I’m not saying that one way is better or worse than another. I had just thought a lot about this, and so when it actually came, I didn’t have anything new to consider. My wife was so focused on packing and preparing, she was consistently in a different emotional place from me.
Everybody processes things at a different time. That’s something we should remember about ourselves when we wonder why someone else is handling something so much more or less gracefully than we are. Maybe they’re just on a different schedule.
The second lesson is that we all choose how much we focus on the end of a chapter versus the new chapter that is beginning.
We all know what has happened in our life so far, and we deeply understand the previous life phase we’ve gone through. That’s why, when our life changes we quickly grasp what we are setting down and leaving behind, but we have no idea what we are picking up.
It’s easy to look at a future chapter in our life and ask, “What if this is bad? What if things don’t go well? What if all the stuff I’m worried about comes to pass?” That’s normal. But I think for every moment we spend thinking about what might be worse, we should make ourselves spend the same amount of time thinking about how it might be better. It’s the only fair way to treat ourselves.
The truth is, the next chapter is going to be what it’s going to be. If you’re a happy person now, you will probably be a happy person then. If you’re someone who finds interesting ways to fill time now, then you are probably going to find interesting ways to fill time then. If you get reward out of your work and out of the relationships that you have now, you will probably get reward out of your work and the relationships you will have in the next chapter. You should believe these things because you have a life track record that supports their likelihood.
We can be excited about a life chapter we don’t yet know much about. We just have to make the choice to feel that way. It’s much easier to mourn the closing of the previous chapter, but that only has so much value. The only real benefit of mourning what is coming to a close is deciding what made that chapter rich and wonderful, filing that away, and then using the lessons learned to make the next chapter as good as it can be. Then it’s time to get excited about what’s to come.
The final lesson is that we make a choice about what role we have in the story of our life.
At the beginning of the year, I felt like the story of my family was changing, and as my daughter left she was somehow taking the spotlight with her. It’s like if our family had a sit-com, the show was going to follow one character and the rest of the family would only be seen in reunion episodes. In my mind, I was no longer Harry Potter. I was Mrs. Weasley, who saw her kids go off to Hogwarts and have great adventures only to reappear in the story during school breaks.
I had some of the same feelings around my age and career. I’m not the young, ambitious, blank-slate doctor I used to be. Also, the world has changed in terms of what’s needed and possible in the vet profession. Life was doing things to me, and I kind of felt like the story was out of my control and I was a background actor in a natural disaster movie.
Since then, I’ve learned that we get to decide if we’re going to see ourselves as a supporting character or not. We get to choose if we’re going to be Mrs. Weasley, who fades into the background while Ron and Ginny Weasley become main characters. We get to decide if we’re going to be the nameless soldiers who serve and support Odysseus in the Odyssey, or if we are going to be Odysseus himself.
I am very happy for my daughter’s adventure and how it’s starting, but I’m continuing to write my own story. I’m not fading into the background. I’m not a supporting character who is being written out of the story.
I am making my own choices, and I am going forward in a meaningful way. As much as I love my kid, my story isn’t defined by her story. I want to be the hero who’s making the decisions that matter, who’s leading the charge, who’s picking when we travel, how we travel, what’s important, and what challenges we will take on. I’m not just an oarsman who’s hoping I don’t get eaten by a monster after fate has sent me down a dark tunnel.
In life, we get to decide whether we are the background characters who have challenges inflicted upon them, who cry out for the aid of a hero, or whether we ourselves are the hero. No, we can’t change the world, and we largely can’t change our environment, but if we want to be the main character, we have great autonomy and power in shaping our experience.
I may not be a great hero. I might not be Odysseus or Captain America or Captain Kirk or even Captain Crunch, but I am the main character of the story that I am making. My choices matter. The things that I want to do are being done, even inside a world that is changing around me.
And so that’s how I’m doing these days. I want to say thanks to everyone who has reached out and asked what the journey has been like and how I’ve been holding up since the college drop-off day. I am so fortunate to have people who care about me, and I’m grateful I get to go through these changes.
How wonderful is it to be able to live half a century on this world in relatively good health? How amazing is it to have a well-adjusted, kind, and lovely daughter going off to pursue her dreams? How incredible is it to create something that’s professionally deeply rewarding and have it last for 10 years, grow and evolve, and affect so many people positively?
I really have nothing to complain or to be sad about. I just feel blessed and happy that I get to go through this book chapter by chapter. I hope you’re enjoying (and starring in) the book that is your life.
