Recently, he’s taken up exercise with a serious commitment—especially walking, jogging, and the occasional hike. It’s something I should be proud of, and I am. He’s driven, motivated to keep fit, and determined to carve out time for his routines. But there’s a catch: he now prefers to do all of this alone. No invitation to join him, no space for dad along the trail. Sometimes, if I even suggest a walk, he’ll flat-out refuse, choosing instead to blaze ahead or head out solo at a different time entirely.
It’s hard not to take this personally. I’ve always valued the times we shared outdoors as moments to connect, and now that he’s pulling away, it feels like I’m losing part of that bond. But I’ve also been told this is a natural, even necessary, step for teenagers. They’re testing the waters of independence, creating boundaries that help them establish a sense of self. And a part of me recognizes he needs this space to explore who he is, outside of who he is to me.
Still, there’s a pang of sadness when I see him head off on his own. I miss the talks, the laughter, the way he’d notice something small and want to show me, excited to share it with someone. Now, he’s quiet, more internal. It’s like he’s gradually moving out of that phase where parents are at the center of everything, and into one where his own thoughts and ambitions take priority.
As parents, we often think we’re prepared for this transition. But nothing quite prepares you for that feeling of watching them grow more separate, right in front of you. And maybe it’s not so much the change in routine that gets to me, but the realization that he’s becoming his own person. It’s both humbling and a little unsettling to know he no longer needs me as much, even for the simple things like a walk.
So, I’m learning to let go, to see his independence as a win for him rather than a loss for me. He’s choosing how he spends his time, learning to enjoy his own company, and setting goals that matter to him. That’s something I admire. Even if it’s lonely at times, I know these steps are part of his journey toward adulthood.
Maybe one day, he’ll invite me along again. And if he doesn’t, I’ll still be here, ready to walk beside him, whenever he needs me.