When the Nest Empties: The Quiet We Don’t Talk About
“It’s the weekend and I’m dreading the quiet. I used to despair at the mess, the chaos and the noise when my kids were at home, but now the last one has gone to university, and the house feels empty. I feel empty.”
These were the words of one of my coaching clients this week—shared with her approval. Her “I feel so empty” lingered in the room like a secret no one admits out loud. Because isn’t it our job as parents to raise our children so they can leave home and fly?
But what happens when they do—and we’re left with the silence? The need to be needed suddenly isn’t so visible, and that can be deeply unsettling.
As she spoke, I was reminded of when I was pregnant with my son, 14 years ago—the anticipation, the preparation, the joy of welcoming that tiny creature into our world. From then on, it was a whirlwind of stages: baby, toddler, nursery, then junior school choices, then senior school. We’ve crossed the GCSE hurdle and are already talking about sixth form—whether he’ll stay at his school, move to a local college, or (dare I say it) board at a sports school. Board? I’m not ready for him to leave so soon. Not ready for the quiet, the emptiness.
And then I was back. Back with my client. Back in the quiet, empty room.
I have friends who are embracing this transition, delighted by the freedom and rediscovery of the “I” that got lost in years of family life and responsibility. Others are living a different reality—the ricochet effect of children leaving, then returning, with everyone navigating the new dynamic of adults sharing a home again.
Life isn’t linear. There are always unexpected turns. But for my client, the hardest part was the shame—the belief that her sadness was somehow wrong, because this was all “normal.” A shame so hard to share with her partner, and certainly not something she wanted to burden her child with.
And so, our session began.
If any of this resonates with you—whether your children have left home, returned, or you’re somewhere in between—know that you’re not alone. This is a profound transition, and your feelings are valid.
