When the house gets quiet: ADHD, midlife, and sending kids off to college
(Or university, or wherever their postsecondary adventure takes them.)
You know how some moments in life sneak up on you? You’ve been busy packing, shopping, booking hotels for move-in day, and then suddenly you’re standing in your kid’s dorm room, realizing you have to say goodbye. Then you go home.
And the house is quiet.
One moment you’re dancing joyfully. (Hello, freedom!)
The next, you’re crying in your coffee because your baby is gone. (My mom referred to me as her baby until I was well into adulthood, possibly my 30s. I am her youngest, and possibly her favourite.)
Both emotional states are normal.
Both can happen in the same hour. Or minutes? I imagine that it’s a rollercoaster of emotion.
On that, a quick note before we dive in: I’m not a parent. I opted out of that role. However, many of my closest friends are. I’m at the age where some friends and cousins have kids in elementary school, some in high school, some in college, and some adult children are past school altogether with their postsecondary and/or grad school degrees. I’ve watched these transitions up close. It still blows my mind that people I’ve known since childhood have children who are now adults. I remember when cousins were born, when pregnancies were announced. I danced at the weddings of parents who have an empty house again.
Your daughter and her husband have a child in utero? But she was just born!
I also coach high-functioning women with ADHD, and this season hits hard. So, I’m speaking as a coach and a friend who has walked beside many of you through move-in days and long drives home.
I’m writing this for you, my friends. You inspired this.
The identity shift no one talks about
Parenthood takes up a lot of mental space (or so I’ve heard and witnessed). Even when kids are older, your days still orbit them in some way. Meals, rides, money transfers, car loans, text check-ins, being on call for big and small crises, and the constant worrying.
When they head off on their postsecondary adventure, or when the last one leaves, your sense of identity shifts. You are still Mom or Dad, but it is different. You are not woven into their daily life in the same way. Writing that makes me a little sad, even though they’re not my kids.
For those with ADHD in midlife, the absence of structure can be especially tough. Whether mornings were hectic or calm, parenting created a rhythm. Without it, time stretches, feeling both vast and unexpectedly heavy.
It can feel like the air conditioner clicks off and you only notice it because suddenly all is quiet.
ADHD and the now what? spiral
ADHD brains crave stimulation and clear direction. Kids, whether toddlers or teenagers, provide both. There is always something happening. Always a fire to put out, a deadline to meet, something to plan, etc.
Once that disappears, it can be easy to fall into the 'now what?' spiral. You might find yourself looking around at all the unfinished projects. You realize you have no idea what to make for dinner or at what time because everything was planned around who was home and when. There are no evening lessons, practices, social plans, or homework sessions to schedule around. You sit down to enjoy a moment, but then end up scrolling, feeling a bit guilty for not making better use of your time.
I think this applies to neurotypical parents, too, but for parents with ADHD, the spiral sustains itself. More time and fewer external demands create more opportunity for ADHD paralysis.
"Now what?"
ADHD intensifies emotions, so you might bounce between relief, sadness, guilt, and panic in a single afternoon. That is not a flaw. That is a neurodivergent brain reacting to a big change.
Even as a part of you shouts, “Yay, freedom from parental responsibilities!” your mind is confused.
The midlife layer
When you add midlife to the mix, it creates a perfect storm of change. Midlife itself is an important time with career shifts, evolving friendships, and changing roles. For mothers, perimenopause can bring additional challenges like sleep troubles, mood swings, and brain fog, which may resemble or even amplify ADHD symptoms.
So you are at a crossroads where your role as a parent has shifted, your body is transforming, and your brain already struggles with regulation. No wonder it feels disorienting.
As I wrote early in the summer in a post called “When the life you built no longer feels like yours:
“You’ve outgrown an old version of yourself, but the new one hasn’t fully emerged yet.
No one tells you how disorienting that in-between stage can be, especially after decades of becoming everything you thought you should be.”
Some people call it the “midlife crisis.” I call it the “midlife awakening.”
The quiet grief
From what I’ve heard from friends, no one really prepares you for the grief. Like other emotional experiences and endings, you know it’s coming, but you don’t fully understand how it feels until you’re experiencing it yourself.
It’s not just the sadness you feel because your kid isn’t with you all the time.
It’s also the loss of familiar routines.
It’s the realization that you’ve entered a new stage of life—whether it’s when one child leaves and then another, or when your only child moves on.
It’s the grief of not being needed in the same way.
You raised them to be independent humans, and there they go. There’s the “empty nest”.
Grief doesn’t always stay quiet in the background—especially for ADHD brains. Sometimes, it sneaks into your focus and drains your energy. It can appear when you try to work, and suddenly you are staring at a blank page, wondering why you cannot concentrate. That is your brain processing a major transition.
What helps right now
You build a new structure. Not busywork, not a packed calendar. Thoughtful structure that supports your brain and this stage of life. Much of what I’m about to tell you just happens to be integrated into my PRIMED framework for managing ADHD.
Rebuild routine with gentle anchors
Choose two or three daily anchors. Keep them small and doable. A short walk after coffee. Ten minutes of journaling. A quick tidy of the first surface you see when you come home. Anchors create rhythm, rhythm calms the nervous system, and calm makes focus easier.
You don’t need a perfect routine, just one that supports you at this point in life. That’s the second pillar in my PRIMED framework: Routine that fits real life.
Remember to feed yourself
You no longer have to consider your kids’ nutritional needs or schedule, so it might be tempting to stop cooking or skip meals altogether.
Don’t.
Parent yourself. Eat! Eat!
Your brain runs on fuel. When your nutrition is off, focus and mood take the hit. Nutrition is one of the most overlooked parts of ADHD care and one of the six areas I work on with clients. I call it “intake” because of the vowel in the PRIMED acronym.
