One day, out of nowhere, it hit me like a ton of bricks — my daughter would be graduating from high school . . . and I wasn’t ready to think about it.

The day I realized this, my daughter had seven hundred days of school left. That’s just under two years. It seemed like it’d be a long time, but the days passed like minutes and there was no time to waste. My daughter and I began meeting in the mornings before school and whenever else time allowed. Every day, I poured into her as much as I possibly could. We prayed, laughed, and cried together. I gave pep talks, became her cheerleader and biggest fan, while also inviting her into my world as a woman.

The first thing I did was fully reveal myself to her — warts and all. She had no idea who I really was and I wanted to change that. I pulled her in close so she could see my scars. I whispered in her ear so she could know my secrets. I took her to places I relished as a child, introduced her to old friends and to those who loved me dearly. One thing I was determined not to do was allow the walls of secrecy and mystery that existed between my mother and I to exist between us.  

The second thing I did was treat her like the young woman she was becoming. I knew that if I treated her like a child, she would act like one. Her new life would have to be carefully navigated or she would flail and flounder if I didn’t assist her growth process. However, I did make it abundantly clear that we’re not BFFs, girlfriends, or peers. I was still her mother; I simply chose to use my maternal influence in a way that was neither overbearing or unassertive.

The third thing I did was to teach her to have control over her “No.” Growing up, I vividly remember not being allowed to say “No” to anything my mother said or controlled. I didn’t want my daughter to be in a situation where she could be taken advantage of. To be honest, I became fearful that her tender, sensitive side would prevail and she would be used for being naive. Thankfully, she proved me dead wrong.

Unlike my daughter, I had a hard time speaking up and making choices for myself until I was much older. So, I would challenge my daughter with role play and questions so she could learn to exercise her “No” under pressure. This may sound harsh, but I wanted her to learn how to be honest and firm.

The fourth thing I did was let her know she could trust me. When we talked about hard subjects, I never shared anything with anyone else. This served us both well. I was intentional about being a safe place for her; and it forced me to seek healing in some of the traumatized places in my head and heart. I realized it helped her when she began to articulate herself with candor, poise, and confidence.

The fifth and final thing I did was to let her leave without a huge production of out-of-control emotions. I told her how much I truly loved her and how much I would miss her — but I also let her know how important it was for her to go. I let her know:

Your life here with me is ending. We will never be together like this again but, rest assured, our special and deep bond won’t ever change. Our home will always be your home but coming back will only be to visit because your new life is beyond here.

It is in everyone’s heart to grow up and leave home, just like my daughter who was ready and excited about going to college. I didn’t want to cripple my daughter or keep her tethered to me. I chose, instead, to let her soar, chart her own course, and live her own life.

It’s been thirteen years since our seven-hundred-day journey began and came to an end. The countless prayers for her continue to be answered. This new chapter of my sweet girl’s life commenced with graduating from college with a degree in nursing, buying her first home, meeting the man she loves, marrying him last fall, and preparing to start medical school this summer.

She is a phenomenal woman.