When the Lamp Isn’t Needed Anymore: A reflection on parenting transitions, quiet grief, and finding meaning in the in-between

Lynn Cukaj
Jul 16
4 min read

By Lynn Cukaj, ATR-BC, MHC-LP www.CreativeExpressionsConsulting.com

Art Therapy for Children, Teenagers and Adults

Lately, I’ve been feeling a kind of loneliness that brunch plans or a group text can’t fix. It’s quieter than that—something that flickers under the surface. Some days, it feels like a loss of rhythm. Other days, it feels like a loss of self.

My kids are grown now—college and beyond. The daily chaos is gone. No more packed lunches, permission slips, or late-night reminders about forgotten homework. The calendar that once ruled my life is now mostly blank. I thought I’d enjoy this freedom. I imagined I’d be thrilled to finally have time that was fully mine. But if I’m honest… I miss being needed. I miss being the one who held it all together.

It’s a strange feeling to ache for the days that wore me out.

The Lamp Metaphor

A friend once asked what this phase of life feels like, and the best I could come up with was this:“I feel like a lamp.”

For over 20 years, I stood quietly in the corner, shining when someone needed me. I was the steady presence—the warmth, the soft glow at the end of a long day. Now? It feels like I’ve been unplugged and moved to the basement. Still intact. Still functional. Just… not needed in the same way.

There’s a grief in that. Not a dramatic, falling-to-the-floor grief. But a slow, subtle ache that lives in the background of daily life. I love my children deeply. I celebrate their independence. And yet, there’s this hollow space that no hobby or workday fully fills.

So What Now?

People say things like “Why don’t you go back to work?” or “Now’s the time for your passions!”I smile. I nod. And I do have work, and passions, and a meaningful life. But the shift still stings. Because for two decades, my purpose was so clear. And now, even with joy around me, there’s a quiet question that lingers:

Who am I when no one needs me every day?

If you’ve ever felt this too, you’re not alone. These transitions are tender. They ask us to release one identity before a new one has fully taken shape. But there are ways to process the in-between—creative tools that help us stay grounded as we move forward.

Creative Tools for Easing Parenting Transitions

These aren’t about “fixing” anything. They’re about making space for your feelings, honoring your story, and gently reminding yourself that you're still shining—even if the room has changed.

1. “Dear Future Me” Journal Letters

Each week, write a short letter to the version of you who’s a little further down the road. Track how you're feeling, what you’re noticing, what you hope to remember.

Try this prompt:Dear Future Me,This week was quiet. I missed the sound of doors opening after school. But a phone call brought laughter—and that reminded me: connection remains, even when routines fade.

2. Shadow Box of Seasons

Create a small visual timeline of your parenting life using mementos:

A baby sock for spring
A summer camp photo or scribbled calendar
A college drop-off boarding pass
A winter candle stub and a tea tag that reads, “Be still and know.”

Let it remind you: every season matters. Winter is not the end—it’s just part of the cycle.

3. “I Am Still Needed” Collage

Cut out images, quotes, or words that reflect how your presence still matters.Ideas to include:

A sticky note that says “Mom, how do I…?”
A pet waiting by the door
Words like: Witness. Anchor. Encourager.
A glowing symbol—a halo, a light, a spark.

Let your collage become a visual affirmation of your ongoing importance.

4. Voice Memo Reflections

Some nights, record a 2-minute voice note on your phone. Talk about how you’re really doing—unedited and unfiltered.

Example:"It’s 9:12 p.m. I haven’t talked to anyone in person today. I miss being interrupted. I miss the chaos. But I’m still here—still me."

Over time, you’ll hear growth in your voice. You’ll hear your strength, too.

5. “Lamp Stories” Writing Prompt

Use metaphor to explore your identity. Write from the perspective of a lamp once used every day in a busy household.

Prompt idea:Once, I stood in the family room, clicked on at sunset. Now I sit in a quiet corner. But I still glow—steady and patient—waiting for the next chapter to unfold.

Final Thoughts

If you feel like a lamp that’s no longer needed, let me say this: your light still matters. Just because the people who once relied on your glow aren’t near every day doesn’t mean they don’t carry your warmth with them.

The room may have changed. The pace may have slowed. But you're still here—still shining.

And maybe, just maybe, this is the season where you begin to light up for yourself.

For more therapeutic activities and resources on how to incorporate Art Therapy into your life, read more from Lynn's Creative Expressions Blog.

Learn more about Art Therapy and Lynn Cukaj, Board Certified Art Therapist here: www.CreativeExpressionsConsulting.com