A Quiet House: Navigating the Emotional Whirlwind of Freshman Drop-Off

It happens between the dorm room hug and the long drive home. You planned for this moment for 18 years, but no one prepares you for the quiet that follows.

“You’ll be fine. I’m the one who’s not fine.”

"On the flight to his next chapter"

Dropping a child off at college is a milestone packed with pride and possibility. But for many parents, it’s also a season of unexpected grief, joy, and rediscovery.

As a former admissions officer and a mom who’s just been through it, I want to share what I’ve learned — not just as an expert, but as someone figuring it out in real time.

As I shared on Dartmouth’s Admissions Beat:

“Oh my gosh, you could hear a pin drop in here… That’s when I had my emotion. I walked into his bedroom and burst into tears.”

This Is Their Moment…Not Ours

In the days leading up to move-in, I focused on the logistics: shopping lists, dorm bedding, financial aid paperwork. It was a way to keep my emotions at bay.

But when we arrived on campus, I made a conscious choice: This isn’t about me. This is his launch.

“I really focused on Gideon and this being Gideon’s moment, managing my emotions so he could have this moment, and it worked.”

I stayed present, helped him unpack, and even managed to laugh as we awkwardly wrestled with twin XL sheets. When the time came for that last hug, I let it linger. Then I smiled and left.

The Silence After Move-In

The flight home was quiet. But the house was quieter.

I opened the door to his room, his posters still on the wall, his bed still unmade, and felt the flood rise. This wasn’t just an ending; it was a beginning for both of us.

And that’s the paradox of parenting: every milestone is a little bit of letting go.

Three Lessons I Wish I’d Known Before Drop-Off

1. Let yourself feel it. But not in front of them.

Your child is managing their own cocktail of excitement and nerves. Your tears (or their anticipation of them) don’t need to be part of the mix on move-in day.

2. Plan for the quiet.

After drop-off, your house will feel different. Line up something restorative, dinner with friends, a long walk, even a project to distract your hands while your heart recalibrates.

3. Keep the focus on them, not the empty nest.

This isn’t about the empty bedroom. It’s about a full future they’re stepping into.

This Isn’t Just About Them — It’s About You, Too

When families talk about college transitions, we focus on the students:

Will they adjust? Will they eat something green at least once a week?

But what about the parents?

“The first night after Gideon left, I walked past his room and instinctively went to remind him to plug in his laptop. Then I stopped in the hallway and just stood there. The house felt too big and too quiet.”

This emotional shift isn’t just “empty nest syndrome.” It’s the result of years of caregiving and routines suddenly… stopping.

Why the Quiet Feels So Loud

Parents often underestimate how much of their identity is tied to the daily logistics of parenting. When those disappear overnight, the silence can feel deafening.

Here’s what helped me, and might help you, too:

• Acknowledge the grief. Missing the chaos means you loved it well.

• Recognize the opportunity. This is your season to rediscover yourself.

• Stay connected, but don’t hover. Let your student take the lead on how and when they reach out.

“I had to learn not to over-text. My instinct was to check in every morning, but I realized giving him space helped us both adjust.”

Rediscovering Your Own Next Chapter

Think of this as your own commencement.

“I realized I’d been so focused on helping Gideon embrace change that I hadn’t noticed how much I needed to do the same. This wasn’t an ending. It was an opening.”

Whether it’s reviving an old hobby, deepening friendships, or exploring new career goals, this is your chance to write the next chapter of your story.

A Few Words for the Road (Literally)

If you’re still facing the drive (or flight) home after drop-off, here’s my advice:

Make a playlist of songs that make you smile.

Pack tissues (you’ll need them).

Let yourself feel it all.

The quiet house isn’t empty. It’s full of memories, love, and the next season of your life waiting to unfold.

Want to hear me talk more about this moment? Listen to my conversation on Dartmouth’s Admissions Beat podcast [here].