I became a widow at 36. Unexpectedly. Tragically.
And yet, here I am five years later - sometimes thriving, sometimes drowning. Just like everyone else, I guess, but maybe a little more intense? The waves are intense. I assume that’s trauma. My therapist says I probably have some level of PTSD.
This space is for honesty - the good and the bad. I want people like me to know they’re not alone. I want you to know that when you’re feeling really bad, that’s okay. And when you’re feeling really good, that’s okay too.
I’ve read stacks of personal development books. I’ve done things I never thought I could -without my husband, or at all. I want to share what I’ve learned, what annoys me, what makes me laugh, and even what’s good about widowhood (I know how that sounds, but this is a safe space).
So let’s start with what’s annoying.
When people asked how I was doing, and I’d say “good,” they didn’t believe me. They would tilt their heads and say, “Really?” Or they just looked confused. I think people expected me to stay locked in a dark room for years.
And it’s annoying that I’m here dealing with lawns, leaky roofs, student loans, and putting our dog down - while he’s off galivanting in whatever world comes next. Honestly, that’s so like him to weasel out of things.
Grief is weird like that. Heavy, absurd, sometimes even funny. But I've learned that even during the drowing, thriving is still an option.
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