Empty Nester Parents: What If YOU Went Back to College? | EP153

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When your kid goes back to school, it can stir up more than we expect.

They’re stepping into a new semester — new classes, new routines, new conversations — while you’re left asking a quieter question:

What about me?

In this episode of Encore Living, I explore a simple but powerful idea:

What if, instead of trying to figure out the rest of your life, you thought of this season as your own semester?

Not literally going back to college. No dorms. No degrees. No student loans.

But borrowing the way college actually works — experimenting, changing your mind, learning as you go — and applying it to midlife.

In this episode, I talk about three things college already taught us, and how they can bring relief right now:

• Why declaring a major doesn’t have to be permanent
• Why dropping a class isn’t failing — it’s information
• And why you’re allowed to have at least one thing you love in your life again

If you’re a parent or empty nester who’s feeling stuck, restless, or quietly wondering what’s next — this episode is for you.

As I mention in the episode, your kid isn’t trying to solve their entire future this semester.

They’re focused on the next few months. And maybe you’re allowed to do the same.

Here’s a simple question to sit with after listening:

If the next 15 weeks were your semester… what would you explore?

Not what would impress anyone. Not what would make sense on paper.

Just what feels worth showing up for.

P.S. If someone came to mind while you were listening to this episode, feel free to share it with them. Sometimes the most helpful thing we can say is, “You’re not late — you’re just in a new semester.”

You can find me here:

