Parenting Adult Children: Shifting Roles Can Be a Positive

At this point in life, we’ve all weathered change. It’s inescapable that as time passes, what was, isn’t always what will be. And for anyone with kids, those of us in the work world, or even those of us who may have step-kids or even grandchildren, shifting roles when parenting adult children can throw us for a loop.

For us, this often takes center-stage during a phone call with our out-of-state adult children. We feel the ground shifting as one of them speaks, and my husband and I exchange a glance. The child you once buckled into a carseat is now telling you the finer points of office politics or the best strategies for landing a cheap airline fare. The roles don’t fully reverse, but the lines do begin to blur.

The challenge begins

This can be a tricky moment, the balance between adding our two-cents and becoming active listeners. Sometimes we succeed. Often, we fail. But there are things to keep in mind as you navigate your new or evolving role with adult children, or even coworkers.

Maybe you don’t have kids, or you have grown step-kids but you just learned your new manager at work is decades younger than you. It’s startling. There’s just something about this shift, from advice-giver to listener, that can be amazingly challenging.

Adult children: Let silence be your guide

From our experience, our kids’ silence is our best way of knowing we’ve made a misstep. One of us will go off on a tangent about various sites we check for airline pricing and how we’ve read Tuesdays are always the cheapest day to buy. Then . . . nothing. Silence.

For so long, the advice has flowed in one direction. Now, it can feel like the river’s switched course. I think the biggest shift is younger generations are proving to us that knowledge and insight are no longer tied to age. Sure, we will always know more about decades of marriage, aging, maybe even how to get the best price on a new car. But there’s a boldness that comes from so much information, available 24/7, to any age group, that the pure knowledge gap really is closing. At least on some topics.

Younger generations have a wisdom all their own

Younger generations aren’t afraid to question the systems we were told not to rock. They’re leaving toxic jobs rather than enduring them. They’re moving to cities or countries that feed their spirit. They’re crafting chosen families. They’re saying no to what doesn’t serve them, and yes to joy, even when it’s unconventional. That’s not selfishness. That’s wisdom. And it’s somehow gleaned without advanced age.

It can be disorienting to witness these shifts, especially when they don’t reflect the choices we might have made. But this is where growth as a parent continues—by recognizing that they are not a reflection of our lives, they are the authors of their own. Our job is no longer to edit their story. It’s to be curious about it, to cheer for it, and to understand that our presence matters more than our opinion.

Visiting adult children

When we visit our adult children in their homes, whether it’s a tiny apartment, a rented room, or a place they share with friends or partner, we enter their domain. It’s a sacred space, even if it’s cluttered or imperfect or nothing like how we’d do it. Holding our tongue about the mismatched furniture or how they store the spices is a form of respect. Our silence, in those moments, is a gift. It says: I see you. I accept this version of you. I’m not here to correct, I’m here to connect.

That doesn’t mean we stop offering insight altogether. But we offer it the way we’d want a good friend to offer it. With consent, with gentleness, and with the awareness that it might not be needed at all. And we can ask more questions than we answer. How did you come to that decision? What do you love most about living here? What’s been hard? What are you proud of? In doing so, we invite them to reveal themselves—not to impress us, but to be known by us.

Shifting from a guide to a witness

This season of motherhood isn’t about stepping back entirely. It’s about shifting our presence from a guide to a witness. Our love is still needed, but its shape has changed. Our support is still essential, but it might now look like holding space rather than holding answers.

And here’s the secret no one tells you: when you stop trying to parent and start trying to relate, your relationship can grow into something even richer. You’ll see them more clearly. And they’ll see you—not just as “Mom,” but as a whole person who’s still learning, still evolving, still open to change.

The stage before caregiver

So the next time you step into your adult child’s space, take a breath. Notice how they’ve arranged their world. Resist the urge to fix or suggest. Smile at their choices, their quirks, their boldness. And remember, the greatest gift we can give them now is not our direction, it’s our respect. After all, they’re probably pretty great. We raised them!

There’s a lot written about adult children stepping into the role of caregiver. But if we’re lucky, there will be a long period of time in between parenting our kids and needing care from our kids. This is the golden period. This is the time when we can usually take a breath, relax a bit, knowing they’ve got it.

Our role with adult children can be that of observer

This isn’t to say we will agree with all their decision. Or, at times, even understand them. It’s actually more a recognition that we’ve had absolutely no role in their decisions. At least not directly. We maybe don’t get the call asking us what we think about their new girl or boyfriend. Where we’d once be queried about a career shift or a job change, we now get the call the change has been made.

Like so much in life, our reaction to this shift directly affects our relationship with our now-adult kids, and it also affects our feelings about having been left out of the decision loop.

Final thoughts

After decades of making our own and their potentially life-altering decisions, I suggest it’s a chance to take a breath. Bask a bit in the freedom that comes from being in charge of only your life. And recognizing that the wisdom we’ve imparted has been assimilated. Now, it’s our kids’ turn to get in the driver’s seat of their own lives. And we can finally realize just how refreshing it can be to take in the sights, without needing to navigate, from the comfort of the back seat.