A good friend of mine likened the process of grief as peeling the layers of an onion. Not that the grief diminishes, it's just that with each phase, or layer, you learn something new and move on. For anyone going through the loss of a life partner, whether it be through bereavement or divorce, it is a significant and traumatic event that shatters your life, future and self-confidence into tiny, heart-wrenching fragments. Here's my story so far and what I've learned.
When Ian died, lots of people kept telling me: 'You're so young - you will find someone else'. They meant well, but I was horrified at the thought. Ian was my soulmate; we met when I was 19, and we were going to grow old together. Why would I now want to be with anyone else? No, I was quite happy being by myself with my memories as company, thank you very much. And, to my shame, I judged other widows who had found happiness with someone else...
Then, quite unexpectedly, I too met someone and realised that being with another man was possible - that it wasn't a case of 'replacing Ian' - I could love again in a new and different way. But the guilt of moving on never left me. It always felt like there were 3 people in that relationship. Fortunately, my partner was incredibly understanding and supportive, and we had a fun-filled 6 years together.
Looking back, I went into that relationship feeling vulnerable and in need of being loved - more than I cared to admit - and I always felt like I was 'Ian's widow'. When we parted ways earlier this year, I emerged feeling stronger from having had that experience. I feel happy to be me - not as anyone's partner, wife or widow - but plain old me. And it feels good! My wedding rings have been removed from my finger and stored carefully with love. There are no shrines to Ian in my home, but pictures of us competing our horses remain on the walls to depict the amazing experiences I had with a very special man. Experiences that form a significant part of my past. And, what really matters is what is in my heart. No-one can ever take my memories away, and no-one will take away the love Ian and I shared.
I feel hopeful about the future. I know now that I can be happy either on my own or with someone new. I am a strong, capable, independent woman either way. I am me, and I no longer feel the same guilt about moving on with my life. Ian helped me to understand the power of opening up my heart and letting someone in - however vulnerable that can make us feel at times. I haven't got here on my own either. I have had, and continue to have, the love of my friends and professional support from counselors and coaches. It's through this professional framework that I have discovered who I really am, and I no longer hold the belief that I am weaker for wanting someone to share my life in the future - it doesn't have to mean I am any less independent (or stubborn!). I don't think many of us can journey through life and take the knocks without professional guidance.
I am ready to seize life in this new phase, single or not, and enjoy living it my way, as me.
I would love to hear your stories of rebuilding your life after a significant event. Please feel able to share.
Kathryn White is owner and director of Cathean Ltd Medical and Copy Writing Services. She is a published medical, copy and equestrian writer with a passion for creating compelling text in collaboration with her clients. Her customers include pharmaceutical, healthcare and equestrian businesses across the world.
After losing my wife, everything changed - all of our friends were just that, friends we had as a couple. Very few of them continued as friends in my new unmarried life.
ReplyDeletePeeling the onion is a good way to state it. To get beyond the grief, you sometimes just need to take each day on its own.
Thank you for sharing - I agree, you do just have to take one day at a time. I'm sorry to hear that your 'friends' didn't hang around and I hope you have found new people in your life who support you.
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