Estimated reading time: 13 minutes
Key Takeaways
- The transition to college brings emotional challenges, particularly for parents facing the reality of letting go.
- Buying tuition insurance can safeguard against unexpected setbacks, especially concerning mental health.
- Letting go is harder than giving birth; it’s a continuous process that parents must navigate throughout their children’s lives.
- Despite the pain, watching children grow into their own person is both beautiful and bittersweet.
- As parents, our ultimate goal is to launch our children into independence, knowing it will break our hearts yet fill us with pride.
🚨 FEATURED INSIGHT
This is the hardest thing you will ever do as a parent. And it’s also the most beautiful. You’re not prepared for either.
Good morning, ladies and gentlemen (but I’m mostly talking to you, moms).
Here, come in closer. It’s “Oh Shit August,” and I’m here to tell you: buckle in for a bumpy ride, especially if your kids are leaving for college. I’m not going to lie to you – this part really sucks. Like it really sucks. And it doesn’t always go according to plan. In fact, it never does. If one thing goes right, you can bet three are going to go wrong. You’re already going to be an emotional mess, and if you’re like me, there will be some devastatingly powerful panic attacks. I know because I just took a Xanax to stop today’s.
You’re Not Alone In This Ocean
You may have never been through a true “Oh Shit It’s August” at this level, but if you have children, you’ve been in this ocean before – just not the same boat. So ladies and gentlemen: KEEP SWIMMING. If you don’t, you’re all going to drown.
This makes May (or Maycember, if you’re juggling multiple milestones) seem like a holiday in Turks and Caicos. Don’t laugh – this isn’t hyperbole. This part hurts worse than my pitocin-induced, no-pain-medication Bella birth. If you’ve been here from the beginning, you know.
Today is Wednesday, August 12, 2026. I’ve been in denial that my youngest is leaving all summer. Because, lucky for me, I’ve only got a first and a last, so every time we do any milestone, it’s fucking GINORMOUS. Our recovery time between girls is only two years. Bella took a gap year (the lore I’ve got for you will have to wait for the next post because OMG), and now it’s Gabi’s turn. I only got a year to recover. Wait! What?
@deborahacruz The only thing you need to know but no one ever tells you about college drop off. Just dropped my daughter off at college and it was not what I expected! Nobody warned me. I cried my face off. #genz #collegedropoff #college #momlife #genx #momsoftiktok #momsover30 #bestgenerationever #girlmom #collegirl #fypシ゚viral #fyp #thetruthaboutmotherhood
♬ original sound – Deborah
Letting go is hard for them and for us. Truly, probably harder for us – but still fucking hard for them.
Remember, they are still practically brand new in the world. And for as much as our beloved Gen Z babies would like to believe they know everything, they mostly don’t know shit about the real human things yet. The things you have to experience to believe. Those are the unknowns that knock us off balance when we least expect them. We can’t prepare mentally for these situations. Sometimes they come back. So again – buy the insurance. NO, this is not an insurance-sponsored post. This is a one-mom-to-another-mom cautionary tale that will save you thousands of dollars. Learn from my mistakes, friends. I’m no gatekeeper.
💡 REAL TALK: THIS AUGUST REALITY
| What’s Going On | What’s Happening |
|---|---|
| What I’m experiencing: | Third year doing this dance |
| My daughters: | Both attending same university ✓ |
| Current emotional state: | Xanax-dependent and spiraling |
| What I know: | This is the hardest part (so far) of being a parent |
| What I’m holding onto: | The beauty of watching them become themselves |
Harder Than Giving Birth
But let me explain something, aside from all the jokes.
You’ve all been here for nearly all of my children’s lives. You’ve been through a lot with us. Well, I’m here to tell you: this part – this is harder than giving birth. Letting go from your body is so much easier than letting go from your arms. Because we know this is the hardest part of our story. Just remember, it’s one of the hardest but most fulfilling parts of theirs.
The Brutal Honesty
I’m not saying this to scare you. I’m telling you this to prepare you. Get your Xanax now. Maybe you’ll be one of those parent-child combos who just gets it right and everything’s easy. I hope you are. I hope every single one of you goes to drop off and it’s uneventful – everybody good with just a tinge of melancholy at parting ways.
But for others, it’s not going to be so predictable or soft.
It’s going to be full-on feral. You’ll feel like you all just spent a week in the ring with some indestructible MMA fighter. You’ll be weak, weary, and feel like you’ve had your ass kicked. You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. And you will most definitely be getting your ass kicked. You’ll come out the other end bruised – physically and emotionally.
I’m not sugar-coating it: IT’S REALLY FUCKING HARD. It’s the hardest part (so far) of being a parent.
I just have to keep reminding myself that the price I pay for the privilege of raising my girls – and all of this magical, unconditional love I get to give and receive – is worth the panic attacks, the tears, and the absolute beating my mama heart takes in this letting-go process.
