My 19-year-old daughter sent me a text in all caps.
“I JUST GOT NOAH KAHAN TICKETS!!!”
I congratulated her, knowing she had been constantly checking for resale tickets after she had been unable to get them when they were first released.
As we continued to text, more details emerged. I learned her tickets were for the concert in Cincinnati, 250 miles away from our home in Michigan. My daughter and her friend would be driving 500 miles round-trip in one night to attend the event.
I was flooded with conflicting emotions. While I was happy that she got the tickets she dreamed of, I also felt anxious and worried. How were my husband and I supposed to be OK with a trip like this?
We debated not letting her go
My husband was less conflicted. “She’s not going,” he said, listing all the ways that attending the concert was a bad idea, ways that I agreed with. These included two young women driving alone on a busy highway to an unfamiliar city, making the return trip late at night, and being so far away that we couldn’t reach them quickly if something went wrong.
Keeping her home would be easier. At least for us.
Courtesy of the author
Yet telling her she couldn’t go was unrealistic. Technically, she was an adult and had purchased the tickets herself. She had already arranged to take the day off work so she could make the drive. And if we didn’t let her go now, then when would we consider her old enough and capable enough to make such a trip?
I’m learning how to parent my adult child
Our daughter was stunned that we thought we had any say. She saw herself as an adult ready to make her own decisions, while we were caught in the gray area between wanting to protect our child and accepting that she was capable of making her own decisions.
As I thought about it, attending the out-of-town concert was exactly the kind of experience she was ready for. If we wanted her to become the responsible adult we had raised her to be, then she needed opportunities like this to practice. And when I reminded my husband of the road trips we had taken in our early 20s, before cellphones or the internet even existed, we could not justify telling her she couldn’t go.
So we refocused our energy on giving advice, reminding her what to watch out for while driving and while attending a large event in a city where we knew no one. She was so excited when she left, while we settled in for a night of checking Find My on our phones and hoping for the best.
We tracked her during her drive
We tracked her drive, the little dot on our phones bringing some comfort. I felt guilty at times, as if watching her somehow undermined the faith I should have in her.
She sent a text when they arrived safely, but then something went wrong.
“I think one of you just charged something to my card from Amazon,” she texted. My husband and I didn’t remember ordering anything, which we confirmed after checking our account.
“I think I must’ve gotten hacked,” she continued before admitting, “I’m not entirely sure what to do here.”
A few years earlier, I would have taken care of this for her. Instead, this was another reminder that our relationship was changing now that she was older. She didn’t need me to solve the problem. She just needed me to help her think through it.
We jumped on a call to talk through her next steps. Then she called the bank to report the erroneous charge and cancel her card. After switching to her backup card (which I was thankful to learn she had), she returned to enjoying her dream concert.
Things went more smoothly from there. She got the merch she wanted and shared pictures of herself crying tears of joy once Noah Kahan took the stage. I felt so pleased for her — the tears she had cried when she couldn’t get tickets were replaced with these happy ones.
Once the concert was over, my husband stayed up checking on their progress as they made the trip back. When our daughter arrived safely around 3 a.m., I felt him crawl into bed. We both slept soundly once we knew she was home.
Just a few hours later, she awoke and left for work, wearing the concert shirt she had purchased the night before. As I wished her a good day and watched her leave, I realized the truth of this experience.
She was not only learning how to be an adult, but becoming one. She needed this trip to build her independence. And I needed this trip to learn how to let her go.
