Becoming an Adult Without Your Parents

I lost my mother before I entered one of the biggest transitions of my life: becoming an adult.

Two years ago, I moved to a new city to start college. It was a twelve-hour journey away from my hometown, a place where everything felt familiar, where I knew who to turn to when things became difficult.

But this time, I had to figure everything out by myself.

I had to learn how to cook my own meals, wake up without hearing my mother's voice, manage my own problems, and make decisions without being able to ask, "What do you think I should do?"

People often talk about adulthood as a journey toward independence. But no one talks about the grief of becoming independent without the person you always imagined would be there to see it.

My first meal in my new city was nasi goreng.

It was simple, but I still remember how imperfect it was. I mixed the egg directly with the rice, and the texture became sticky and clumpy. Later, I learned that the egg should be cooked separately first. It was such a small thing, but moments like that reminded me of all the little lessons I never realized my mother had quietly taught me.

I learned that sinks need to be cleaned before they become covered in stains. I learned how to iron every piece of my own clothes. I learned how to navigate a new city, build friendships, and solve problems on my own.

I wish I could say, "Mom, look. I can do it now."

When I was overwhelmed by academic pressure and burnout, I didn't need someone to fix my problems. I just wanted a hug. I wanted the comfort of knowing that someone who loved me unconditionally was there.

There were moments when I reached for my phone because something exciting happened. I wanted to tell her about my day, my friends, my achievements, and all the little things that made college feel like home.

But then I remembered.

I couldn't.

That is the unique pain of growing up without a parent.

It is not only missing the person from your past.

It is missing the person you imagined would be part of your future.

Psychologist Ronnie Janoff-Bulman described this experience through the concept of the loss of the assumptive world. We all carry invisible beliefs about how life is supposed to happen. We assume our parents will watch us graduate, celebrate our achievements, meet the person we love, and be there when we create a family of our own.

We rarely question these assumptions because they feel natural.

Until life changes them.

Losing my mother meant losing not only her presence, but also the future moments I thought we would share.

I imagined telling her about my first paycheck.

I imagined buying her a lipstick with my own money.

I imagined introducing her to the person I love.

I imagined her sitting somewhere in the crowd during my graduation.

Maybe that is why grief can appear even during happy moments. Because happiness can remind us of who we wish was there to witness it.

But as I grow older, I realize that becoming an adult without my mother does not mean becoming an adult without her influence.

The way I make decisions, the values I carry, and the person I am becoming are all shaped by the love she gave me.

She may never see me become the person I am today. But the person I am today exists because of her. Maybe healing is not about learning how to live without someone. Maybe it is learning how to carry someone with you into a future they will never physically see. Because sometimes, the hardest part of growing up is not becoming independent. It is reaching a moment of success and still wishing you could turn around and say: "Mom, look how far I've come."

Kharrisa Sri Rahayu

I founded Griefya because I needed a place where grief could simply exist. A place where life slows down, emotions are seen without judgment, and healing is not a solitary journey, but one held by compassion, understanding, and the presence of others.