It’s so hard to be real with yourself sometimes. It just is. You can put on a front that everything is peaches and cream. There’s always a silver lining. But sometimes there’s not. Sometimes the silver lining takes awhile to appear. Or it appears in a form you don’t recognize right away.
I catch myself putting up this wall or maybe better described- persona of an independent bad ass. I often show this side to people who don’t know me. Who aren’t aware that I’m a widow. It’s my way of saying I’ve overcome that dark place and look at me now. Stronger than ever.
I might be stronger. I’m sure I am. But definitely not bad ass. I sometimes cry at anything and everything. I tell people too much about my personal life and I unload on strangers or people I think I can trust. Most of those people have a shocked look on their face. I don’t tell them my story to get sympathy. I tell them my story so they really know me. But can I really define myself as just a widow? Who am I actually…
I’m a girl who loves chinese food, quotes and dreams of travelling. I’m weird because I’m not Indian but I love Indian music even though I have absolutely no idea what they are singing about. I love to read and be alone. I love my family. I tend to be emotional. My hero is Steve Irwin and nothing Jane Austen ever wrote was bad. I have a dog and I talk to him like he can understand English. I love the zoo and ice cream.
Why don’t I tell people those things? Probably because I sometimes forget who I am I guess. I based my life around a person I loved. I devoted my being to him. And now it’s just me. Sometimes it’s weird. And sometimes it’s sad. Most of the time I look at my life as the glass half full.
Honestly I am trying to rediscover myself and what makes me happy. I’m now trying to be real with people. Yes I am a widow. But no you don’t need to know the details to be my friend. Yes I will be honest with you. But you don’t need to know all my moments before and after it happened. Yes most of the time I’m happy. But sometimes I’m angry that he’s gone. Sometimes I’m sad that everything around me reminds me of him. Sometimes I have really bad nights. Sometimes I am lonely. It’s a void nobody can fill. I know people who have lost a spouse, child or parent can relate. It’s hard. Stop trying to please everyone around you and just be real. Be the real you. The messy sloppy you. Because that’s what life is anyways isn’t it? It’s beautiful and ugly. Happy and sad. The people who really want to get to know you and love you will understand. They will have patience. They will wait for you to heal. They will be there to help you. And most of all, they won’t ask you questions you don’t want to answer because they understand you and they care about you.