Rebuilding a New Normal: My Story of Moving Forward After Loss
Finding grace in tragedy.
Seven years ago, I lost my husband unexpectedly. Just a few weeks prior we celebrated fifteen years of marriage. At the time, he was 42 and I was 38.
Tragic doesn’t do the situation justice. Brutal, perhaps.
Fast forward to today, I’m remarried and in a better headspace than ever. The road was rocky, but one that re-built my resilience stone-by-stone, and I’d like to share this insight with anyone who can benefit.
Learning Grace
When you are on the receiving end of “I’m sorry for your loss”, those words take on a different meaning. Yes, of course, people are sorry. But what you learn is the discomfort of dealing with (or talking about) the situation is masked by this tagline.
Of the hundreds of wonderful souls who reached out to share their condolences, only a fraction had meaningful words that weren’t glossed over. Words that made me think, or feel, something besides numb.
You learn grace by accepting others' inability to express emotion.
Spiral or Thrive
As many of you who have experienced loss are aware, there is a usual rallying of friends and family following both the death, then again after the funeral. Casseroles, random acts of kindness, driveby flowers, there is always someone around. But eventually, everyone goes home and you are alone. Finally.
The first hour alone, you savor the quiet of not having people in and out and having to put on a smile. Not having to get dressed up and entertain when all you want to do is put on sweats and curl up in a corner and cry.
Then the crashing realization of how alone you really are hits. Hard.
My solution was to drink away my sorrows. I’d drink, cry, pass out, repeat. Now, thankfully I didn’t spiral too much into full-blown alcoholism (no judgment), but I definitely was drinking heavily to mask my sorrow.
After a week, maybe two, it became clear that I could either spiral out of control with my bad habits or learn how to live again. I started by structuring two things into my daily schedule — exercise and cooking dinner. Hear me out.
Every morning, I’d make myself go outside for a walk, followed by either hot yoga or floating (flotation therapy). The goal was to jolt my happy hormones first thing in the morning to set me up for a good day. During my exercise, I’d think about what dinner I was going to make that evening.
Every evening, I’d cook myself a nice dinner. Something I would have made for my husband. Although rarely hungry, the act of cooking yourself dinner can be therapeutic.
These two things are simple, uncomplicated, and help your body start to recover emotionally and physically. They give you a sense of purpose for the day, which during a loss can be difficult to muster, at times.
You decide whether you spiral out of control or thrive. Although the “thriving” may take some time, you have to start somewhere.
Start small.
Practice Selective Neglect
Following my husband’s death, I had a semi-manic episode of thinking I had to get every task done immediately. Things like:
- Getting oil changes in our three vehicles
- Finishing a room makeover
- Changing titles on house and car
- The list was endless
Looking back, it seems absurd to think these things occupied any brain space.
Perhaps I needed to feel in control having just experienced a devastating loss. My brain wasn’t right. So if you are going through something similar, first — I stand with you and you aren’t alone. Second, IT CAN WAIT. Whatever “it” is, can wait.
Make time for yourself before anything else…be selfish about this.
One important tip: do NOT make any big decisions within six months to a year following a loss. Your emotions can drive decisions you’ll regret, so better to sit on important items until you are “you” again.
Creating Your New Normal
Years before the pandemic hit, I coined the phrase “new normal” when describing how I was doing. “I’m creating my new normal”.
Normal is whatever feels good to YOU, no one else. Please re-read this.
There are many people who love and want the best for you and think their way of doing things, or their opinions, will “help” you during your rebuilding phase. Especially family.
Practice selective neglect when possible.
Your new normal is yours to create. Not your Mom’s, not your best friend’s, not your in-laws. Yours.
Although I never expected to fall in love again (truly), the man who picked up my broken pieces and glued me back together became part of my new normal.
I lost in-laws. All of them.
They were devastated and hurt to learn of my new relationship and completely shunned me. It was like another death all over again. A story for another time, perhaps.
The point here is that no one is living your life for you. YOU have to do what makes you happy, even when there are tough consequences.
Unbreakable
My silver lining is the person I’ve become since losing my husband. The person who stares back at me in the mirror may always hold a bit of sadness in her eyes and a few more premature grey hairs, but behind the aesthetic is a powerhouse of:
- Resilience
- Appreciation
- Relaxation
- Love
I truly understand how precious life is, and how quickly life can be over.
How you live your life after a devastating loss is how you want to be remembered, not as a “widow”. Let your present define you, not your past. You are bigger than that.
Go show ’em how it’s done. I’ve got your back. ;-)
P.S.: I’d be honored if you read more of my stories. If you find any value in what you read, your support by “following” me is deeply felt and very much appreciated. Thank you in advance. :)
