When Your Child Decides to Move Out...

"Through a Mum’s Eyes"

I knew this day would come eventually, the day my daughter decided to leave home and carve out her own space. It’s what we raise them for, isn’t it? To grow, to find independence, to create a life that’s theirs.

But here’s the truth no one tells you: knowing it’s coming doesn’t make it any easier.

When she told me she’d decided to move out, my heart did two things at once: it swelled with pride and sank with worry.

Pride, because despite everything she’s faced, the storms, the struggles, the chaos that has sometimes threatened to pull her under, she’s still here, still pushing forward, wanting more from life.

Worry, because I know how big changes can rattle her world. How even little shifts in routine can feel overwhelming, let alone something as huge as setting up home somewhere new.

The Extra Layer of Fear

This move is different. She’s not just leaving home; she’s moving in with her girlfriend.

And this is where my emotions tangle themselves into knots. It’s not about who she’s moving in with, it’s more about what this represents. A whole new chapter, with its own joys, challenges, and unknowns.

I see how much she cares for her girlfriend, and I want nothing more than for this next step to bring her happiness and stability. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. Scared of what happens if it doesn’t work out. Scared of how heartbreak, pressure, or conflict could impact her mental health. Scared, simply, because I’m her mum and when you’ve spent years holding someone through storms, letting go feels like stepping off a cliff and hoping they’ve learnt to fly.

The “What Ifs” That Keep Me Awake

Will she cope with the responsibilities and routines?
Will she feel safe enough to ask for help if she needs it?
Will she remember she doesn’t have to face every challenge on her own?

I catch myself spiralling into all the “what ifs”, all the things I can’t control and then I breathe. Slowly. Deeply. I remind myself that my job isn’t to prevent her from falling. It’s to remind her she can get back up, and that I’ll always be here when she needs a soft place to land.

Letting Go Without Stepping Away

This part is hard. It’s the daily balancing act between holding on and letting go. Trusting her decisions while keeping the door open and be ready for whatever comes next.

Moving out doesn’t mean moving on from me.
And her wanting independence doesn’t mean she doesn’t still need me.

It just means my role is changing. Less hands-on, more watching from the sidelines. Less steering, more standing back and cheering her on even when I’m quietly terrified inside.

For Any Mum Reading This…

If your child is taking big steps towards independence and you’re left with a tangled mix of pride, fear, and uncertainty, you’re not alone. It’s okay to hold all those feelings at once. It doesn’t make you overprotective or controlling, it makes you human.

Our children’s journey into adulthood isn’t straightforward, especially when mental health struggles are part of the picture. There will be bumps, setbacks, and unexpected twists. But our role doesn’t end when they step out of the door. It simply shifts.

We become the lighthouse; steady, visible, guiding them back when the sea gets rough.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.

Your Calm in the Chaos,

Sami xx