I Almost Didn't Worldschool - Why I Left My Daughter at Home

I almost cancelled our worldschooling trip when my 14-year-old Layal said she didn't want to go. Here's what I learned about leaving, about trusting her, and why you might need to, too.

Nesrin and Layal saying goodbye for 6 weeks

What do you do when the trip you've been dreaming about for years means leaving someone you love behind? I'll tell you what I almost did. I almost cancelled the whole thing.

When we first started planning our six weeks worldschooling at The Hive Adventure in the Dominican Republic, the plan was always that we would all go. All five of us. Me, my husband Baraa, and our three kids. That was the dream I had been holding onto since my kids were little. One family, one adventure, all of us together. But then my 14-year-old Layal sat me down and told me she didn't want to go. And everything I thought I knew about this trip came undone.

I Have Traveled With Her Since She Was a Week Old

Here is the thing you have to understand. Layal has been my travel partner since she was one week old. I took her to Point Reyes in a baby carrier when she was one week into the world. I have hiked with her, camped with her, packed her in the van with us for road trips across the country, flown with her, sat with her on long airport floors, passed her snacks across state lines. Of all my kids, she is the one whose entire childhood has been woven through our travels. I almost cancelled the whole trip right there.

What Layal Actually Needed

Before I let myself spiral, Baraa and I sat down and really talked about it. And what I had to face, slowly, with a lot of tears, was that my daughter was telling me something real.

She wasn't rejecting the trip. She wasn't rejecting us. She was telling me what she needed, and as her mama, my job was to listen. What mattered to Layal most was her program. Her school. Her friends. The structure she had built that made her feel like herself. At 14, she had a life that was finally feeling like it belonged to her and being pulled from it for six weeks would have cost her something real. She wasn't being difficult. She was being honest. And that is the part that hurt the most. Because part of me wanted her to want to come. Part of me wanted her to need me the way she needed me when she was three weeks old in that baby carrier at Point Reyes. But at 14, she doesn't need me in that way anymore. She needs me in a different way. She needs me to trust her.

What Baraa Said

I was still so hesitant. Still so unsure. Baraa knows how long I had been wanting this since our kids were little. He knew this dream had been quietly waiting in the background for years.

And then he said something I have thought about every single day since.

He told me: if any time is the time, it's now. The kids are only getting older. He said he would work from home alongside Layal. He said it would actually be great bonding for the two of them.

I thought the same thing he did about the bonding. But I was still so hesitant. So scared. So unsure if I could actually do it.

The Airport

I won't lie to you about the airport. It was awful. We were all tearing up at the curb. At TSA. Again at the gate. My 11-year-old Raya was sobbing because she was going to miss her big sister. Layal was trying to be brave for all of us. I was trying to be brave for everyone. Baraa was trying to hold it all together for the three of us flying and the one of us staying. I almost turned around. Truly. I stood at the security line with my boarding pass in my hand and thought, what am I doing? Who does this? Who leaves their child? But I didn't turn around. I kept walking. I kept going. I got on the plane.

What Those Six Weeks Gave All of Us

Here is what I didn't see coming. I thought the hardest part would be missing Layal. And I did miss her every single day so much that it hurt. I would see something beautiful in the Dominican Republic and my first thought was always Layal would love this. I would reach for my phone to text her something, or to FaceTime her before bed, and it would hit me all over again that she was not with us. But what surprised me was how much all of us grew in those six weeks. In ways I was worried we wouldn't be able to bridge when I came home.I was nervous on the flight, going to another country solo — even though I've done it before when I went to Palestine. But the nerves were still there. A big part of me was missing. I tried to stay positive, thinking ahead and knowing that Layal and her father would bond, just like Raya, Hasan, and I would have our own special bonding experience.

My Younger Two Stretched in Ways They Never Would Have at Home

Raya, my cautious, observant one, became bolder. She tried things at The Hive Adventure she never would have tried in California. Hasan, my wild card at 6, just lived his best life in a way only young kids can. Both of them got a version of me that was present not tired-present, not juggling-a-thousand-things-present, but actually there with them. I hadn't realized how depleted I was running on back home until I wasn't anymore.

I Remembered Who I Was

The low-grade exhaustion I had been carrying for years? It lifted. The version of me who loved adventure, who noticed wildflowers, who could sit on a hillside and watch the sky change she was still in there. I had been missing her.

The Surprise Waiting at Home

I was terrified that Baraa and Layal wouldn't understand what had shifted in me and the kids. That we would feel like two families who had grown in different directions. That the re-entry would be impossible. Here is the miracle: When we came home, Baraa and Layal told us they had experienced the same thing. Six weeks of just-her-and-dad had been its own transformation. Their relationship had deepened in a way only that kind of one-on-one time can create. Layal had grown up not physically, but in the way kids do when they get more space to be themselves. They had done grocery runs together. Movie nights. Real talks. They had bonded in a way that would not have happened if I had been there. All four of us had grown. In different directions. But toward each other.

If You Are Sitting Where I Was

If you are sitting with a trip you want to take worldschooling or otherwise and someone in your family can't or doesn't want to come, please read this part carefully.

You do not have to choose between your dream and your family.

You can honor both. You can leave. You can come back. And the leaving can be what actually brings you closer.

The Window Is Closing

Here is what Baraa said that I want to pass along to every mama reading this: The kids are only getting older. The window for this kind of travel whatever shape it takes for your family is not going to stay open. My younger two were young enough at 6 and 11 to be shaped by six weeks abroad. In five years, they will have their own Layal-style reasons for staying. Their own programs, friends, lives that matter to them in ways I need to honor. This trip was the right trip, at the right time, with the right kids. And for the kid I left at home, staying was the right call for her, at the right time, with the right parent. Both things were true at the same time.

If You Want to Try What I Tried without the Full Leap

After I came home, I could not stop thinking about how many mamas need the permission I gave myself. So I built the Worldschooling Intro Trip — a curated, one-week group experience at the exact place we fell in love with, The Hive Adventure in Cabrera. Long enough for you to taste what this lifestyle can feel like. Short enough that leaving home for it does not break anything. It's for the mama sitting exactly where I sat a year ago. The one with the dream and the complicated logistics and the kid who isn't sure. The one wondering if she can do this. You can. And I will be there to guide you through it.