Adrian Barich: It’s scary and confronting but this is why we need to learn to let our kids go

Letting your kids leave home (as if you had any choice in the matter) is one of the great emotional paradoxes of parenting.

On the one hand, you spend about 18 years telling them to grow up, toughen up, and take some responsibility.

Then the minute they actually try to do it somewhere east of the Nullarbor or north of the Equator, you panic and start researching, “How to emotionally blackmail your kids into not changing anything.”

My wife Jodie and I are at the stage now where you want your children to spread their wings, but only with Fremantle.

Anywhere that’s still within “our sphere of influence” and definitely within “I’m coming home real quick” distance.

Because let’s be honest, as parents we want them to be close; not just for love and support, but also for selfish reasons.

I love seeing them regularly, so much so that when they say they want to hang out, I’m like Tom Cruise sprinting through any of the Mission: Impossible movies.

I want them with us for as long as possible. I like knowing they are safe.

However, I am conscious that I do not want to increase our chances of having grandchildren by smothering them or accidentally turning them into people who never leave the house and never hit the road. So it’s a balancing act in a lot of ways, right?

But unfortunately the truth is that kids really need to leave home. And if you’re from Perth, they’ll probably need to leave Perth too.

Before you send an angry email, let me say this: Perth is amazing. Safe, clean, sunny, prosperous and incredibly liveable. It’s not called God’s Country for nothing.

But in many ways, it also resembles a big provincial town with a global mining budget. We have more millionaires per capita than anywhere else in the world and we have beaches that look like postcards.

We don’t always lock our doors and mostly only complain when coffee reaches $6 or some poor soul leaves you stranded.

And our traffic chaos is a 10 minute delay on the Kwinana Highway.

Especially in the best suburbs the situation is good, almost too good. Everything works. Needs are met. Comfort is king. While this is great, this is exactly why kids need separation.

Because growth doesn’t come from comfort. This comes from discomfort (I sound like my old coach Mick Malthouse).

When you leave home you discover who you really are; not who you are in relation to your family, your school, your football club or your suburb.

No one knows your last name, your background, or what school you went to. And trust me, no one outside of Perth cares.

This is confrontation. And it’s great. And it’s incredibly healthy.

Teens quickly learn independence when there is no safety net. They learn how to deal with fear, unfamiliar streets, new systems, and the silent terror that comes with realizing that if something goes wrong, mom and dad aren’t just a phone call away.

They also learn resilience as they deal with small but scary truths like, “If I get sick, I have to handle it myself.”

You naturally become tougher mentally. You think more carefully. You are growing up. While this may be hard for parents to watch, it’s exactly what we want for them (I can’t believe I’m saying this).

Living somewhere else makes children more open-minded. When everything around you is different (attitudes, cultures, rules, expectations) you have to adapt. Stop assuming your way is the only way. You listen more. You judge less. You change.

And here’s the annoying part for parents (especially me): sometimes that means they’re in over our heads.

They question what they were taught. They reevaluate beliefs. They develop views that are not ours. But don’t feel bad. This is not failure, this is success. Raising thinking adults looks like this.

At the same time, they are self-confident. They pay bills. Laundry doesn’t just magically get washed and folded. They are building networks. They learn that nothing is handed to them on a silver platter and that nothing will happen if they don’t take action.

Perhaps the most important thing they gain is trust in their own instincts.

When there is no one to constantly reassure them, they learn to listen to their instincts. That’s when true trust occurs that doesn’t require approval.

And finally something strange happens. Home becomes a question rather than a place. Is it where you grew up? Or where do you feel most alive? Travelers don’t just fall in love with people. They fall in love with cities.

And when this happens, the world feels bigger, richer and more possible.

This brings us back to the hardest part for parents: letting go.

In many ways, we are the heroes of this story; us parents and significant others.

It hurts. This is very scary. It triggers anxiety. But it is necessary. Because if we hold on too tightly, we don’t protect our children, we restrict them. This is our job; Raising children who surpass us.

So yes, I want my kids close to me. But more than that, I want them to be brave, curious, independent, non-judgmental and open-minded; even if it means leaving Perth.

And even if that means Jodie and I have to practice letting go quietly, one Cornetto at a time for Jodie and a bowl of cereal at midnight for me.

While you’re secretly counting the days until you come home for Christmas, learn how to let go.