My elder son, Max, 21, left Singapore to study in Oxford, United Kingdom, in September 2025. My second son, Lucas, 19, is finishing his first year in National Service. I see Lucas on weekends but since Max has only been away for a few months, he won’t be coming home so soon.
How am I coping with empty nesting? It’s something I’ve always known would happen, and that we would miss them when they live abroad or stay in camp. I just didn’t expect the loss of their everyday presence to be so… tactile.
I wrote about how I felt in an Instagram and Facebook post: “It feels like standing in front of the ice cream fridge at SPC petrol station, about to buy two boxes of mini Magnums and suddenly remembering the boys are not home to eat them.
“It’s shopping at Cold Storage, and putting takeout sushi into my basket for supper, only to take them out again because no one has suppers anymore. It’s walking past Toast Box, knowing I don’t need to buy pork floss buns for school breakfast tomorrow, but I queue up anyway to buy kopi C.
“And then coming home, a big slobbering mess, realising I’ve become my parents and that buying my kids’ favourite snacks has been a love language, but now what?
“What do I do with all these feelings left in all that unbought food? How did no one warn me about this!?”
Settling her older son Max into college at the University of Oxford in the United Kingdom, in September 2025. (Photo: Janice Koh)
Preparing meals or providing food is very much a love language for many mothers. It’s certainly my mum’s way of showing her love – my fridge and larder are bursting with fruits and crackers that she’s bought.
While I seldom cook, I often buy my sons their favourite snacks or food for supper whenever I’m at a store or supermarket. It has become a habit.
On my usual grocery run recently, I instinctively picked up some items before realising there would be no one at home to eat it and quickly put them down.
I thought, ‘What is this grieving?’ Because, in a way, it is a kind of grieving, for a stage of life that is passing.
Koh and her husband Lionel Yeo at their younger son Lucas’ passing out ceremony for Medical Response Force, where he was awarded Best Specialist. (Photo: Janice Koh)
It is not about whether they need me the way they used to, or what they need from me. It’s more for me than anything else. This is how I express love for our kids.
At that moment, to not be able to express that… it really hit home that something has shifted.
My husband and I are glad that our boys are thriving in their newfound independence. We love that they’re finding their own voice as they navigate new worlds. It’s exciting. But it’s also an emotional experience.
It is completely different from that feeling of separation when dropping your child off on their first day at kindergarten. Now, we are the ones having the separation anxiety.
Unless they were sick, I never really worried about my kids so long as we were all under the same roof.
It was only when they were physically away from me that I started to worry about them. Are they taking care of themselves? Are they having proper meals? Are they keeping warm, or are they walking around outside with wet hair in the middle of winter?
Koh’s family in London before elder son Max began his three-year degree programme in the United Kingdom. (Photo: Janice Koh)
I’m a rational, practical person. In my mind, I know they’ll be fine, and I’ll be fine. But once in a while, something happens that triggers an emotional response.
Recently, I had a house guest from overseas who stayed in Max’s room. In the middle of the night, I heard his bedroom door slam. For a brief moment, I thought, ‘Oh, he’s home!’
When it struck me that it wasn’t him, I felt like crying. The absence hits you in a way you don’t quite expect.
Dinner conversations are a ritual we started during the COVID-19 lockdown. In a way, I’m grateful that it gave my family more time together at home.
We talk about anything and everything – from art and history to politics and public policy. If they want advice about work or friends, or there are important family matters to be discussed, it was usually over dinner.
Now that the boys are not at home, we get updates at the end of the week over video call, but so many little details are missed or forgotten. It’s through the details and day-to-day sharing that keep us on the pulse of what’s going on in their lives. I miss that.
The Yeo family, about two years ago: Husband Lionel, and sons Lucas (left) and Max (right). (Photo: Janice Koh)
With Lucas, I’m not so worried as much as simply missing his daily presence at home. With Max, I worry about him falling sick and having to navigate a healthcare system that is unlike Singapore’s. Will he have the good sense to wear a scarf and a beanie when it’s zero degrees Celsius outside?
Perhaps it’s not very rational to concern ourselves over these small things. Yet, it is rational. Small things matter.
In the first few months, to make myself feel better, I would go onto Amazon UK to see if there’s anything useful I could send to Max’s dorm. It was my way of caregiving from afar.
Being empty-nested is one of those experiences where you only understand it as a concept, until it happens to you; then, you realise what people are talking about.
Perhaps the anxiety is partly to do with navigating change in middle age. We may be at a time of our lives when we are navigating changes in our careers and at home, feeling less in control of whom we used to take care of.
Koh’s family trip in London: “Our family are huge arts enthusiasts and loved being able to watch shows and catch exhibitions together in London. It’s a rare treat,” she said. (Photo: Janice Koh)
On top of that, women who may be facing the onset of menopause are also going through physical changes.
There are so many fundamental, existential shifts that are going on – physically, psychologically, and emotionally. So, I’m not surprised that being empty-nested can hit in such a visceral way, because that’s not the only thing that’s changing, especially for women.
