New Parenting Level Unlocked

This weekend, I was chatting with my almost-20-year-old when he mentioned that he’s planning to go backpacking with friends next summer - somewhere out west. We talked about where they might go, who’s tagging along, and then I asked how much he actually knew about backpacking.

“Not much,” he said. “But one of the guys going knows a lot.”

I asked a few more questions- ones that, to a young adult, probably sounded like an interrogation even though I tried to keep my tone casual. He answered them patiently enough and promised he’d do some research to be prepared. Still, I could tell he was irritated, just like I would have been at that age when my parents asked about a decision I'd made.

Then came the question:
“So... are you going to let me go?”

I laughed a little. “You’ll be twenty. You can do whatever you want with your life. I just want you to be prepared.”

I reminded him that I wasn’t trying to rain on his parade. However... he’s not asking to spend a week in a cabin or relax at the beach - he’s talking about a real adventure, one that comes with risks if they’re not ready. And I told him that he’s old enough to make his own decisions, and he should absolutely take opportunities like this. Travel. Explore. Do everything he can before life gets too busy to do it so freely.

Because I want him to go.
I want him to have every adventure, to experience every ounce of life.

But as a parent, this is a whole new level of letting go - sending them out into the world and just hoping you’ve prepared them enough to come home safely.

We can’t wrap them in bubble wrap forever. We shouldn’t even try.

It’s the bumps, bruises, and mistakes that teach the lessons - the built-in reminders of safety, judgment, and growth. Those moments form the foundation of who they become and how they navigate the world.

So yes, I want him to adventure. I want him to live boldly, love deeply, and collect stories that will someday make him smile when he’s my age.

But I’ll still worry - because that’s what moms do. I’ll hold my breath until this adventure ends safely and exhale just in time for the next one to begin. And I hope I spend the rest of my life worrying while he's off living some of the greatest adventures he could ever experience with friends who make life worth living.