Latest news with #emptyNest
Times
18 hours ago
- Health
- Times
Should I crash my son's gap year?
An empty nest hits some parents harder than expected and Michelle Obama recently admitted to having therapy to deal with hers. I'm the same age as Mrs O, a 'nan-aged' empty-nester who had two sons in my late thirties and early forties. However, after the sudden accidental death of my elder son, Jackson, in September 2023, at the age of just 21, it's fair to say my nest is even emptier than the former first lady's. Emptier, indeed, than I ever imagined it could be. I haven't had therapy and found other ways to get through. Yet towards the end of 2024 I'd all but exhausted my coping strategies when my partner was suddenly diagnosed with cancer and rushed into surgery. To deal with yet more extreme stress I chose to retreat; to batten down the hatches to get through what promised to be another tough winter, at the end of the cruellest year of my life. If this wasn't tough enough, while navigating profound personal loss and illness I lost friendships too. Inevitably, as so many testing, unanticipated chapters of my life unfolded, not everybody in it was able to stay on the same page. Still, while in this peculiar holding pattern I had sufficient wherewithal to suggest to my 18-year-old son, Rider, that after the worst year of his life — coinciding with his A-levels — he should probably embark on his richly deserved gap year even sooner than he had planned. With my partner about to start three months of postoperative preventive chemotherapy and Rider's friends scattered to uni or on travels of their own, there was little to look forward to at home, in the House of Absolutely No Fun Whatsoever. The Bank of Mum and Dad — albeit separated and repartnered for many years — ensured Rider boarded a flight to Brisbane on December 5 last year. At the other end he was met by my Aussie half-brother, Jonny, sister-in-law, Felicity, and two of my three nephews, Dominic, 10, and Memphis, 14 months, whom I'd never even met myself. It had been 16 years since I'd last visited Australia (along with a six-year-old Jackson) and 12 years since my Australian family had visited me; the latest addition to their family was born exactly a month to the day after Jackson had died. Given that my Aussie-born, UK-based father died in 2019 and my Aussie mother (who returned to Australia 45 years ago) died in 2020, during Covid, what remained of my diminished gene pool was quite suddenly all on the other side of the world. While I was born in the UK and have lived the whole of my adult life here I felt an umbilical tug. The thing is, my earliest memories are of the year I spent in Oz, aged three, when my mother had a trial separation from my father and took me 'home' — she was a country girl, having grown up on an 80,000-acre sheep station on the New South Wales/Victoria border. My parents eventually reconciled (for a few years) and I returned from my free-range year roaming the Australian bush to the suburbs of London. Accessorised by a tan and a broad Aussie accent, I defaulted to 'steereo' for stereo (a word used more often in the 1960s/1970s than today!) for years. After his arrival I gave Rider long enough to get over the jet lag and used to the high-summer heat before I started begging for pictures and updates via WhatsApp … Poor kid! Previously he and his brother had navigated the usual blended family's revolving doors ('Make sure you phone Mum on Mother's Day … I'll buy the card for Father's Day …'). They had each other's backs; now, tragically, Rider faced a future navigating the demands of his separated-but-equally-bereaved parents all by himself. His father and I inevitably both want big pieces of him while recognising he needs a new space for himself, free from our neediness; inevitably a tough balancing act for all. In the meantime, however, thank God for WhatsApp. 'What do you think of Australia so far?!' 'Amazing. I love it!' 'Good to hear! Show me the view!' Rider turned his phone around, waving a 'tinny' at a sunset over the gum trees with a twinkling Southern Cross emerging in the early evening sky. I sighed. 'That looks fantastic. Have the best time. Love you loads …' It really was a visceral tug. Yet I knew it was for the best that Rider remained a long way away from home during yet another emotionally bleak winter. Shortly before he died Jackson said that 2023 had been 'the perfect summer'. And now, if only by default in the light of his death, 2023 had become my 'perfect summer' too. Yet, once again, summer — the metaphorical and the real one ahead — seemed very far away, while future 'perfect summers' felt impossibly out of reach. Meantime I battened down the hatches once more. As my partner embarked on three months of chemotherapy I wanted to be there for him. However, (if all went well) afterwards I also wanted to reclaim space for myself. • 35 of the best things to do in Australia As Rider celebrated Aussie Christmas in Queensland — barbecue, swimming, cricket, hitting Surfers Paradise bars and clubs with his eldest cousin, Jordan — I hatched a plan. By the time he'd travelled to Sydney for New Year before arriving in Melbourne, I knew what I needed to do. Though how would my son feel if I crashed his gap year? Have you ever joined your child on their gap year? Let us know in the comments below
Daily Mail
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
Kelly Ripa and Mark Consuelos reveal the NSFW dress code they've adopted ever since their kids moved out
