- After my divorce, I became very involved in my daughters' lives.
- My oldest is heading to college this year, and I'm already feeling lonely.
"Congratulations!" I told my 18-year-old daughter, Milaan, when she called. I was elated that she'd been accepted to the college of her choice. After hanging up, my joy dissipated as I tried to accept her leaving.
There's a misconception that only mothers suffer from empty nest syndrome, but I learned dads get the leaving-for-college blues, too.
My divorce was like essential surgery — initially painful but ultimately liberating as I realized I could make the most of my kids' childhoods without the tension that permeated my married home. I was determined to make the most of my time with my two daughters.
It helped that my kids had established hobbies. For my youngest, Samara, it was soccer. Raised in England to Indian parents, I was already passionate about the sport and thrilled to spend my spare time trekking around the country to tournaments. Milaan was into books, another of my passions. I'd become accustomed to seeing her bedroom light on as she read at night before we chatted about her novel on the way to school the following day.
But when they both head off to college over the next two years, I will struggle with loneliness in their absence.
As my daughters aged, they grew farther apart from me
My daughters’school friends inevitably have taken priority. They are often gone for days — with sleepovers and trips to summer homes.
Despite the yawning craters of time that seemed to engulf me in their absence, I figured that, like the tide, they would eventually find their way back. But that hasn’t exactly been the case, and now they are both gearing up for college. Milaan is leaving in August, and Samara will start her college journey the following year, forcing me to fill up my own time. I have no desire to take up golf or anything middle-aged guys are supposed to do.
I’m not alone, either. "What are we gonna do? Working and paying the bills is boring," is a sentiment I hear around the soccer touchlines from dads whose lives revolve around their children's sports.
I’m already starting to feel the loneliness
Many men don't like to talk about loneliness or depression, especially when society has traditionally perceived our roles as stoic breadwinners. That’s probably why it’s more common to hear about mothers suffering from empty nest syndrome. But fathers, according to the Pew Research Center, have tripled the time they spend with their children since 1965, when parental roles were more clearly defined. Children’s absences hurt fathers, too.
"It's the loneliest feeling when they're gone," my sister-in-law, Sumeeta, said recently. “Just ask your brother.”
My two older brothers had gone through bad withdrawals when their kids left, making weeklong trips to stay in hotels near their children's colleges, taking them and their roommates out to dinner during their freshman years, and working remotely from their hotel rooms.
I can understand why they did. My daughters haven't left yet, and I'm already feeling lonely.
I'd even considered moving close to my daughter’s campus
When most down and lonely, I thought about moving close to Milaan’s campus. I even checked real estate sites for rentals and purchase prices, envisioning working remotely and having her over for dinner a few times a week.
But in doing so, I realized I would only prolong the inevitable. I must move on with my life, just as she must with hers.
I thought of myself at their age. I couldn't wait to be free of any oversight. I remember my parents' teary faces at Heathrow Airport when I decided to emigrate to America.
"You can always come home," they'd said as we embraced at the boarding gate. Years would pass before I did. In fact, they were the last people on my mind as my new life in New York evolved.
Now, with my mother elderly and widowed, I've spent more time with her than I have in years. Remote working has allowed me to contemplate returning to the UK to help with her care.
"I'd love to spend time with you in England during the summer," Milaan enthused when I mentioned my plans.
"Great!" I said, remembering my parents' words to me. "You've always got a place to call home.”