Her accolades and accomplishments are enough to make her worthy of adoration: an attorney, a First Lady, a bestselling author. But it’s her as a mother that I relate to most. Her watchful eye, her quiet guidance and that obvious pride in her children. She did what I hope to do: raise people so comfortable in who they are that they can withstand the judgmental gaze of the ignorant.

At a time when women can’t seem to be truthful about how their faces or bodies have aged, how frustrating it is to watch our rights regress or how hard balance really is to achieve, her recent honesty about what it’s like to be a mother after years of caretaking was refreshing to hear.

When talking with TV host Jon Stewart last week, the former First Lady said, “I’m good,” when he lamented the end of the parenting journey.

When asked if she missed having her daughters at home, she replied, “I don’t miss them. I don’t. I love them. I’m going to see them tonight for dinner. I love them.”

She went on to joke about how her husband, Barack, cried when their daughters went to college.

“I was like, ‘Bye, little. Goodbye,'” she said. “Now Friday nights aren’t wrecked with terror and fear about, ‘Where are you? Where are you?'”

Stewart responded that he loved the kids’ schedules, and she said, “I love my schedule.”

A response only a person who had the most intense, central role on the field, complete with a bloody jersey, missing tooth — sweaty, smelly and shaking — could make. The MVP.

With a 17-year-old daughter at home, I understand her sentiment.

I am wide awake until I hear those keys meet the door. I understand the particular brand of anxiety that comes with loving someone who is old enough to drive, make questionable decisions and disappear into the night, but still young enough to need you.

And from that, some people have apparently decided Michelle Obama resents her daughters.

A reaction caused by the lost art of tongue-in-cheek humor replaced with clenched sphincters and pearl clutching.

Recognizing what was sacrificed is not resentment, it’s pride in the good choice you made.

I wanted to stay home.

I remember telling Brian, with all the hubris only a 20-year-old who had babysat her nephew for two whole nights could muster, that I knew exactly what was right. I was so sure I knew the best option without fully understanding not only the time commitment, but the mental and financial one too.

Hindsight is 20/20 and I was lucky to get to make that choice.

I always kept my foot in the door, freelancing at various news stations, writing for this wonderful paper and eventually landing a part-time job for a place I was born and raised to love. It was a challenge and it felt good rebuilding a piece of me I thought I’d left behind.

Recently I faced the reality that my children need me around a little less and want me around a little less. My options were to drown in the anonymity of being a mother of teenagers or forge a new path.

Recognizing I could let some things go by while adding more responsibility and trust to my kids, I’ve got back to full-time work.

My own agenda is now at the forefront with the family’s a close second. I’m back to using the skills I built in a newsroom.

And somehow, being more fulfilled in my own life has made me more present in theirs. I can be there fully plugged in, rather than tuned out because I’ve already spent the entire day around these people

I think that’s what Michelle Obama’s excitement is about.

She get to return a space she carved out before kids and family, a purpose that adds another element to who she is as a person.

Michelle Obama is many things and now I get a chance to be many things.

I loved my time being the steady hand in my kids’ lives. I loved being the person they could count on while they were learning how to navigate the world. But now they’re building their own lives. They’re testing the waters, making decisions and, hopefully, testing some of the things I spent all those hours teaching them.

I’ll step back into the world and appreciate something I had forgotten how much I valued:

Autonomy.

Motherhood isn’t something we ever leave behind, it simply starts looking different. We’re in the periphery until we’re called upon again, enjoy the excitement of raising responsible adults while also discovering what comes next for ourselves.

I loved the years when my children needed me for everything.

I love that they need me for different things now.

And I’m excited to see what happens when they no longer need me quite so much. My Friday nights can go back to being mine and every once in a while, have my kids worry about when I’m going to get home.