It is a happy occasion, and this maternal overload of love running through my veins is normal; I tell myself this on repeat. But just like most things in my life, no one showed me how to cope. No one taught me how to navigate these feelings.

My boys are grown up now, and I don’t have a daughter. I tried to understand the difference between nurturing a daughter and a son. The culture I was brought up in definitely defined the difference between the two. I’m not sure if I would have treated a daughter any differently. I would provide the same nurturing I gave my boys. Protected her, loved her, and showed her respect and affection. 

When a daughter marries, you lose a part of her. One day, she leaves your space and enters another. She becomes someone else’s, and you feel somewhat abandoned. I know this because I was a daughter. I watched my parents who dealt with the emotions they fought with a separation. 

Today I stand here as my son has taken the first important step in his long-term relationship; he’s engaged. The hours of planning and thought, the commitment, and the love he holds for her are all packed in the ring she proudly wears. 

I try hard to swallow the heaps of emotions that are blocking my ability to be present. I wasn’t supposed to feel like this; torn apart. I’m happy for him, of course, I want the best for him, for them both. Then why do I feel like I’m losing something that I held so dear to my heart? I’m losing a part of him, as if he’s leaving my space, he’s becoming someone else’s, and now I’ll have to wait in line for his attention. I’m feeling the same feelings parents with daughters feel. Emotionally drained, scared, concerned, and abandoned.

I experienced some of these emotions when he left for college; they became stronger when he moved out into his own home.  Now, I feel as if I’m giving him away for good, just as if I were giving away a daughter. 

I gather myself together and continue admiring him from a distance. My he has grown. The little boy I carried now walks his own walk. His confident demeanor, strong handshake, and wealth of knowledge no doubt awarded him his place in life. I think of how lucky she is to have such a well-grounded gentleman in her life. Someone I nurtured, I taught, and loved. I know he will take care of her. In the end, she is the one who won him over. I don’t discount the fact that she deserves him, but a part of me will always lose him to her. 

I watch her gleaming smile, and I tell myself she, too, is someone’s daughter; she, too, is leaving their space to start a new life. Her parents will give her away, and she’ll walk beside my son. The cycle of life will repeat with them, too. One day, they, too, will feel these exact emotions. 

Unfortunately, these are the cards we parents are dealt. We sacrifice the things we love the most. Just like her ring, my heart will hold his entire childhood, the years of commitment, the endless love, and the mounds of blessings I wish for them both. In the end, when you let them fly on their own, there really is not much difference between a son and a daughter. I want to believe that I am not losing my son, but in fact gaining the daughter I never had.