Maggie Berns
For more than a year, I painstakingly prepared for my first child’s college drop-off. No, I didn’t hire a decorator or spend $20,000 on dorm décor. I actually started buying dorm items at 75% off during end-of-season sales when he was a junior, so I didn’t have to take out a second mortgage for everything he’d need. I had bedding, toiletries, small appliances, an emergency medical kit, school supplies, and M&Ms because those are his favorite candy. I did it because I love him more than anything in the entire world, and I wanted his home away from home to feel comfortable. I even got one of those cute pillows that said, “Don’t do stupid shit and remember to call your mom.” What was the very first thing he did when we got there? The stupidest fucking thing you can imagine.
I am going to put this out here right now: the perfect college goodbyes that you see on social media are a bunch of bullshit. OK, maybe that’s not fair. They are sincere for plenty of families, but I know I am not alone in saying our drop-off experience was a total nightmare. The thing is, parents don’t want to admit that to the world. They want us all to believe that their child politely accepted every bit of hard work they put into making their college dreams come true without a single bit of attitude, pushback, or apathy. No one wants to admit that their child was 100% ungrateful about the hard work or the emotional and financial drain that moving into college puts on a mother. What you get on Facebook and Instagram is perfectly posed pictures next to a nicely made bed. You don’t see kids treating their parents with total disrespect and disregarding what goes into making that bed.
I don’t have a single photo from dropping my son off at college. It’s not because I didn’t want them. God, I wanted them so badly. I wanted to set up his room and make sure he was safe and snuggly just like I’d done his entire life. In my mind, that’s what would happen. I would set it all up, we’d go to Target and get what he needed, and then we’d have that perfect tearful goodbye. There would be hugs, and photos, and maybe a bit of cash snuck into his pocket just in case. Instead, my husband and I were told to leave. He looked at his brothers and us right in the face and said, “I really don’t want you here. I just want you to go. Just leave.” I literally stood there with my mouth open thinking, “Who the fuck does this asshole think he is?” Somehow, I mustered up enough sense not to say it, but God, I wanted to.
Our family very unceremoniously left just as he requested. There were no tears, no long embraces, and there sure as hell was no extra money left behind. Did I want to? No, not at all. But I realized that at 18, he has to do this on his own. As my husband so eloquently said in the car, he’s living a true moment of FAFO. He thought he was so smart and tough and could do it all, so I called his bluff. God, it sucked. I am sure he was just afraid and nervous, and that’s great, but at the end of the day, that does not equate to treating the people who love you the most like dirt. Sorry, pal, that’s not how life works. Yes, my heart hurt, but I also felt so damn proud of myself and empowered. He had everything he needed. I didn’t leave him helpless, but I did leave him with a lot to think about.
Within 48 hours, I got a text message admitting that alienating his entire family wasn’t the best idea. Did he say he was sorry? No, not yet. He’s an 18-year-old boy who hasn’t quite learned how to take full responsibility for being a total jerk. That will come. I hope. I asked how the unpacking went and if he got the room set up. He said he did, but I don’t believe that for one second. Remember, I have lived with this person for 18 years, and I know what his bedroom looks like. I’ll likely drive back up in May and see things in sealed packages just the way I left them. At the end of the day, this is his experience. He is writing his own story. If it were me, I would’ve wanted a more solid first chapter, but that’s not him. And I guess that’s OK. I will always love him with every beat of my heart, despite his choices not being what I want.
It’s a hard reminder as a mom that we do have to let our kids go, even the ones who act like jerks. If you don’t get the perfect picture, have a budget for elaborate décor, or hear from your kid for a week, it’s OK. They love you, even if they don’t show it the way you want them to. Parenting sucks sometimes, but it’s worth it. And try to remember that those elite-looking social media families still have moments of crying, screaming, fighting, and the silent treatment. They just don’t want you to know about it. Trust me, even their perfect kids should have a pillow that says, “Don’t do stupid shit and remember to call your mom.” Because every single one of them is doing stupid shit-guaranteed. They just don’t want you to know.
Did your college drop-off look nothing like the pictures filling your Instagram feed? Check out College Drop-Off: Instagram vs. Reality for more of what move-in day really looks like when nobody’s posing for the camera.
