Cutting apron strings

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Cutting the Apron Strings

With all my kids well over 18, you would think I’d have made the full transition from everyday parent to trusted advisor by now—just sitting back and enjoying watching them grow their own families. But somehow, the threads of toxicity and codependency that I wrestled with throughout their childhood quietly bled into their adult years.

Their dad and I went through some deeply toxic seasons, and unfortunately, our kids grew up in the wake of that trauma and drama. So, when they moved out, I think part of me was trying to make up for what they had endured. Truthfully, I was also afraid—afraid to let go, afraid they might fall and I wouldn’t be there to catch them… and maybe even more afraid they would fly and not come back to the nest.

With the older two, I’ve managed to cultivate fairly healthy relationships over the past few years. But this year, the “baby” (as I still call him, lovingly) made some choices that have been hard for me to understand, much less accept. It brought something into sharp focus—I hadn’t fully cut those strings with him. And keeping him under my wing, out of fear and protection, has only hindered him.

That realization hit hard. Holding on too tightly had delayed the necessary struggles—the ones that build strength, resilience, and the ability to truly stand. So this past year? Whew… it’s been messy. But it’s also been holy. Because it forced me to take a long, honest look in the mirror and see that I still had some growing to do too.

Only recently have I started really cutting those cords. I’m learning to set boundaries—not just in word, but in action. I’m letting them face their own consequences. I’m being honest and upfront without trying to rescue or fix. It’s a brand new dynamic for me, and I’ll be honest—it doesn’t always go smoothly. Actually, it rarely goes smoothly. But that’s okay. We are all a work in progress.

And in the midst of it all, I’m so grateful for a God who lovingly reminds me that I don’t have to have it all figured out. He’s showing me that while I may not be their fixer, I will always be their mother. I’ll still love them. I’ll still cheer for them. I’ll still be here... whether they want me to be or not.