I wrote the social media posts as a way of showing myself some grace. We are all trying our best and, in our own way, trying to build some kind of resilience as we go through this season of our lives.
To some degree, it’s about relinquishing the idea that we have any control. In the face of change, it’s sometimes easier to cling on than to let go. But we should let go so that they can run, and fly, and be the very people we hope we’ve nurtured them to be.
As our kids get older, I feel we need to do more work – on ourselves. I need to do less telling and more asking.
It’s like coaching or mentoring. Imagine being a manager in a corporation. If you’re always micromanaging or telling your team what to do, it’s hard for them to grow. They’ll always be waiting for instructions. Instead, ask for their views. Ask how they’re doing. It might encourage conversation, new ideas and mutual respect.
Koh with her sons Lucas and Max, aged 8 and 10 respectively – outdoor activities were a mainstay for her kids when they were young. (Photo: Janice Koh)
This is what I want to be conscious of when I talk to my boys. But old habits die hard. I am bossy by nature and often impose my views. I’m working on it. My husband is very good at throwing me the side-eye whenever I do that.
What I should be asking more of is, ‘Well, what do you think? What would you do?’
I believe if we can do this well, our relationship and connection with our growing children will continue to evolve and improve through different phases of their lives.
My husband has been warning me for years now: ‘We’re going to be empty-nested in a couple of years, we better prepare for it.’ At that time, I was like, ‘What are you talking about?!’
I didn’t expect to be on Amazon UK sending Max extra bedding and a travel hair dryer – my last-ditch attempt to make sure he doesn’t catch a cold. I don’t know if he’ll use them, but I’m sending them anyway.
Is it my way of being in control when I know I have no control? Yes. Do I need to learn to trust my kids more? Absolutely.
I finally understand what my mum went through when I was studying in London at 21. She’d often send things to me or worry about how I was doing.
I wouldn’t say she was nagging or controlling, but it was a time before the use of smartphones, and the physical distance was palpable.
Back then, my 21-year-old brain thought, ‘What’s there to worry about?’.
Now here I am, eating my own words.
Janice Koh is a veteran stage, TV and movie actress, and a former Nominated Member of Parliament.
CNA Women is a section on CNA Lifestyle that seeks to inform, empower and inspire the modern woman. If you have women-related news, issues and ideas to share with us, email CNAWomen [at] mediacorp.com.sg.
Continue reading...
How am I coping with empty nesting? It’s something I’ve always known would happen, and that we would miss them when they live abroad or stay in camp. I just didn’t expect the loss of their everyday presence to be so… tactile.
I wrote about how I felt in an Instagram and Facebook post: “It feels like standing in front of the ice cream fridge at SPC petrol station, about to buy two boxes of mini Magnums and suddenly remembering the boys are not home to eat them.
“It’s shopping at Cold Storage, and putting takeout sushi into my basket for supper, only to take them out again because no one has suppers anymore. It’s walking past Toast Box, knowing I don’t need to buy pork floss buns for school breakfast tomorrow, but I queue up anyway to buy kopi C.
“And then coming home, a big slobbering mess, realising I’ve become my parents and that buying my kids’ favourite snacks has been a love language, but now what?
“What do I do with all these feelings left in all that unbought food? How did no one warn me about this!?”
Settling her older son Max into college at the University of Oxford in the United Kingdom, in September 2025. (Photo: Janice Koh)
FOOD: THE LOVE LANGUAGE OF MOTHERS
Preparing meals or providing food is very much a love language for many mothers. It’s certainly my mum’s way of showing her love – my fridge and larder are bursting with fruits and crackers that she’s bought.
While I seldom cook, I often buy my sons their favourite snacks or food for supper whenever I’m at a store or supermarket. It has become a habit.
On my usual grocery run recently, I instinctively picked up some items before realising there would be no one at home to eat it and quickly put them down.
I thought, ‘What is this grieving?’ Because, in a way, it is a kind of grieving, for a stage of life that is passing.
Koh and her husband Lionel Yeo at their younger son Lucas’ passing out ceremony for Medical Response Force, where he was awarded Best Specialist. (Photo: Janice Koh)
It is not about whether they need me the way they used to, or what they need from me. It’s more for me than anything else. This is how I express love for our kids.
At that moment, to not be able to express that… it really hit home that something has shifted.
My husband and I are glad that our boys are thriving in their newfound independence. We love that they’re finding their own voice as they navigate new worlds. It’s exciting. But it’s also an emotional experience.
SEPARATION ANXIETY FOR THE PARENTS
It is completely different from that feeling of separation when dropping your child off on their first day at kindergarten. Now, we are the ones having the separation anxiety.
Unless they were sick, I never really worried about my kids so long as we were all under the same roof.
It was only when they were physically away from me that I started to worry about them. Are they taking care of themselves? Are they having proper meals? Are they keeping warm, or are they walking around outside with wet hair in the middle of winter?
