Change is good. Why do we find it so difficult?

Better to embrace the new and make it work for us

Change is constant. Often, we don’t notice it, but it’s there, ticking away in the background, evolving, making things different. All the time. We notice some of the small things but, by and large, it’s only when something big happens in our lives that we realise change is upon us. It may be that we have engineered it, in which case we have time to weigh up what it will mean for us, to adapt and to celebrate the benefits. It’s when it happens unexpectedly that we sometimes struggle to come to terms with it and frequently see it as negative.  

Like everyone, I have been through many changes in my life: moving to another country, having children, marriage, the death of my parents, divorce, aging and many more. Some of these were chosen, others were not. I was 20 years old when I told my mother I had decided to follow in the footsteps of my two elder brothers and leave Belfast to move to London. She sighed in resignation and said “You all leave just when you’ve started to get interesting.”  I was a bit offended at the time – had I really been dull for most of my life? But now I understand: whilst she was delighted for me that I was going to follow my dreams of working on a magazine, that change meant she was also going to miss me dreadfully. Having put in all the hard work of raising me, nurturing me and teaching me through my childhood years, she wanted to reap the benefits, share time with me as an adult and see all her efforts come to fruition.

Last Sunday was my twin daughters’ 24th birthday. They have become lovely young women. They are bright, intelligent and inspiring. They have each found jobs in their chosen careers – one as a journalist, the other as a graphic designer. They are funny, especially when they laugh uproariously together about some in-joke, that only they, with their special, twin connection, understand. I love spending time with these newly fledged adults.

Me & my girls, Connie (left) & Hattie (right)

TIME TO ADAPT

There will, however, be less time spent with them from now on, for last Sunday another big change occurred: it was the day they moved out of our family home and into a place of their own. They had been gearing up for this move for a long time: university took them to opposite ends of the country – one to Leeds, the other to Falmouth – and gave them a taste of independent living. I got used, then, to not having them around, and, frankly, was glad of the peace and quiet: their teenage years had brought a certain amount of turmoil – rare is the parent who avoids it – and I enjoyed being released, albeit temporarily, from the responsibilities of their every-day wellbeing.

Then Covid hit, and instead of finishing their third year and graduating, both girls returned home and have been here ever since. It’s been great watching them grow into reasonably responsible adults, but it has not been without its challenges: this isn’t a large house and four adults eating, sleeping and working from home every day has caused a certain amount of friction. Having had a taste of freedom and independence means these young women now know all the answers and want to do things their way. I am prepared to give a little, but by and large “My house, my rules” prevails. Tensions, therefore, become high at times and arguments flare. But we all realised quite quickly, during the first lockdown, that there’s no point in flouncing out of rooms and slamming doors, when you’ve got no-where else to go!

So, we’ve found our ways to rub along, and I’ve known that, much as they love this home, the girls have been itching to get out into a place of their own, as soon as they can afford to do so. It is of course, exactly what they should be doing at this stage in their lives. The role of a parent is to prepare their child for independent living and, when that time comes, one should be celebrating and congratulating oneself on having done a good job. But it’s hard to let go.

THE THRILL OF THE NEW

Last weekend, we packed two cars with most of their possessions and off they went to the house they are going to be sharing with two friends for the foreseeable future. There had been great excitement over which wok and potato masher to choose, exclamations over the fact that “bedlinen is just SO expensive” and entreatments: could I please just do them one last load of washing before they go? My new-home gift to them was a selection of stain removers, for no longer will they be able to sidle up to me looking downcast, a white sweatshirt or a pair of cream trousers in hand saying “Oh mum I’ve got tea/coffee/tomato sauce on this – do you think it’ll come out?” knowing I will sort it for them.

I remember well the thrill of moving into my first place on my own: the realisation that I could do ANYTHING I wanted and no one could complain. Well, except the neighbours that is – they, on occasions pointed out my music was too loud or my friends, when leaving late at night, too noisy. Fair enough. But mostly I felt free and very, very, grown up. So, I do understand their desire to move out and move on to the next phase of their lives and, in truth, they need to spread their wings and no longer be constrained by me, my wishes and my way of doing things.

THE UP-SIDE

As for me, I shall be free of the irritation I feel at finding towels strewn on the bathroom floor (what is that all about?) and the plates and cups that pile up next to the dishwasher rather than being put in it. I won’t miss the random things I find in the freezer – ice-lollies, endless tubs of different flavoured ice-cream and packets of dim sum dumplings. Neither will I mourn the semi-permanent racks of damp washing that clutter up the house and I’ll be glad to be free of the bickering about who’s having a shower first or who’s turn it is to clear up after dinner.

THESE THINGS I’LL MISS

But I shall miss much about having them around and the little interactions we have each day.  I’ll miss the family dinners when we “put the world to rights”. I shall miss the energy they bring to the house, the knock-about humour when they both get on a roll and talk so quickly I can’t understand what they’re saying. I’ll miss their friends calling round – although most of them have also moved to ‘The Big Smoke’ and left their parents behind in the ‘burbs. I’ll miss the help they give me with Finlay, our wayward cocker spaniel. I do most of the walks, but it’s nice to get a morning off at the weekend. I shall simply miss their sweet faces.

THERE HAS TO BE CHANGE

So, there it is: the end of an era, the start of something new. For me and for them. I am conflicted about it as one often is, but ultimately, it is good and it is necessary, for without change we would become stuck – bogged down in a hum-drum world of sameness. It’s important for us to step outside our comfort zone and embrace the different and the new. Only by doing so, do we challenge ourselves and prove we can adapt to change. We never know if what scared us might in fact turn out to make life better.

As my girls point out, they’re not moving to Australia (how does one cope with that?), they’re only going to be 45 minutes away. They assure me they’ll be back regularly – largely to see the dog and have a Sunday roast cooked for them, I suspect. And we will always have a special relationship. My mum had four children - two boys and two girls: I remember her saying “A son’s a son till he takes a wife, but a daughter’s a daughter for all of her life”. Let’s hope she’s right.

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