When routines shift, meals become inconsistent. If you’re on ADHD medication, you might have a small appetite to begin with.
If you're skipping food and then crashing, have 1–3 dependable meals/recipes in rotation for a few weeks. Ensure these meals are rich in protein and good fats (think avocados, olive oil), which your brain needs to stay healthy. Having a few dishes in your repertoire can decrease decision fatigue. In other words, it makes it easier. And if you still end up cooking enough for an entire family, you’ll enjoy leftovers.
You’ll want those leftovers for lunch the next day, especially if your work shifts back to full-time in-office.
Accept where you are
Your mental state influences every aspect of your life. That’s why ‘M’ is a fundamental part of the PRIMED method.
Name the feeling and move the energy. Expect waves of emotions and embrace them. When you feel sad or restless, perform a simple two-step check-in: first, identify the emotion, and then assign it a purposeful task. For example, say “I feel restless. My gentle mission for the next twenty minutes is to move my body, then begin one small task.” Write down your thoughts. Talk about your feelings with your spouse or co-parent, depending on your family situation.
Reset your environment to match life now
“Environment” is the fifth pillar of my PRIMED framework, and it doesn’t only refer to your workspace.
Your home space was set up for a busy household. Adjust it. Consider how it could better suit your needs.
Consider creating a cozy, quiet space where your eyes can rest.
Give yourself that man cave or she shed.
These small, friendly adjustments send a warm signal to your brain that this is your home base, making everything feel more comfortable and welcoming.
Protect real rest with boundaries
If downtime turns into a rabbit hole, set some boundaries. Having a clear start and end can make a big difference. You might try a 25-minute active rest—like enjoying your beverage of choice on the porch, away from your phone. Or spend an hour on a hobby you love, without worrying about perfection. Remember, rest isn’t just a reward after a busy day or something you don’t do until you crash; it’s what energizes you for the next hour ahead. ADHD needs downtime.
Downtime isn’t optional. It’s where your brain resets and your nervous system recovers. It’s the final pillar of my ADHD support system and is often the most neglected.
Move first, then focus
With kids gone, you have more time for yourself. Start running again or meet friends for pickleball, hockey or whatever it is you play.
If attention drifts, get moving before sitting down and even while sitting. Do incline push-ups against the kitchen counter while your coffee's brewing. Take a brisk walk around the block before checking email. Do chair squats while on calls.
Movement boosts focus and regulates mood.
No amount of mental strategies can make up for a body that’s completely depleted. That’s why physical exercise is the first pillar in my 6-part ADHD support system.
See Fitting exercise into a busy workday (LinkedIn carousel post.)
Finding new sparks without overwhelm
ADHD brains thrive on novelty. The problem is signing up for five new things and then quickly abandoning them. Pick one. A class, a local group, or a creative practice you can start this week using what you already have. Low effort, a bit of fun.
Try a local class or community listing. I’ve recently started scrolling through Meetup and Eventbrite for ideas, in addition to Facebook events, which I was already browsing.
Or how about making plans with friends who are also empty nesters or those who are childless?
If your student is struggling
Many parents fear that their children will struggle, and they won’t be there for them. Going away for 10+ months isn't the same as a month or two at camp. If your newly independent kid is struggling, listen to their concerns.
Ask before you fix.
Practice active listening. You can repeat back something like, “It sounds like you're overwhelmed by homework deadlines and that time management is the hardest part.”
Offer one small step if they want guidance: “Would you like to brainstorm one tiny change, or do you just need me to listen?” This demonstrates calm problem-solving and helps build their self-trust. Explore solutions like academic support, special interest clubs, or connecting with a mentor.
If you are co-parenting with differing styles, establish clear check-in plans to prevent the child from feeling torn between parents. Clarity lowers stress for everyone.
If you are not a parent
If you are like me and not a parent, you can still feel the cultural shift. Your friends’ social media feeds look different. Your social calendar changes. Group chats might go quiet for a bit. Weekends look different.
Check in on friends. Invite them for a walk or a coffee. Invite them to share their experience or distract themselves from it. Give them things to do. (I will try, I promise.)
The reframe
This isn't the end of something beautiful; it's the start of something you get to shape with intention. Your kid is starting a new chapter in their life, and so are you.
In the last few months, I’ve published a few blog posts that might help you explore this further because my friends and I are in midlife, so I’m writing about midlife issues.
Ask yourself if you still want the things you used to want.
Ask, What do I want now that I didn't have permission to want before?
Ask, “What part of my life no longer feels like mine? What part of me wants to return?” (Those questions are way at the bottom of that post.)
Take a little time to explore and try things out. Stay positive, and focus on one step at a time. Just one small next step can help you find a new rhythm and create a wonderful new routine.
Summary
Sending kids off on their postsecondary adventure or stepping into an empty nest can bring a big change in how parents see themselves.
For those with ADHD in midlife, losing daily routines might make distraction, restlessness, and guilt feel even stronger. Recognize the phase you're in, expect some emotions to come and go, and nurture yourself with gentle support—like small, meaningful routines, nourishing activities, cozy spaces, restful moments, and a little bit of movement.
Introduce one new positive thing at a time, rather than many. If your student is having a hard time, ask questions first before offering solutions, and suggest just one small next step.
Remember, this isn’t about filling every moment; it’s about creating a life that truly fits who you are right now.
Want more?
Want a simple, no-signup tool to help you implement this? I've put together a one-page checklist, along with a more detailed weekly worksheet.
The original is in Google Doc format. If you’d prefer that one so that you can tweak it to fit your life, email me.
Apologies for the tight spacing of the one-pager. It took a lot of adjusting to make it fit.
