As I start my blog this week, I am sitting on a ferry bound for Key West… one of my absolute favorite places. As I watch the houses and beaches disappear from sight, I smile as I remember how I ever ended up on this annual trek for our girls’ weekend. A weekend of laughs, tears, hugs and deep, late night conversations. In other words, a wonderful time of sharing, bonding and making memories… a weekend that speaks deep to our souls as women and “soul sistas.”
I smile as I remember the first year I was invited to join this group of women I barely knew… Bruce’s 2 sisters, another girlfriend and myself. The others had known each other for years… I was new to the family, a bit introverted and very new to the experience of an accepting group of in-laws. In other words, I was terrified. My inner “Piglet” kicked in with all the fret and worry that makes Piglet famous, and I decided… I wasn’t going.
Bruce, however, felt I should go. He was never one to tell me what to do normally, but he was pretty insistent about this trip. One night after trying to explain the 100 million reasons why I thought it was a bad idea, I was at the point of tears. At a loss, he finally said, “Would you feel better if I went too?”
I perked right up with that! Yes, that would make me feel better but how in the world was he planning on doing that? This was a girls’ weekend… and he definitely was not a girl.
His solution? Total secrecy… we couldn’t tell anyone. He got a hotel room on the other side of the island. Throughout the weekend, we stayed in constant contact through text. I would tell him where we were, and he would always be within a block. If anything went awry, he promised to be my knight in shining armor and come to my rescue.
The weekend was wonderful! I had a blast. I’ve never been with such a loving group of women. Bruce never had to come to my rescue but by just being close by, he had been my hero… once again. I have been coming back every year since… (but without Bruce).
Now move forward in time… The first year after Bruce’s death, I went but it was hard. I was not interested in meeting or talking to people. I wasn’t even interested in laughing or having fun… all things that make KW what it is. I just wanted to sit and watch the world go by.
I remember a few things about that trip… I remember crying (a lot). I remember the girls taking turns sitting with me as the other 3 would go have fun… never once did they leave me alone nor did they make me feel like I was a bother or that they minded “babysitting” me.
I remember whenever I did talk to someone, I always introduced myself as a widow… Now that, my friend, is a conversation stopper like no other! I remember one of our bartender friends down there finally said, “Just keep breathing. One of these days, you will remember who you are as a person… The day will come when you won’t feel the need to always introduce yourself as a widow.”
At the time, I thought he was crazy… what did he know? But as time has passed, I have realized he was right. Now, I introduce myself as “Linda” (period). Yes, I am a widow, but that does not need to be the focus (or start of) every conversation… not now… not anymore.
As I am anticipating the trip this year, I find myself getting a little anxious. I am an introvert… that is my character. I’m not shy… I am friendly and can hold my own in a conversation. But I am not one to seek out that conversation. I am perfectly content to “people watch” and listen.
But my own inner dialogue went to work on making that simple characteristic a negative one… insisting that my public demeanor makes me a wallflower… the invisible friend. The one people are polite to… but only if they notice me. I was convincing myself that I am just a part of the scenary in the eyes of the world… a nobody.
Do you hear me? Do you hear what I was telling myself? I was doing what a lot of people do. I was listening to that voice in my head tell me that I am not good enough as just I am. The same voice Bruce always told me was wrong…. to ignore it. I don’t need to hustle, scramble or change in order to prove my value or worthiness as a person. I am perfectly fine just as I am. The people who add value to my life, will love me and accept me as I am. They do not try to “fix” me…
My soul sistas are a perfect example of that… That is why I love meeting them in KW every year.
As a widow, however, it becomes hard when that voice starts chattering. It can be loud and quite insistent, and there is no one to tell you any different. That is where I found myself when Bruce died and the volume on that voice increased greatly.
My grief journey, this widowhood, has re-created a loss of self-esteem and self-confidence that I haven’t felt in years. I’m not sure why; it just has. There is something self-defeating in the constant loneliness when the other half of your soul is gone… There is no longer that loving person to lean on or turn to when the days are rough or the nights are dark and long.
And without that person in your life anymore, you must find your strength within you.
As I was writing in my journal this morning, I realized that is where I am… searching for that strength within me – not searching for it from outside myself. I know that was one of the reasons Bruce always wanted me to take this trip. He wanted me to realize that I could just be me (completely me) and still have fun, especially when I am with people who accept me. But even more important, this is true when I can trust and accept myself.
This isn’t easy, nor does it come naturally… not for me. But I can assure you it is true.
This evening, as I return to write the last part of the story, I am back on the ferry and on my way home. This year’s trip is over and I have learned so much. I know without a doubt, we all have something within us that can create feelings of inadequacy… But our job is to not give that voice any power.
At one point this weekend, the four of us talked about that voice and the damage we can allow it to do. We talked about the fact that in order to be a whole person, we have to be look for that love and acceptance within ourselves, because we will never discover our own strength within someone else. We have to love and accept ourselves in order to offer our own unique gifts to the world.
I miss Bruce. I miss his love and I miss his companionship. I even miss his support and the security he offered. But in my core, I know my value didn’t (and still doesn’t) come from him… it comes from within myself. He taught me that a long time ago…
When Bruce died and my world turned upside down, I forgot it for a while. But as time passes, I am learning to love and trust myself again. I am learning that God made me as I am for a reason… I owe no apologies for that, nor should I try to be someone else. I just need to breathe, be comfortable with myself and be true to myself… without any self-doubt.
THEN, I can go out in the world and have FUN living the life I am meant to live.
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