Like many other parents, I have packed up the car this week with Ikea pans and Aldi bedsheets, and driven for three hours to unload at Halls of Residence and be sent on my merry way within mere seconds, because my son no longer needs me and can do it himself.

And like many other parents, I got a photo of a hob and a saucepan a few hours later with a caption reading “Can I boil water in this?”

I was expecting tears (from me, obvs) as I looked in the rear view mirror at the Newcastle smog and left my first-born child on the brink of independence and manhood. But as I drove home, (well his dad drove us home as I am a terrible driver with nine points) I felt relief. 

Does that sound awful? Probably. But stay with me.

I lost my mum this summer. One of the best things she did for me was taking me to uni in 1996 when halls were hovels with silverfish in the carpet and you shared a bathroom and kitchen with 30. But, hey, I got a grant to go and didn’t pay tuition fees so you can’t moan. I opened the door to my cell from home, and mum saw my face fall at the ratty, falling apart furniture and nicotine yellow walls.

“Right, come on” She said, ripping open a box “Let’s get your posters on the walls and make it look like home.”

And together we did – candles, incense sticks and Radiohead posters a go-go. 

I was desperate to help my son do the same – even though the rooms are substantially less of a health hazard these days. But he didn’t want me there.

But I didn’t feel sad. 

I was a nervous wreck at 18. Terrified of not making friends, not being clever enough for my course, being homesick for my mum and sister. 

My son has none of these hang-ups. And if I did one thing right as a parent, it was not passing this on. In a generation of anxiety and mental health decline, lack of resilience and dare I say it – entitlement (I am a uni professor for my day job, so I see this day to day), somehow my son, despite setbacks, obstacles and challenges), is excited to embrace adulthood. His thirst for independence is a fire. 

In tarot, I had thought of this moment as the death card. Endings to make way for new beginnings, releasing what no longer serves you, profound change and new cycles.

But it isn’t. It’s successful completion, wholeness, freedom, joy, achieving goals after a difficult journey. 

It’s The World.

I’m so proud of you kid.