I dreaded my only child going off to uni – here’s how I coped (and thrived)

For parents across the UK, their not-so-little baby will soon be off to university or college when the summer is over. Time has flown, and the nest will soon be empty – or at least, emptier than it was. Sociological research on the empty nest transition shows that it can be a time of both gain and loss for parents, especially those who have been hugely involved in the day to day lives of their children. Holly Tucker, 49, entrepreneur and founder of both Not on The High Street and Holly&Co, lives in Twickenham, London with her husband Frank. Before their only child Harry went off to study archeology at university three years ago, Holly would burst into tears at the very thought of him leaving. Now that she’s through the other side of it, she tells The i Paper the lessons she learnt, how she coped, and what advice she’d give to parents who will soon be dropping their child off at their university halls for the first time. I’ve wanted to be a mum since I was a young girl. I just knew it was the thing I was born to do. Then, when my only child applied to university, the thought of him going made me feel absolute desperation. I found it incredibly difficult. In the year leading up to it, I was just beside myself, always in tears. I was so worried about how I’d cope. Friends with two children say they’re lucky because when the first one goes, they’ve got the other one at home, and when the second one goes off, the first one’s back home. I only have one, so I didn’t have that, and so the fear was in having a totally empty household. And let’s be honest, for the first time in 20 years, I was going to be alone with my husband again. There was a nervousness around how we’d both reconnect after that length of time. Shorts At first, when my son began applying for courses, I wasn’t subtle about my feelings. I tried everything to get him to stay home with us. I had chats with him about how my husband and I didn’t go to university, about how he could do something “less ordinary” than go to university. I was saying things like: “I think you’ve got an entrepreneurial spirit, do you want me to help you create a business? We could do it together!” My son is really emotionally intelligent and he then had to sit me down and tell me that he’s different to me, he’s actually really interested in the subject he’d chosen, and the way I felt about small businesses was the way he felt about archaeology. It was clear he knew exactly what he wanted to do, and I had to agree from that point on that university was the right path for him. We took him to his new accommodation at university, helped him set up. He’d picked a dodgy flat, of course, but I filled it with nice rugs, and lamps (now there’s a coping mechanism if ever I saw one!). We spent a couple of hours together, then the moment came where we felt we should leave. I cried the whole way down the street and I went and had a very stiff drink with my husband. Then, this new state of being began… I won’t lie, at first it was really difficult. My husband was a stay-at-home dad since our son was five, so he’d done all the school runs, and it was very hard for him to lose that connection to our son. It was weeks, if not a couple of months, before we got used to what was happening. What helped was being in lots of contact with him, and then as we realised what a great time he was having, the sting of it all was taken out. Seeing your child so happy, you can’t be too sad. We then made the playroom into a gym, and – and I never thought I’d say something like this – my husband and I started working out together. We’d never done that before. We started moving lots more, trying to stave off any potential feeling of depression coming in, and we tried things like date nights, and found ourselves watching films together again, where nobody was bickering about what we were going to watch. We found ourselves really quite enjoying ourselves, holding hands, putting more effort into our relationship again. I was so worried our son being away would make us weaker, but it’s been the opposite. OK, so there wasn’t as much noise in the house without our son, but sometimes that’s a good thing. Harry, Holly’s son, with her and her husband Frank (Photo: Holly Tucker) And then before you know it, it’s the holidays – and they’re back. They’re only really gone for six months of the year, when you add it all up. And actually, the thing people don’t talk about very often is what it’s like when they’re home again. They left as a child post A-levels, and now you’ve got an adult in your life, and that can be a hard reinsertion into the family home. The way they want to be treated might have changed. They’ve been off doing their own thing, not needing to text their mum or dad when they’re on a night out, telling themselves that eating noodles for seven days a week is a perfectly balanced diet. Now, our son has finished his course, and will be living with us for another year while he does a master’s. We’ve had a chat about how it’ll all work. Children go away to uni and have this – hopefully – unbelievable experience, they grow into who they are, but when they come home, they’re in the same space as when they were just leaving school. I’d advise having a re-entry conversation, to stop any heartache and arguments. I imagine our son felt once he was home, his wings were being clipped, but we didn’t mean to do that, it’s just we reverted to our former parental mode. So we sat down and said: “OK, we’re three adults here, we’re sort of like flatmates, but sort of not… how to we all want to exist together? What are the rules? And where’s the freedom you need?” If I could go back in time and say anything to that woman who wanted to kidnap her own son and take him to the middle of nowhere so he could never leave her, I’d say: “It’s really not so bad in the end”. It may work out to be a good thing! Yes, it is a grief, and it’s not to be tucked away. No, you’re not being silly, it’s a really hard thing to go through. But just know, you can get through it and you might even enjoy it. Fearing them leaving? My top three tips Worried about them getting ill when you’re not there? Pack them a little “safety chest” with first aid bits, and anything else you think they might need. My son didn’t touch his, but I felt glad I’d sent him off with it. Have a conversation with them about how this is a huge, exciting adventure, but that it’s not cool for them not to contact you regularly, especially at first, and that they’ve got to consider you as well. They have emotional intelligence – so treat them that way. Call up friends who have been through it, allow them to hear your tears and what you’re scared about. Don’t keep it in! It’s important to voice it. Holly Tucker is founder of Holly&Co, a marketplace for independent UK artists and makers