Dr. Thor on Instagram @drthor.tv
Dr. Thor on TikTok @drthor.tv

Website: https://drthor.tv/

Transcript

Framing The New Semester

Dr. Thor Challgren 0:00

So the holidays are over. Your kid is back at school. They're stepping into a new semester with new classes, new routines, new conversations, so much going on. You know what they're probably not thinking about? The rest of their life. They're thinking about what they're learning right now, what they're doing right now, the fun they're having right now. And when I was thinking about this back to school season, a thought occurred to me. What if we as parents also went back to school? Like, what if you went back to college yourself? I mean, not literally, I don't think. No dorm, no degree, no student loans. But what if you let yourself imagine being a student again? Because in this episode, I want to share three things I think college already taught us, things we tend to forget, and that might be kind of helpful right now. In this episode, let's talk about going back to college. Metaphorically, of course. You spent years being an awesome parent. You were so good you could have won an Academy Award for best supporting parent. Cut to present day. The kids are grown, the script is gone, and you're thinking, what's this part I'm playing now? Yeah, I get that. I had a 20-year career as a writer in Hollywood. All the while, I was the stay-at-home dad who did it all. Carpool, homework, soccer coach, girl scout leader. Then one day, my daughter left for college, and for me, it felt like the screen went dark. Like my life got canceled mid-season. That's when it hit me. Life wasn't over. I was just in between seasons. Now I'm a published author, pedx speaker, and a new thought minister. I'm an OG fan of the original Superman movie, can't pass up a good mox allen. Yeah, I'm the dad who ran a Girl Scout troop for 13 years, so I'm kind of an easy mark at cookie season. Every week I'll share fun, inspiring, and practical strategies to help you start over. Straight from someone who's been there. Welcome to Encore Living. Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, good wherever you are, whenever you are. Welcome back to Encore Living. I'm Dr. Thor. If you're new here, this is a place where we talk honestly about life after certain chapter shifts, especially the ones where everyone assumes you're fine. Okay, so today, not a pep talk. I don't think, unless I end up needing one myself. It's not about reinventing your whole life, it's about thinking about your own life, but through the frame, the lens, of being in college, of being a student. So this idea of you going back to college, let's actually play with that for a minute. There was a movie years ago with Rodney Dagerfield, I think it was called Back to School, and it was about Rodney as a successful businessman who went back to college and kind of a fun but also stupid movie. But this idea made me think of that. So what if, you know, on the day that you take your kid to the airport to go back to school, what if instead of heading home after they leave, you just grabbed your own bag, checked your phone, and realized, oh, hey, you know what? I got a boarding pass too. I'm going back to college. Now, I mean, I know this is kind of a silly metaphor. You're not actually moving into a dorm. You're not going to share a bathroom with 19-year-olds. No one's handing you a student ID with a photo that makes you cringe. Although I don't even know if they use photo IDs and student IDs anymore. Probably not. It's probably just an app now, right? But anyway, the point isn't the dorm. The point is the feeling you get being in college. Thinking of this kind of makes me wonder what it would feel like to have something you were excited about again. Not something you're managing or that you're responsible for, just something you're genuinely passionate and curious about. And before you tell me you've never thought about this, sorry, I don't buy that. You can't tell me that while your kid was applying to schools or talking about where they wanted to go, you didn't have the thought, well, if it were me, here's where I'd go. Maybe you pictured yourself in New York or or Boston or on some Ivy-leaked campus with cool dorms or somewhere sunny where people walked around in the sunshine holding books and feeling inspired. Although I don't know, do they still have books or is it all on iPads now? I don't know. Anyway, you might have had this thought, but then you shut it down because you knew this process wasn't about you. You know, like who do you think you are? You had your turn, this is theirs. But here's the thing: when someone you love is heading into a life that's expanding, kind of opens up the question all right, what am I expanding into? And I'm not asking that to make you feel uncomfortable. I'm asking because what if the answer could be something that you actually like? All right, let's have a little fun with this mom goes back to college idea. In this imaginary vision, you get to go to college. You move into your dorm, lumpy mattress, bad IKEA furniture, terrible food. But wait, you're a parent now. You actually brought better snacks this time. In fact, let's just say that everything you love from Trader Joe's, it's always available whenever you want it. And here's the best part: there's an entire dorm floor for people just like us. It's like the midlife parents floor, empty nesters, people in transition, people who were doing fine, but also sort of not fine. This is not the no visitors after 10 floor. This is the floor where sweatpants, completely acceptable. Wine appears after dinner, or maybe even with dinner. Everyone has some cool life story, and nobody's trying to impress anyone. This is also the floor where at least once an hour you hear someone say, you know, I love my spouse, but and everyone's like, Yeah, I get that. Now, since we're making this up, here's what really matters about this floor. Everyone is really supportive, almost like bizarrely. So, like if you say something out loud, something half-form, something you're not even sure you believe yet, instead of people poking holes in it, people say things like, Oh, I love that. Or, oh my gosh, you would be so amazing at that. Nobody laughs, nobody minimizes, nobody says, Yeah, but they're just like, Yeah, that's so you. It's the kind of place where you might say, This might be silly, but I've always wanted to try. And then you are describing it, someone jumps in and says, What? No, that's not silly. Or you say, I don't even know why I want this, and someone's like, You don't need a reason. This is the floor where encouragement is the default, where possibility, you know, is met with encouragement and not skepticism. And maybe, if you're being honest, this is where the fantasy ends. Because you might be thinking, I don't have people like that in my life. Or, you know, the people in my life mean well, but they don't really talk like this. And that's okay. That's exactly why we're imagining it this way. Because before you can build a life that feels supportive, you gotta remember what support actually feels like. You have to experience, even it's just in your imagination, what it's like to say what you want out loud and not have it immediately talked down. This is the floor where people say things like, I thought I'd feel better by now. Or they say, I miss parts of myself I forgot about. Or, a big one, I don't know what's next. And nobody rushes in to fix it. Nobody tells you to just get over it. They just let it be said. Because sometimes the first step is not a solution. Sometimes what helps is just being around people who don't make you feel weird for being, you know, human. And that feeling, that sense of being believed in, that's not unrealistic. It's a clue. So yeah, this is a silly picture. We all know