and Mark Consuelos ' home has become a clothing-optional space ever since their children moved out. The parents of three revealed their life has become a 'freak show' following the departure of their youngest child as they offered words of comfort to actress Amanda Peet, whose eldest is now moving out for school. While Amanda, 53, began getting emotional at the thought of her child leaving, Kelly, 54, and Mark, 54, assured her there is a NSFW light at the end of the tunnel. 'The first one is like a bit of a shock,' Kelly explained on Monday's episode of Live with Kelly and Mark. 'Each one, the second one it's like no big deal, third one for 24 to 48 hours, you're gonna be like, "Oh my gosh, what have we done? Now it's just us." And then your entire life becomes nudity in the household wherever you want them.' 'It's a freak show,' Mark said. 'Total freak show', Kelly concurred. From A-list scandals and red carpet mishaps to exclusive pictures and viral moments, subscribe to the DailyMail's new Showbiz newsletter to stay in the loop. Kelly and Mark have three children together and their youngest, Joaquin Consuelos, 22, graduated from the University of Michigan this year. The couple also have son Michael Consuelos, 27, who graduated from NYU's Tisch School of the Arts in 2020, and daughter Lola Consuelos, 23, who is also a NYU graduate. Kelly and Mark previously revealed how difficult the adjustment was. 'We became empty nesters. We took our youngest son to college, we dropped him off,' Kelly said on a 2021 episode of her talk show. 'It was hard. It was really hard.' In a joint 2023 interview with People, Mark compared the feeling to 'a loss.' 'It was deep,' he said. 'It was like a loss.' 'When Joaquin left [for the University of Michigan], it was hard, the two of us and the dogs staring at each other, like "Well, now what?"' Kelly said. 'The first dinner I cooked, I'm not kidding, was for 12 people, and it was just the two of us. We sat there with this inordinate amount of food, neither one of us hungry at all,' she said. Kelly initially worried they wouldn't have enough to talk about. The couple dished on their newfound preference for nudity on Monday's episode of Live with Kelly and Mark 'We're empty nesters, oh no, what are we going to discuss?!' Kelly said of her initial thoughts. But the pain quickly faded: 'The first 48 hours we were leaning into the despair and then we really leaned into the positive side,' she added. 'We got over it!' As fans of the couple will know, the duo have never been shy about candidly discussing their sex life and the unique places they have gotten it on at. In September 2022, Kelly confessed on Watch What Happens Live that she and Mark have been intimate with each other in Andy Cohen's Fire Island rental home. 'That was a day trip!' Andy said in shock at the revelation. 'It was a rental!' Kelly insisted. 'I figured I wasn't desecrating anything that you own,' she added, leaving viewers jaw-dropped. In addition to Cohen's rental, Kelly admitted she and her beau had also had sex on boat, in a public bathroom and even on the set of All My Children. In 2020, the TV personality previously told Cohen that she had Mark had such a healthy sex life because they 'found each other at the right time in our lives.' She added that both her and Mark believe that 'experimentation is fun.'
Telegraph
22-05-2025
- Lifestyle
- Telegraph
‘I was relieved when he left': Is it bad to celebrate when your children move out?
The empty nest used to be a rite of passage for parents waving their children off into adulthood. It was meant to usher in a new era of freedom, travel and fun for midlifers, before grandchildren reclaimed their time. But life isn't quite so linear now. We're often emotionally closer to our children than previous generations were, many families communicate constantly via social media, and Gen X mums and dads often hang out with their teenagers simply because it's fun. So when they really go for good, it can be incredibly painful. As A-levels roll on and university shimmers in the distance, the prospect of the empty nest looms over parents. No more late-night chats when they crash in from the pub, no more lifts, no more beloved, familiar presence in the next bedroom. The actress Sadie Frost admitted earlier this year that she 'fell apart' when her offspring all left. She told Good Housekeeping's podcast, 'You get up, you make breakfast, you do the school run… When all that stopped, I fell apart. This… was my engine. This was what was driving me.' I felt the same when my only son left home for university, way back in 2011. I now refer to that period as 'my nervous breakdown years' – because not only were we extremely close, but I had had him aged 22, and had barely known adult life without him at the centre of my decisions. His security and happiness were what drove my work ethic for 18 years, and without him there, as Barbie sang, I had no idea what I had been made for. My marriage fell apart, I moved to a new city in search of answers and it took me several years to find a path forward. 'Even though it was difficult when [the four children] all left home, it made me embrace being on my own,' said Frost. 'I had to face that fear.' According to the Office for National Statistics, the average age for children to leave home is now 25. The Institute for Fiscal Studies has also found that since 2006, the number of adults aged 25-34 living at home has risen from 13 per cent to 18 per cent. But when they do finally leave, for some mothers, the wrench can be agonising. Toni Koppel, 65, a videographer from London, has sons aged 28 and 30. She says, 'I was so upset when my eldest left home to go to university in York. I thought I'd never be able to survive. We took him there and I was so sad all the way home,' she recalls. 