Hey Y’all,

As you’ve probably read by now, I’m releasing a book called When the House Gets Quiet. It’s written for empty-nesting moms who have spent years wrapping so much of their lives around their children and are now trying to rediscover who they are.

But I need to say something, and I want y’all to hear me clearly:

The house gets quiet for dads, too.

Although I wrote my book from the perspective of a mother, fathers can experience their own version of this transition. Their roles change. Their routines change. And they may find themselves trying to figure out who they are in this new season, too.

My AMAZING husband was the primary caregiver for our children during their formative years. He was home with them while I went to work. Our children were never in daycare. If they needed a babysitter, it was one of their aunts or grandmothers.

But most of the time, it was Dad.

He bathed them. Made breakfast. Helped with homework after school. Took care of them when they were sick. Protected them. Corrected them. Guided them. And taught them how to move through the world.

So to leave him out of the empty-nest conversation would be a miscarriage of justice.

This post is my celebration and recognition of the dads who also have to find their footing when their children leave home.

For years, my husband was right there to protect our children. Now they’re off building lives of their own. He still protects them, but differently. He has to lead and guide from a distance—and sometimes only when they allow him to.

I know that has to be an adjustment.

But I also see the pride.

He can look at the little people he taught to “act like they have some sense” in the bank and see young adults who can now walk into an office building knowing exactly how to conduct themselves.

He can watch his son, who plays the drums just like him, have the courage to join a band.

He can watch his daughter, who grew up seeing her father’s love for music, take her own love of journalism to her college campus as she begins exploring what it means to become a music journalist.

He gets to see pieces of what he poured into them showing up in the adults they are becoming.

And he is proud.

But pride doesn’t mean there isn’t an adjustment.

The house is definitely quieter now. His role in their lives has shifted. He’s still Dad. He’s still giving advice when asked and offering protection when he sees the need. But fatherhood looks different when the children you once cared for every day no longer need you in quite the same way.

And just like mothers, fathers have to figure out what that new role looks like.

We talk a lot about mothers losing part of their identity when their children leave home. We should make room for fathers in that conversation, too.

Because dads feel the quiet.

They feel the shift.

They have to find their footing in this new season, too.

So as we check on the moms whose houses have suddenly gotten quieter, let’s remember to check on Dad.

The house got quiet for him, too.

Until next time…
MUAH