you're not actually moving into a dorm. I mean, if you are, I want to know, DM me. This is interesting. But here's the real question: is the desire behind it silly? That desire to, you know, laugh more, to feel connected again, to open a new chapter without needing to justify it, to have a little adventure back in your life, to feel like your life belongs to you again. Is that silly or is it just unfamiliar? So, yeah, like I said, your kid isn't trying to solve their entire life right now, figure out their whole future. They're not asking, who will I be forever? They're thinking about this semester, these classes, these next few months. Most college semesters are what about 15 weeks? That's it. Nobody expects a life-defining transformation in 15 weeks, right? They expect exploration, a little bit of effort, some learning, some adjustment. So I sort of wondering, what if you gave yourself the same thing? What if the next 15 weeks weren't about answers but about learning? What if you stop saying, what should I do with the rest of my life, and instead asked, what do I want to explore this semester? That's a different question, right? And it leads us to the first lesson that I think college already taught us. That first lesson, declaring a major is a starting point, not a life sentence. So when I went to UCLA as an undergrad, I was convinced I was going to film school. That was my plan. That was my whole identity. I was a film student those first two years. And then at the end of that second year, I had to apply and waited for the application to come back, and I discovered I didn't get in. Obviously, I was incredibly bummed. At the time, this felt like a huge failure, a waste of two years of my life. But you know, in time I realized it wasn't all that. And over the summer, I pivoted. When I came back in the fall, I had to pick a major, so I became a history major. And once I actually was in it, like taking the classes, reading the books, talking with all these amazing professors, I realized I actually kind of liked it. I mean, yeah, I was bummed that things didn't work out at first and I had to make up classes that I didn't get those first two years, but I got over it and I moved on to what was next. You probably know this. Students declare a major before they really know what they want to do. A lot of times they might have to do it before they even get to college or in that first year. They have to do that, right? So a lot of times they're just choosing based on a hunch of what they think they might like. And then they get into it and they see what it's like, they learn by doing, and a lot of them change their mind. They change their major. I mean, yeah, they might stress about it like I did a little bit for a time, but then, like I did, they just move on. But in midlife, we treat choosing something like it's permanent, like it's forever. What I'm saying is what if choosing something now is just like declaring a major for the next 15 weeks? Pick something you're interested in and decide that for 15 weeks, that's your major. So that's my first point. Declaring a major is just a starting point, not a life sentence. So the second lesson that college teaches us, dropping a class is not failing. Dropping a class is not failing. So when you're in college, you're allowed to change your mind like all the time. Dropping a class doesn't mean you failed, it means you learned something. Probably that you didn't like that class, or that it was more work than you expected, or that it wasn't as interesting as the catalog made it sound. I mean, assuming they still have catalogs. Oh my God, probably nothing is the same as when I was in college. Or you might drop that class because you've got too many hard classes right now and this just doesn't fit in. Bottom line, when you're in college, dropping a class, it's just a simple decision. But in real life, letting go can feel so loaded, right? I mean, because we don't call it dropping a class, we call it quitting or wasting time or giving up. So we stay enrolled, right? We keep showing up to things that drain us, not because they matter, but because we've always shown up. But letting go isn't weakness, it's responsiveness. It's paying attention to what fits now, not what used to fit. And if you're thinking in semesters instead of lifetimes, this becomes a lot easier. You're not saying I'll never do this again. You're saying, you know what, this doesn't belong in the next 15 weeks. Like, for example, maybe this semester, you drop the class where you finally clean out the garage. Not forever, just not now. Or you drop the class where you say yes to every volunteer role, every extra thing that automatically lands on your plate. Or drop the class where you keep trying to force yourself to love something that you think should be good for you. Or you drop the class where you tell yourself, I should be over this by now. Dropping a class doesn't mean it wasn't important once. It just means it doesn't get a seat this semester. It's not in the classroom right now. So, yeah, college made it okay to drop a class. You don't have to carry everything at the same time to be responsible. Sometimes the most honest thing you can do, lighten your course load. So before I get to that third lesson, let me say this. If this way of thinking is landing for you, if you're feeling a little bit lighter, maybe life can be a little bit more optimistic, this is exactly the kind of reflection I share in my weekly newsletter Encore Living Insider. It's short, usually one idea, one reframe, or one small question to sit with, nothing to fix, nothing to prove, just a place to stay connected to this kind of thinking as you move through your own next semester. You can find the link below in the show notes. Okay, one last point. Lesson three that college teaches us, you're allowed to take one class that you love. Almost everyone had that one class, right? The one you didn't skip, the one you talked about afterwards, where time disappeared. Not because this class is practical, not that it led to anything for your career. It just made you feel alive and engaged. There was a class like that for me at UCLA. I think it was called Intro to Jazz or something like that. It was a class everyone wanted to get in, like all the football players were in that class. And it was cool because basically the professor just sat up front there and played jazz music records, like he had this record collection. He would just play music and you learn stuff about us, and he'd tell us about the musicians and when it was recorded and the significance of it. And you know, with all the other hard classes I had going on at that time, this is the one I looked forward to. Shouldn't life have something like that? You know, somewhere along the way, life began to feel like core requirements where it was all responsibility and what makes sense. But what if this semester you gave yourself permission to take one class you love? I mean, not maybe not literally a class, but do one thing that excites you, one thing that sparks curiosity, or makes you just love life. You don't need a whole new life. You just need one place where you feel interested again. So maybe this isn't starting over. Maybe it's about giving yourself a semester, 15 weeks to learn, to notice, to explore. You don't have to know where it leads, but you do have to enroll. And that's Encore Living. If you like this episode, please consider subscribing to the show. That way you'll always have these conversations waiting for you when a new episode drops on Mondays. And if you haven't already, sign up for the Encore Living newsletter. That's where I share reflections like this one along with what I'm working on next. The link is in the show notes below. Thanks for spending this time with me today. Until next time, take care of yourself.