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- I recently let my 15-year-old daughter go on a bus to New York City by herself.I'm glad she has the skills to be independent because I've been teaching her that for years.It hurts, though, because every new skill she develops means she's another step closer to leaving.
As I watched the bus to New York City pull away from the curb, I smiled and waved. I was trying to appear happy and content for my 15-year-old daughter, who had boarded the bus — alone — moments before.
She was on her way to visit a friend she had met at camp. I didn't want her to see that I was panicking inwardly. Was my daughter old enough to handle this adventure on her own? Would she know what to do if the bus broke down or another passenger started bothering her? Would I survive a week of worry when she was gone?
As the bus disappeared down the street, headed for one of the biggest cities in the world with my child on board, I knew I needed to trust that she was prepared to handle this huge leap of independence. But it still hurt to watch her go off into the world and know that she didn't need me.
As a parent, my job is to prepare my teen to live independently
When my daughter was born, tiny and helpless like all newborns, she needed me constantly. I was the one who fed her and kept her warm. As a toddler, my job was to keep her safe as she explored the world for the first time. I held her as she learned to swim and kissed her boo-boos when she fell.
In elementary school, she gained confidence away from home by walking to her friends' houses and to a market a few blocks from our home to get milk. In middle school, she started taking the bus to school on her own before branching out to taking the metro. We practiced how to handle getting lost and what to do if someone started following her or asked her to hand over her phone.
Later, as my daughter grew, my role shifted. I started pulling back on what I did for my daughter and started making sure she was able to do things for herself. She learned practical skills, such as laundry and cooking, how to manage her money, and the "street smarts" she needs to know when navigating new places.
Every new skill is a step toward her independence
Watching my daughter board the bus to New York City, I was filled with pride that she had already learned so many of the skills she would need to eventually live independently. While my daughter deserves most of the credit for growing into a mature teen who mostly makes good decisions, I took a moment to reflect on the role I had played in getting her to this point.
As the bus pulled away, I was starkly reminded that my primary purpose as a mother is to teach my daughter. If I do my job well, I will eventually teach her everything she needs to know to do the thing that will hurt me the most: move away from me and build a life of her own.
My daughter's solo bus ride to New York City reminded me that the bittersweet day she will leave home permanently is coming sooner rather than later. I didn't realize that watching her spread her wings would be so painful, especially because it's the very moment I've been working toward since I first held her in my arms.
Because I have been working toward getting my daughter ready to leave me since the moment she was born, I did not expect this step to cut so deeply. This simple trip to see a friend in the Big Apple showed me starkly that my daughter is ready to exist in the world on her own, without me by her side.
I now appreciate the time I have with her even more
Before I know it, I will be putting my daughter on a bus or a plane to send her to college. Then, helping her settle into her first home.
It might be somewhere much further from me than New York City. My daughter's time away from her family will likely start to stretch further and further.
Since my daughter returned home from New York, it seems like time is flying by even faster, and that she needs me even less than she did before.
Many parents are content knowing their child is ready to launch. Mine has already shown me that she is. However, until then, I will savor every moment she shares with me.