But I’ve been here before. It’s Gabi’s first time. It was Bella’s first time. We’re all experiencing it differently – but the weight of this milestone is like a boulder on your heart. At times, it feels like it will crush us all. But it won’t. It just feels that way.
Just keep reminding yourself: this is not a punishment. This is what you and they’ve worked all this time for – to feel the least afraid to let the other one go (even if it’s just physically, temporarily). We know, as parents, that this is where they become them fully. Our job is to get out of the way. Stand on the sidelines and show them we are still there – even when we’re not actually there.
⚠️ LESSON FROM YEAR ONE: BUY THE TUITION INSURANCE
This single decision saved me thousands of dollars and endless stress.
I’ve been trying to stay strong. This is my third year doing this dance. The first year, I learned to always buy the tuition insurance. Write that part down – it’s only $120, but heaven forbid your child experiences something and realizes it’s too much for them to handle for whatever reason.
There are a lot of kids with mental health diagnoses these days (there are a lot of adults too – probably should be more). Sometimes the mental health distress is more than a temporary hiccup, or the distance is just not worth the toll on your child’s emotional and mental well-being. The bottom line is: as parents, we should always be trying to do what’s best for our children – no matter if it looks like what you expected or completely out of character and unexpected.
Remember, the goal has never changed since we began this journey into motherhood: do your best, love them unconditionally, and raise good human beings. There is no right way to be a parent as long as you’re doing what is best for you and your child.
The Summer of Everything
I think I did my job too well because letting go is nearly killing all of us.
It’s been the summer of blow-ups, never-ending cuddles, late nights, deep discussions, hurting one another to protect our own hearts, and a little bit of disbelief. Disbelief that the reward for fulfilling this purpose is watching your child take flight with trepidation and enthusiasm as you remain firmly on the ground, ready to catch them when they fall – occasionally losing sight of their whereabouts but remembering they are always in your heart.
See, there it is – you feel it. It fucking hurts.
My girls haven’t even left yet, and my heart is already aching because I know what’s coming. I know it’s my time to win my Oscar because no matter how shit I feel about losing them (only in distance, but I know that also means in all the ways because I will no longer be the one they have the private jokes with or the first one they turn to).
I am becoming the side character as they take their rightful place as the main character in their story.
And I’m so excited for them.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel them pull away. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel myself being left behind. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like a motherfucker.
And as the person who made the happy choice to dedicate a big chunk of my life to raising, investing in, and loving them – I hear the echo of my own silence, and it’s terrifying.
Who Am I Now?
Who the fuck am I?
I mean, I sort of remember who I was when I wasn’t in charge of keeping human beings alive. But fuck, to be honest, I was just getting started. I was still figuring out who I was when I had to evolve into a mom. Which, if you ask me in all honesty, is the tippy top of the food chain. Apex predator? Have you seen what happens to the motherfuckers that mess with our kids? Give us ten minutes alone in a room with them, and we’ll teach them the motherfucking manners their mamas forgot to teach.
My point is – what is my point? You see, I’m already spiraling.
Because I know it’s only five more days until we start moving them in.
The Silver Lining: They Won’t Be Alone
Then they come home for a few more days, and they go back to school, and we go too because it’s Gabi’s first year there. Did I forget to mention both girls chose the same university? Yes, the dream is alive. They are going together, and I am beyond pleased about that fact. Because even when I can’t be there for the big moments when they need a hug or a hand held, a shoulder to cry on, or just a pep talk (the kind only a mom or sister can give), or someone to validate their feelings – and other times shake them into reality – you can only send a sister to step in for the mom.
I’m just happy they’ll have a piece of home with them to comfort and support them when I’m not there.
College is also where my girls finally learn to start to self-soothe. You all know I’ve got a problem letting the girls fail. I’m always trying to be the mom I needed to them.
📋 AUGUST REALITY CHECK: WHAT TO EXPECT
| What You Might Experience | This Is Normal |
|---|---|
| Emotional blow-ups over small things | ✓ Completely normal |
| Never-ending cuddles and clinginess | ✓ Expected and precious |
| Late-night deep conversations | ✓ Treasure these moments |
| Hurting each other to protect your own hearts | ✓ Part of the process |
| Wanting to freeze time | ✓ Everyone feels this |
| Questioning your entire identity | ✓ Identity shift is real |
| Your sanity feeling questionable | ✓ Buy the Xanax |
| Their readiness exceeding your expectations | ✓ They’re more prepared than you think |
| Your readiness being nowhere in sight | ✓ That’s okay. It’s not about you. |
The Beautiful & Difficult Truth
But here’s the thing they don’t tell you: watching your child become the main character in their own story is simultaneously the most beautiful and most devastating thing you will ever experience as a parent.
