Blog

A mantra for college kids and especially their parents. 

The most helpful phase in the college process is “you can do hard things”. There is a sense that once the grades are completed, exams are done, applications are submitted and schools chosen, that whew – we made it! However in many ways, the hard part is just beginning. 

Science has shown that challenging yourself and confronting failure and difficult times (as long as not traumatic) promote brain plasticity and make us stronger. If we can develop a growth mindset, it brings with it a confidence that we have and can overcome hard things. 

Learning to live in a dorm room with a stranger, balancing a very open schedule, getting used to being a small fish in a large pond, missing family and pets and the comforts of home, and trying to find “our people” are all hard things. The first 6 weeks of college is particularly difficult in this regard and kids often have a sense of FOMO seeing their peers on Instagram curating their posts to show them living their best lives. There is pressure to find a group as close as their high school friends; or if they did not have a group in high school, this was meant to be my time for a fresh start. It is easy in this transitional time to adulthood to feel these are supposed to be the best years of my life. You are not alone – these years are hard, deepening, enlightening, independent, informing, challenging and triumphant. But rarely all at once, and rarely in a balance that feels comfortable. The phrase “you can do hard things” is to remind you that it is ok to live in the uncomfortable. Mindfulness reminds us that just by saying and acknowledging that uncomfortable feeling we begin to diffuse it and take away its power – particularly if we can say, “I am uncomfortable now.”

For parents, this reminder can be particularly hard – it feels uncomfortable at minimum to see your child struggle or hear them say they are unhappy, or cry, or talk about transferring schools in those first few weeks. What we as parents can do is acknowledge this is hard, and reassure them that this is common for many entering college, and let them know you believe in them – they can do hard things. 

It is important to help them find the solutions for themselves – i.e. have they been to the professor about an academic struggle, have they joined a club to meet people with common interests, have they found a happy place on campus to go to to recharge, have they done something they typically think of as fun, or have they gone to student mental health for support? Almost always the answers to our children’s challenges lie within them, and if they don’t, it is their time to struggle to find them. When we give our children all the answers and suggestions it takes away their power and sense of accomplishment and may even inadvertently give them something to push back or rebel against, making an otherwise good suggestion further out of reach. It is painful and at the very least uncomfortable to witness their loneliness, lack of connection, their upset or struggle. But you can do hard things too. Remember that often a child will reach out to you crying or upset and the act of doing so will relieve some anxiety and then they go off on their merry way while you are left holding their feelings.

If you are seriously concerned or see red flags or self-harm, then it is time to intervene and receive mental health support; otherwise, you and they can do hard things, and you will both grow that muscle while your child is away.  

I have long been fascinated with the idea of bearing witness. In the spiritual sense, it is to testify or proclaim beliefs that feel almost too overwhelming not to share, or even bear. But for the purpose of this piece, I think of it as a participatory person who was part of your shared experience and holds your memories with you and even for you. Witnesses play a valuable role in our lives, elevating our experience and sometimes adding to our shame or pain if there are things we would rather go unseen. But witnesses can also share our burden, while simultaneously making our experiences more based in reality (“you saw that, right?”). 

One aspect of grieving that is particularly difficult is that we lose a witness, not a casual outside observer but someone who was able to bear witness with us as we experienced triumphs and tragedies, joys, laughter, and moving moments. When my mother died a few years ago, I was struck by the sense that many memories of my childhood, of my infant toddler/self, would be lost with the passing of my special witness. Sibling loss can be particularly hard for that reason since the perspective of the witness is similar to your own and can be called upon to help you remember what might have been forgotten. 

To have a witness is to be seen – it is to take whatever otherwise solitary experience might be distorted or fade with time and make it “real.” It is important in our lives to find a witness to help hold us, bear our sorrow, cheer us on, experience our growth. It does not have to be a family member or a partner; it can be a friend, counselor, mentor, colleague or teacher. As we busily hurry through our harried and sometimes isolated lives, it can be helpful to ask who is your witness and who are you willing to show up for and bear witness to. Bearing witness deepens our lives, as we feel seen and connected to, in our shared experience.

My husband’s grandmother, Mama, as she was called by all, had an amazing expression that summed up what so many of us feel today. When she was feeling “off” – lonely, bored or grumpy – she would say, “I just can’t find a place for myself.”

It was so simple yet so powerful, from “where do I fit in at this party” to “why can’t I seem to settle” to “who is looking out for me now,” it had multiple meanings. Many of us today when we experience the feeling of “I just can’t find a place for myselves” pick up our phones. We search for something that will make us feel connected or make us “feel” anything. We have all gotten far away from the ability to remain “in the feeling.” 

“I just can’t find a place for myself” is a hard and uncomfortable feeling and takes bravery to ask why. The road to finding a place for ourselves starts with that simple statement and acknowledgement – I am uncomfortable now. Pausing to reflect on the moment gives you the ability to try to “name” the feeling, the first step in addressing it. 

One time a good Mom friend said to me, do you ever feel like just getting in the car and driving to Mexico? 

At the time I was somewhat taken aback. I was pretty happy with our family dynamic and it was not a desire that I felt at that moment. Soon thereafter, driving to Mexico sounded very appealing and became my go-to euphemism for leaving it all behind. 

As mothers we are the hub of the wheel. Every emotional aspect of family life seems to connect to us, even when we have a contributing partner and a happy home life. It feels like something we cannot or are not permitted to escape. For my friend, her home life, albeit loving, had waylaid her career and passions and kept her doing and feeling less than she was capable of. For me, I carried my family’s strong emotions like a mantel on my shoulders weighing me down. 

So I worked hard to find a way to get to Mexico. For me that included a weekly yoga class where no one counted on me for dinner or company; closing the door to read for a hour; my own therapy; walks with friends; maintaining an exercise routine; sitting in my car after my long commute for 10 minutes to decompress from the heaviness of my day; and putting certain tasks on my spouse’s plate that I tried my best not to ask about or follow up with. 

It was hard. These things are not easy to do and some require a bit more support than others, but all caregivers need a drive to Mexico. My hope for you is you find a way – small or large – to make that happen for yourself.