Koh’s family in London before elder son Max began his three-year degree programme in the United Kingdom. (Photo: Janice Koh)
I’m a rational, practical person. In my mind, I know they’ll be fine, and I’ll be fine. But once in a while, something happens that triggers an emotional response.
Recently, I had a house guest from overseas who stayed in Max’s room. In the middle of the night, I heard his bedroom door slam. For a brief moment, I thought, ‘Oh, he’s home!’
When it struck me that it wasn’t him, I felt like crying. The absence hits you in a way you don’t quite expect.
MISSING LONG CHATS AND CAREGIVING FROM AFAR
Dinner conversations are a ritual we started during the COVID-19 lockdown. In a way, I’m grateful that it gave my family more time together at home.
We talk about anything and everything – from art and history to politics and public policy. If they want advice about work or friends, or there are important family matters to be discussed, it was usually over dinner.
Now that the boys are not at home, we get updates at the end of the week over video call, but so many little details are missed or forgotten. It’s through the details and day-to-day sharing that keep us on the pulse of what’s going on in their lives. I miss that.
The Yeo family, about two years ago: Husband Lionel, and sons Lucas (left) and Max (right). (Photo: Janice Koh)
With Lucas, I’m not so worried as much as simply missing his daily presence at home. With Max, I worry about him falling sick and having to navigate a healthcare system that is unlike Singapore’s. Will he have the good sense to wear a scarf and a beanie when it’s zero degrees Celsius outside?
Perhaps it’s not very rational to concern ourselves over these small things. Yet, it is rational. Small things matter.
In the first few months, to make myself feel better, I would go onto Amazon UK to see if there’s anything useful I could send to Max’s dorm. It was my way of caregiving from afar.
Being empty-nested is one of those experiences where you only understand it as a concept, until it happens to you; then, you realise what people are talking about.
NAVIGATING CHANGE IN MIDDLE AGE
Perhaps the anxiety is partly to do with navigating change in middle age. We may be at a time of our lives when we are navigating changes in our careers and at home, feeling less in control of whom we used to take care of.
Koh’s family trip in London: “Our family are huge arts enthusiasts and loved being able to watch shows and catch exhibitions together in London. It’s a rare treat,” she said. (Photo: Janice Koh)
On top of that, women who may be facing the onset of menopause are also going through physical changes.
There are so many fundamental, existential shifts that are going on – physically, psychologically, and emotionally. So, I’m not surprised that being empty-nested can hit in such a visceral way, because that’s not the only thing that’s changing, especially for women.
I wrote the social media posts as a way of showing myself some grace. We are all trying our best and, in our own way, trying to build some kind of resilience as we go through this season of our lives.
To some degree, it’s about relinquishing the idea that we have any control. In the face of change, it’s sometimes easier to cling on than to let go. But we should let go so that they can run, and fly, and be the very people we hope we’ve nurtured them to be.
WORKING ON OURSELVES AS OUR KIDS GROW
As our kids get older, I feel we need to do more work – on ourselves. I need to do less telling and more asking.
It’s like coaching or mentoring. Imagine being a manager in a corporation. If you’re always micromanaging or telling your team what to do, it’s hard for them to grow. They’ll always be waiting for instructions. Instead, ask for their views. Ask how they’re doing. It might encourage conversation, new ideas and mutual respect.
Koh with her sons Lucas and Max, aged 8 and 10 respectively – outdoor activities were a mainstay for her kids when they were young. (Photo: Janice Koh)
This is what I want to be conscious of when I talk to my boys. But old habits die hard. I am bossy by nature and often impose my views. I’m working on it. My husband is very good at throwing me the side-eye whenever I do that.
What I should be asking more of is, ‘Well, what do you think? What would you do?’
I believe if we can do this well, our relationship and connection with our growing children will continue to evolve and improve through different phases of their lives.
My husband has been warning me for years now: ‘We’re going to be empty-nested in a couple of years, we better prepare for it.’ At that time, I was like, ‘What are you talking about?!’
I didn’t expect to be on Amazon UK sending Max extra bedding and a travel hair dryer – my last-ditch attempt to make sure he doesn’t catch a cold. I don’t know if he’ll use them, but I’m sending them anyway.
Is it my way of being in control when I know I have no control? Yes. Do I need to learn to trust my kids more? Absolutely.
I finally understand what my mum went through when I was studying in London at 21. She’d often send things to me or worry about how I was doing.
I wouldn’t say she was nagging or controlling, but it was a time before the use of smartphones, and the physical distance was palpable.
Back then, my 21-year-old brain thought, ‘What’s there to worry about?’.
Now here I am, eating my own words.
Janice Koh is a veteran stage, TV and movie actress, and a former Nominated Member of Parliament.
CNA Women is a section on CNA Lifestyle that seeks to inform, empower and inspire the modern woman. If you have women-related news, issues and ideas to share with us, email CNAWomen [at] mediacorp.com.sg.
Continue reading...