Dear Queenie,
I need advice about something that makes me sound worse than I think I am. My daughter recently received a full scholarship to study in the Netherlands. We are proud. Beyond proud. She worked hard for this. Here is the problem: I don’t want her to go. I tell everyone how excited I am. I post the congratulations. I smile at church. But inside, I am grieving, and I am also afraid. Sint Maarten is small. The world is not. Once our children leave, they often do not come back. Or they come back changed. Or they decide there is “more opportunity” elsewhere. I built my life here. My parents are here. Our traditions are here. I don’t want to become one of those parents who waits for FaceTime calls twice a year. Part of me also worries about who she will become. Different values. Different culture. Different expectations. What if she decides she has outgrown us? I know this sounds selfish. I raised her to be ambitious. Now she is. Am I wrong for wishing she would choose home over opportunity? —Proud but Afraid
Dear Proud but Afraid,
You are not wrong for feeling this way. You are a parent. Sending a child to the United States right now does not feel simple. The political climate is loud. The headlines are unsettling. Social divisions feel sharper. From the safety of our small island, it can look chaotic and unpredictable. So yes, this is about distance. But it is also about fear. In Sint Maarten, family is close, physically and emotionally. We are used to proximity, to knowing where our children are and who they are with. The U.S. feels vast by comparison. Different laws. Different culture. Different pace. It can feel like sending your child into a storm. But here is the truth: opportunity often lives beyond comfort. Your daughter earned this scholarship. That means she is capable. Prepared. Intelligent. The world she is entering is not only political noise, it is also classrooms, mentors, friendships, ideas, and growth. It is natural to worry she may change. She will. Growth always brings change. The real question is whether change means disconnection. It does not have to. What creates distance is not geography. It is guilt. If she senses that her leaving disappoints you, she may carry that weight. If she feels supported, she will carry home with her. You can acknowledge your fear without placing it on her shoulders. Tell her you are proud. Tell her you are nervous. Tell her you will miss her. Those truths can coexist. You raised her to step into the world. Do not shrink that world now because it feels larger than you imagined. Home is not lost when a child leaves. It is tested, and often strengthened. Let her go knowing she carries you with her. —Queenie
