From Helicopter Mom to Trailblazing Hag: Letting Go and Hiking On

So, here’s the thing: Parents—especially those with kids my age—will totally get this. The rest of you, the younger, childless crowd? You’re probably side-eyeing me already, ready to slap a "devil’s spawn" label on my forehead. And honestly? That’s fine. I’m not here to collect popularity points. I’m here for truth, honesty, and unapologetic authenticity. Does this mindset make my life easier? Absolutely not. But let me tell you, living your truth is its own reward. And when you get there (oh, trust me, you will)—you’re going to so relate.

Like most moms, I’ve sacrificed my entire life for my children. Or at least, I hope that’s what moms do—otherwise, I really drew the short straw. My kids are now at that age where, if this were the ‘80s, they’d already be out of the house. But no, it’s not the ‘80s, and kids these days… well, they stick around like houseplants that demand WiFi and their clothes to be washed and ironed..

Hiking stumbled into my life a year or two ago, and BAM—instantly hooked. It’s the only thing that makes me “happy”… well, I say happy. While I’m actually hiking? Nope. It’s just me, trying not to die, cursing under my breath, and wondering why I insist on doing this to myself. But before and after? Oh, I’m practically glowing—grinning like an idiot while blogging, scrolling through photos of the hike I just conquered, or getting ridiculously excited over the one I’m about to willingly suffer through.

Naturally, I spend a lot of time lamenting how much more I could’ve done if I’d started hiking earlier. Imagine—fitter, stronger… PAIN-FREE! I could’ve been parkouring over mountain tops like a fearless gazelle, instead of hobbling up them like an overworked, creaky tin can. But back then, I was too busy on weekends, dealing with the lemons life had hurled at me—dodging some, peeling others and squeezing the rest. So now is my time!!

Yes, Salt and Pepper served a purpose at some point: Once I had my weekends free, they lured me out of the house with their “let’s go for a walk” nonsense. And, of course, that harmless little stroll spiraled into my full-blown obsession—because if there’s one thing I excel at, it’s taking something simple and cranking it up to 11.

For a good while, Salt and Pepper took turns being my hiking companions, which helped me assess my fitness levels and abilities, while boosting my confidence. But, of course, Salt dropped out, leaving Pepper to pick up the slack—though I’m pretty sure he’s plotting his escape.

Meanwhile, I’ve been busy. I joined groups, met new people, and built my own little hiking tribe. So now, let’s face it: Salt and Pepper have become what? Obsolete. That’s right—obsolete. They’ve aged out of usefulness. Sure, they still hang around the house (and get served by me, naturally), but the quid pro quo? Gone. Poof. A relic of the past.

And recently? Proof of my evolution.

Here’s how my week typically goes: Monday and Tuesday, I’m panicking about where and with whom I’ll hike. By Wednesday, hikes and tribes are locked in. Thursday and Friday? I’m practically hyperventilating with excitement (and, you know, maybe doing my job… sort of). And to my supervisor who reads my blogs... aaaw shucks, just kidding. It’s totally work, work, work on my brain until the weekend. Pinky swear. (Yawn).

So, recently, everything was set. Saturday hike, Sunday hike, new places, new adventures. Then, Mother Nature had her tantrum with rain. Didn’t care. Last-minute cancellation by Pepper (tenant who doesn’t pay rent)? Didn’t care. Saturday morning, Salt (another tenant who doesn’t pay rent) had a swollen gum. Didn't care. I went hiking. Sunday morning, Salt was worse, Pepper wasn’t feeling well—still didn’t care. I went hiking again.

Now, I was a helicopter mom, who would have stopped breathing to attend to the needs of my children. But, are they even my children?? I mean...yes...they are mine...but children....nope..they’re fully grown, self-sufficient, &^%$ adults who seriously need to let mommy finally live her best life… for once.

Did I think about them while I was out living my best life? Sure, maybe once or twice. Did they survive without me hovering? Absolutely. Everything turned out just fine, just as it would have if I’d been at home in full helicopter mode.

So, to all the moms out there still attached to your grown kids like an umbilical cord 2.0—hear me out: Let them figure it out. Go hiking, take up skydiving, or adopt a herd of llamas—whatever sparks joy. Because, shockingly, it turns out you can actually live your best life without sacrificing theirs. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself… about 100 times a day… as I step out to live mine.