Have you ever paid attention to all the slight movements that happen when a Transformer transforms? Yeah, I’m talking about the film series where a car or truck transforms into a giant robot-looking being. It’s all movie magic—but think about how the creative designers were careful to show all the tiny pieces that move to create the transformation.
My son just graduated high school, is 18, and off on his own. He’s a lot like me in that I couldn’t wait to live my own life. In fact, I was mourning his graduation a solid year before he even walked the ceremony stage because I knew he would be gone forever once he tasted emancipation. He’s always been the kid that was fine on his own and loved to explore.
I’m finding that I don’t know how to be the mom of an 18-year-old. While there’s always been a sort of independence, my rules still had to be obeyed. Now he gets to make his own rules. It’s not that I don’t want him to feel the freedom and confidence to make his own choices. I’m just hoping he makes choices that come from a center of great values—the place that holds him tight and protects him.
The deeper discovery is that this moment is a complex transformation for me to experience—in myself. I’m transforming from mom to mentor to friend. It’s the creative director showing the slight moves of all the little things I’ve taught my son or shown him through my actions. It’s even more tiny pieces clicking together as I learn to be in this new role. There are pieces that need to release and then reconnect differently.
I’ve been reading a lot about personal transformation lately. Some of the reads are about shedding the lies we tell ourselves, the negative thoughts that cause us to react to perception rather than reality. Others are about transforming from what we learned because of various cultural, community, or societal influences. Transformation is about becoming the you-est you, the best version of yourself, the you who is making positive decisions.
It feels like I’m taking an entire engine apart to get to my own me-est me—an overhaul. I remember my dad doing that with one of our tractors growing up. There were parts everywhere, lying around the old red tractor in what looked like random piles of chaos. I remember thinking it looked overwhelming and wondered if my dad could get it all back together. He did. And that ole Bessie worked even better. To get it there, though, he had to take each part out to clean, examine, and say nice things to it.
Transforming into a super-cool being that stands in confidence, is sure, ready, optimistic, and at peace needs gears and widgets that carefully connect. While there is no engine overhaul book with instructions to follow, I’ve discovered these four things: I need the time and the quiet to clean and examine because removing the hustle and bustle of life is essential for self-discovery and growth. I also need my support system of friends to remind me that these chapter endings and beginnings are complicated and even weird—and the best course to take is to just keep loving our kids. I need to remember that my son is competent and able to make his own transformations. The best realization, though? I can just be. I’m already a loving mom who taught strong and positive values—and is a super-cool being.