'It was very hard to let go. He'd never lived away from home before. He'd never cooked anything himself, he was very shy. I was so worried about him. Even though his brother was still at home, the place felt empty.' Gradually, however, Koppel began to see an upside. 'I moped around for two weeks, then I slowly realised there was less washing to do, the fridge stayed fuller, there was less housework.' In the holidays, she adds, 'The house became bustling again with two young men arguing, leaving clothes and dirty plates everywhere. After a few days, I would want him to go back to uni!' After graduating, both her sons left home permanently. 'I realise now that the short university terms were training me for these years – and now it was my turn to thrive again,' says Koppel. 'I started volunteering at the Five Bells Computer Club that I now run, I started SugarSweet Video Productions and joined a Nordic walking class.' But while Koppel experienced an incremental introduction to the empty nest, Kari Roberts, 61, a coach and author from Hampshire, waved her eldest son off unexpectedly when he was just 16. 'He'd always wanted to go to the US to play basketball and he got the chance for a year when he was 16,' she explains. 'It was organised in a rush, and he flew out just two days after getting his GCSE results.' Initially, she felt 'a mixture of sadness and excitement, as he was achieving his dream'. But while away, he decided to stay and complete the two-year high-school diploma. 'He came home for a holiday. Taking him to the airport the second time, I was overcome with such sadness, I broke down in tears,' recalls Roberts. 'I knew deep down he would carry on living in the US. He went to university there, and is now married with a family in San Diego.' The sense of loss lasted years. 'I still have a surge of emotions when I think about it, and his age at the time definitely added to it. I felt like a bit of me was missing, but I knew I couldn't stop him as this had been his dream for years.' They now visit regularly, and Roberts's other grown children live within a 15-minute drive. 'But it's still hard. We couldn't meet his second child for two years because of lockdowns. I still miss him.' While most of us want happy independence for our children, some clearly find the transition easier than others – and some of that depends on their personalities, says single mother and binge eating coach Harriet Morris, 53, who lives in Shrewsbury. 'Louis was a confident, happy-go-lucky child right from the toddler years,' she says. 'I saw his independence as a good thing. Since he left for uni, I do have times when I feel wistful and see how fast the years have flown by,' she admits. 'I miss chatting to him. But I am overwhelmingly delighted that he has started to explore the world beyond sleepy old Shropshire. I do think my being a single parent played a part in my relief when he left – I'd been on my own for a whole decade, bringing up two lively boys.' Morris understands, she says, that sadness is part of letting go, 'but growing up seems to me to be about leaving your parents in stages'. There's still a tendency, however, to imagine that dads will merrily wave the kids off, while the mother falls apart – but that's not necessarily the case, says Michael Taylor*, 52, a quantity surveyor from Liverpool. 'Our daughter Natalie* left two years ago to go to university in London,' he says. 'She's suffered from anxiety in the past and she found the transition really challenging. She phoned home a lot, and my wife, Karen*, would spend hours reassuring her. We both missed her massively, partly because we knew she wasn't having a good time,' he explains. 'I tried to be strong for her and Karen, who was worrying about her constantly, but my own sadness felt like I was dragging a lead weight around,' Taylor adds. 'I felt I hadn't done a good enough job as her dad, that she wasn't ready for independence. Thankfully, by the Easter term, she'd met some like-minded girls and started to find her niche.'' But, he admits, 'It was a really tough time. I don't think Karen knows quite how hard I found it too, but as a dad, you feel you have to support everyone else. I'm just so glad she's found her path now.' Empty nesting, as Sadie Frost has discovered, can be a curious mix of freedom and fear, relief and regret. 'Missing your child, but knowing they're happy and independent, is a good problem to have, I think,' says Harriet Morris. All these years later, I can confirm that she's entirely correct.
Times
08-05-2025
- Health
- Times
Michelle Obama is smart to have therapy in her sixties
For many 60 is an age of reckoning. Women have gone through menopause, many couples are empty-nesting, or near to it, and God knows what the state of your relationship is. People realise, 'I've got a good 20 or so years left, if I'm lucky — what am I going to do with it? How am I going to give it meaning?' At last you have the opportunity to make it about you. But for that you have to explore who you are, what you can be and what you need. Therapy is about helping you with that. And in speaking publicly about seeing a therapist at 60, Michelle Obama has set a great example. It's the age by which we've shed a lot of
