I like to think of my love story as inspirational: he made me feel like the center of the universe and reminded me each and everyday of how much he loved me. I felt confident, honoured and beautiful. Many times I’d pinch myself because it felt too good to be true. I was adored and my needs were anticipated and completed without even having to utter a word. He managed to see positivity even in my imperfections and made me feel desired even on days when I felt less than my best self.
Can anyone imagine how a 36 year old would feel when their husband died? Like others around me I too assumed I’d live a lifetime with my partner but it didn’t come true. My world collapsed, a tragedy occurred that shattered life as I knew. He was gone. He who made me feel alive simply by his existence was now no more.
On the day he left me, it felt isolating, even though I was surrounded by the love of my family, in-laws, and friends. I became selective about who to share my story with and who all to talk about my grief too. Even then, I wasn’t able to pour out all my pain. I felt broken and it felt so raw for the first few days.
Today I don’t even know if am missing him or if the grief is for what I’ve lost and what I have gone through. Maybe am grieving the dreams i had for my life with him that will no longer be able to come true. And it’s really hard. I don’t even know if it’s about him or is it about me.
From all the videos I watched and all the advise I received from friends and family, I realised grief was just following me because it wasn’t done with me. It leaves when it’s done and you don’t have a choice but to have to take the time to feel it all. Don’t let it run after you. Instead just sit with it, listen to it and respect it as it’s the only way to survive it I guess.
That was a difficult subject to learn. I realised no amount of faking it would get me through the darkest of days. Trust me, I tried for so long initially. I endeavoured to disguise the suffering of being rocked to my core. I pretended I could just get together all the pieces of my shattered heart and carry on like I wasn’t just barely pulling through.
There was a time I thought a makeover would make me hurt less. But no matter how beautiful I made the outside, my eyes – still revealed my sadness.
I eventually understood my grief not only had to be welcomed in, but it needed to be given a forum. I chose writing as my channel. I had to vent out the hurt, bitterness, fears, anger, sadness, insecurities, uncertainties, frustrations that continued to whirl through my heart and mind.
So I wrote. I shared the guilt of not being when my husband took his last breath, the anger I had towards God for allowing the man I’d married to be taken much too soon, the fear of being alone and the heartbreak of being widowed before I was prepared to say goodbye.
I questioned myself as to why I chose to share my story on a public forum. I got my answer from a quote by Iyanla Vanzant, “When you stand and share your story in an empowering way, your story will heal you, and your story will heal someone else.”
We’re not alone in our grief or pain. The important thing is: no matter how alone you may feel, there is always someone who will say, “Me too.” There are people whose story may not be like yours, but who understand the agony of losing a partner. My advice to all of you is talk about your pain and tell your story because the person who heals the most might be you.