Soiling the nest: It’s not just teenagers
I have an 18-year-old who is headed off to college this fall. It’s a huge milestone, for him and for me as a parent. This summer he’s not working or taking classes or volunteering like all the other summers. So he’s pretty much having a perfect summer of doing whatever he wants. He’s having a blast.
I, on the other hand, am having a parental breakdown. Did we make the last summer too easy? Should we have insisted he continue working one of his jobs? If he doesn’t leave the house for multiple days at a time, is that a problem? How will he make new friends at college? You know, the normal parental anxiety.
A charming new addition to our parent-teen dynamic is some newfound snark, attitude, and otherwise unnecessary belligerence. From the teen, not from me.
It’s not awesome. I have had to count to ten in my head before responding more than once. I’ve stopped myself from saying, “Really, you’re not hungry for one of the last meals I will cook for you before you go to college?” People, I’m really trying.
Shitting the Nest
My son has entered the phase that is colloquially called “shitting the nest” (the PG version is also known as “soiling the nest” or “pooping the nest”). Many parents note that in the summer before their kids leave, they see their teen exhibit behaviors like:
New criticism of normal rules, standards, or even how a parent talks
Spending a lot more time alone, skipping family events, or isolating in their room
Wanting to do everything on their own but still needing support for normal activities
“Soiling the nest” is not a clinical term. There’s no diagnosis, and it’s not part of any formal theory of human development. But we all know that increasing emotional distance from caregivers is a normal part of adolescence.
And it makes sense that it would ramp up when an adolescent is leaving home, doesn’t it?
If you are going to suddenly leave everything you know, go somewhere totally new, and are feeling both excited and nervous about it, wouldn’t you waffle between independence and dependence? Between enjoying the normalcy of your house and longing for the adventure of what comes next? Knowing that in a few weeks you'll have to do it all yourself, but today your parents are still here to help?
The Emotional Distance We Need to Change
Just like teens, adults have a hard time admitting that change is terrifying. Here are some common ways that adults soil the nest:
Burning things down on purpose. Sometimes we really do need to leave unhealthy situations. But other times, when change is already on the horizon, we unconsciously make the ending messier than it needs to be. Going off on your boss and rage quitting, telling your coworker who always asks for favors what you really think of her, or getting drunk and telling your in-laws off at the holidays are ways that we manufacture a clean break. By blowing up the bridge or burning it down, we make it impossible for ourselves to backtrack.
Manufacturing a reason so the change is easier. Sometimes, when we’re facing a big change that we know is coming, we’ll subconsciously do things that justify the changes we seek to make. If we’re planning to move to a new city in a few months, we might start picking fights with friends in our current city in the months before we leave. If we are moving out of the house, we might start testing our parents in subtle ways.
Self-sabotage. One of the most underhanded ways we resist change is by sabotaging ourselves. In the months before a big promotion, we start flaking on projects, being a brute to other teammates, or behaving inappropriately at the all-staff retreat. Self-sabotage isn’t always obvious. It can be subtle, like perfectionism, procrastination, and people-pleasing.
Giving Ourselves Permission to Change
If soiling the nest is one way we prepare ourselves for change, what are healthier ways to loosen our grip without destroying what we're leaving or ourselves?
Break change down into smaller steps. I worked with a client who felt deeply stuck while trying to make a career change. By creating a longer timeline of two years to explore career options, take classes, and experiment with side gigs while keeping the financial security of her current job, she was able to save the money she needed, explore options, and figure out what would feel like compelling work in the future.
Drop some anchors. We all know that the world around us is feeling…uh…hella unstable. In a time when nothing around us feels secure, deciding to change something in our own life can be deeply unsettling and destabilizing. That’s why leaning into key anchors is so helpful. Getting your morning workout in to provide structure to your day, talking to a close friend every Sunday night, or doing your daily meditation are ways to signal to your nervous system that you are still in control of at least some parts of your experience.
More than one truth. Psychological flexibility is one of the superpowers of mental health. Moving past “either/or” thinking is one of the most important ways we can support our own change. We can want to leave a job that no longer works for us and still grieve for it. We can be clear that we don’t want to have children and mourn not becoming a mother. We don’t need to demonize our choices or our past to justify our future.
Focus on inputs, not outcomes. During periods of change, we do not have control over every aspect of our lives. In fact, we never do. But our anxiety sure likes to make us think we do, huh? By focusing on what we can control - our actions, our words, our behaviors, and our feedback - we can stay in our zone. We can’t control world events, other people’s choices, or what others think or feel about us. If you are looking for a job, your inputs are the resumes you submit, the LinkedIn messages you send, and the conversations you have with former bosses, colleagues, or mentors. You can't control whether an AI screening tool filters out your application—and yes, it sucks. But keeping your attention on the inputs helps you put your energy where you have the greatest ability to influence the change you want.
Change Is Inevitable
My son and I are both doing exactly what we’re supposed to be doing as we enter this season of change. He’s figuring out how to leave a comfortable place for the chance at something new. And I’m left trying to make a comfortable place that will be missing a key part still feel whole. Since I’m the grown-up, I’m responsible for taking those deep breaths and trying to regulate, for reaching out to a friend when I’m frustrated, and rolling my eyes at my husband when my son says something rude. It still gets to be hard for me.
But baby bird is ready to fly. And I’m gonna be proudly watching from the nest.
