It’s so… silent. That was the first thing that hit me. Then other, smaller realisations: the ironing pile wasn’t really a pile anymore; the recycling bin wasn’t full when I put it out; there are only two toothbrushes on the bathroom sink.
Then mushrooms reappeared on the shopping list my husband drew up. The reason that caught me out was that neither of our boys like mushrooms. If we included them in a spag bol when they were little, the vegetables always seemed to “fall out” and end up on the side of the plate, so we stopped cooking stuff with them in.
And now we can eat all the damn mushrooms we want, because our older son is on the other side of the world travelling and our youngest has just started his first term at university.
Ollie is sampling Thai street food and noodles in Hong Kong, and Joe – well, he’s at university so it might be a kebab at two in the morning, but there’ll certainly be no mushrooms involved.
My husband and I are now facing something called an “empty nest” – it’s a syndrome apparently, not a medical condition, so I can’t get any tablets for it. I know this because I checked online.
Don’t get me wrong. I am genuinely happy that my boys are embracing life and having new and thrilling experiences. I know that change is normal – if stressful – and there are loads of people out there going through serious stress and heartbreak. And I’m being whingey and getting things out of proportion. I just haven’t been able to tell my face that yet.
Christmas feels a long way away, it is colder outside and, well, life doesn’t seem quite so fulfilling. I keep thinking about the days when they were both totally reliant on us for pretty much everything – what they wore, when it was time to go to school, what we’d have for tea – and how protective I felt about them.
square VICTORIA DERBYSHIRE I pretend my emails are automatically deleted when I'm on holiday - I'm not sorry
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How dare they grow up and not need us anymore? Well, at least not until they want some cash to tide them over, anyway.
I set up a support group with some of our closest friends, who also have two boys and are suddenly in the exact same situation. When I say “support group”, I mean we got together for a curry and wine while we talked about how much we missed our children.
We discussed being glued to the family WhatsApp group – always requesting new photos, updates, stories, anecdotes – and diligently following their adventures on TikTok, as if we are now living our lives vicariously in Cambodia and Liverpool.
Then there’s the anxiety. We’re all on an app called Life360 which shows us where the rest of us are at any time, or where our phones are at least. I have spent enough time on there to warrant some kind of platinum membership. It is especially poignant to see their location illustrated by a photo of them; yes, that makes me miss them more.
At least I get to leave the house and go to work at Newsnight: the routine is good for us sufferers of empty nest syndrome. But my husband mostly works from home so he feels it even more. He came back from doing the weekly shop the other day with unnecessary soft toys for our two spaniels, Gracie and Lola: one a doughnut, the other a watermelon. And I thought I had it bad. To be fair, the dogs have both stepped up. They’re getting even more love and attention than usual.
There are advantages, of course. I’m sure Christmas will be extra special this year when they are both back, and my husband and I have enjoyed more time together as a couple. We both know we’re struggling a tad so we’re being extra kind to each other, cogniscent of the fact that we’re feeling slightly empty inside.
OK, so that mainly means we’re burning through a lot more Netflix series, but we’re watching them together as a couple and knowing we won’t get interrupted by one of the boys asking if we’ve seen a T-shirt they can’t find, or if it’s OK to eat the last slice of pizza in the fridge, or to let us know they may have friends over for the evening, or just telling us something funny from their day.
Oh no, that’s set me off again. I might need the support group.
Victoria Derbyshire is a journalist and broadcaster
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