You spend eighteen-plus years building them. Protecting them. Being everything they need. And then one day, you realize the goal was never to keep them – it was to launch them. To make them so capable, so strong, so sure of themselves that they don’t need you anymore. Not in the everyday way. Not in the way that defined your entire adult existence.
And when you finally succeed at that – when you see them ready to take flight – it breaks your heart into a million pieces while simultaneously making you so proud you could burst.
This is the paradox of good parenting. This is the price we pay for doing it right.
The beautiful part is watching them step into their power. Seeing them discover who they really are without you standing there telling them who to be. Watching them fail and get back up. Watching them build their own life, their own identity, their own story where they are unequivocally, unapologetically the main character.
The difficult part is everything else.
It’s the quiet house. It’s the phone calls that will never be as frequent as you want them to be. It’s missing the small moments – the inside jokes, the late-night conversations, being the first person they turn to. It’s being demoted from center stage to the wings, even though you know that’s exactly what should happen.
It’s the hardest thing a parent will ever do.
Because unlike giving birth, which ends, the letting go never really stops. It’s a skill you’ll have to practice over and over again as they move through life – leaving for college, graduating, getting their first apartment, falling in love with someone who becomes their primary person, building a life that doesn’t have you in it every single day.
And every single time, it will hurt.
The First Week Alone: What Nobody Prepares You For
After drop-off, you’ll have approximately three to five days before the reality truly hits. Here’s what that looks like:
Days 1-2: You’ll be running on adrenaline and tasks. The house feels busy even though it’s empty because you’re still in logistics mode.
Day 3: This is when it hits. Hard. The silence becomes deafening. You’ll walk past their room. You’ll set the table for the wrong number of people. You’ll hear a song and think “I should send this to them.” This is when the grief gets real.
Days 4-5: You’ll oscillate between crushing sadness and unexpected moments of lightness. You might laugh at something and feel guilty for laughing. This is normal.
What to do:
- Don’t rearrange their room immediately
- Expect the silence to hurt more on Day 3 than Day 1
- Set communication expectations together (you’ve already done this, but remember: they need to adjust too)
- Let them initiate contact (this helps them adjust and gain confidence)
- Your job is being the stable, loving backup – not the constant check-in
They’re figuring out who they are without you. That’s the whole point. Even though it fucking kills you.
Anyways, Here’s What I Know
Anyways, buy the tuition insurance. You’ll be thanking your stars you only spent a couple hundred dollars versus an entire semester’s worth of tuition at a private college that your child attended for five days.
And anyways, I love you, ladies. Thank you for being here since day one in 2009 and helping me survive this madness called motherhood. We might be entering our first true “Me” era since our twenties, and I don’t know about you, but I am here for it.
But first, let’s get these beautiful babies of ours moved into college.
And then give me another Xanax because, betches, the next two weeks are going to be bumpy ones.
But they’re going to be worth it.
Because that’s what we do.
We let them go.
And we somehow learn to be okay with it.
Even though it breaks us.
Even though it makes us.
Even though it’s the hardest, most beautiful, most devastating thing we will ever do, it feels like our kids are doing the monkey bars over the Grand Canyon, and I’m still trying to catch them if they fall.
XX
You’re Not Alone In This
If you’re reading this and you’re in August hell right now, I want you to know something: what you’re feeling is valid. All of it. The joy and the devastation. The pride and the panic. The excitement for them and the terror for yourself.
This is real. This is hard. And you’re doing it exactly right – even though it doesn’t feel like it.
Resources & Support
If you’re struggling more than you expected:
- Psychology Today Therapist Finder: Find a therapist specializing in life transitions and identity shifts: psychologytoday.com
- SAMHSA National Helpline: Free, confidential support 24/7: 1-800-662-4357
- Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741
- The Gottman Institute: Relationship and family resources for major transitions
For your college-bound student:
- Many universities offer free counseling services (utilize these)
- Encourage them to find their people in first two weeks
- Connection is what helps them adjust – let them figure this out
For you:
- This identity shift is legitimate. Therapy isn’t weakness; it’s wisdom.
- Find your people – other launching pad moms who GET it
- Reconnect with who you were before motherhood (you’re still in there)
- This “Me” era isn’t selfish; it’s necessary
Pin This: August Survival Checklist
✓ Buy tuition insurance ($120)
✓ Schedule therapy (for you or them or both)
✓ Prepare for emotional chaos
✓ Practice letting go (it’s a skill)
✓ Set communication expectations
✓ Get your Xanax prescription filled
✓ Plan something for yourself post-drop-off
✓ Remember: this is the goal you’ve been working toward
✓ Know that it’s okay to grieve and celebrate simultaneously
✓ Trust that they’re more ready than you are
✓ Trust that you’ll be okay (eventually)
Share this with a mom who’s in August hell. She needs to know she’s not alone. 💙