Moving On

I blogged very consistently for several years, but writing about my life has seriously dwindled for about the past three years.

A very sick spouse, grief and moving on into a new relationship have contributed to my absence.

But more so is this complete 180 in a particular aspect of my personality. The part of who I was that is kind of necessary to be a blogger: wearing my heart on my sleeve.

I kind of don't anymore.

Since Mark's death, I have become much more private about my personal thoughts and feelings.

And I don't know why.

I didn't need or want much help navigating my grief. I took the first year after my husband's death to JUST BE, to get comfortable with being a widow and with what life looked like without Mark (and everything that came with him) in it. I knew I was strong enough to get through it, and I guess I wanted to do it on my own.

(I am still an open book, however. If you ask me something, I'll answer honestly and from my heart. That will never change.)

Shortly after that first year, I decided I wanted to start dating. This was a surprise to me, as I had once thought I would have no desire to do so for a long time after my loss. Since I surprised myself with wanting to date, I didn't feel like I could adequately explain it to anyone else, so I kept quiet.

Just four months into online dating, I met a wonderful man and fell in love. Over the last 7 1/2 months, not only have I been all ushy-gushy over Sweet Man -- savoring every bit of it -- and again, staying pretty quiet (about our relationship) because I decided I don't care what anyone thinks about it.

Especially if there are any judgments floating around.

Fuck that. Don't need it. Not gonna have it.

I have earned my happiness and have zero desire to justify it to anyone.

For the record, I have no idea if anyone is harboring any negative judgments about how I've handled widowhood and finding love again. Maybe there aren't any. Probably not, honestly. But if there are, I don't care to know, so why would I open that particular can of worms by being all hey, look at me, my husband died and I've found love again....what do you think of that!?

I'm just over here living my life.

And I'm not sure I have anything else to say, to write about.

Sure, I'm still experiencing things, learning and growing and gaining wisdom and all that shit. But I don't find myself feeling the need to pontificate about any of it. I don't think I have anything unique to offer the world by sharing the things I go through publically.

I'm not special. I don't have more wisdom than anyone else (well, maybe a little about some things), and I don't want to be open to public criticism.

I'm also not willing to compare my relationships with Mark and Sweet Man. Those details of my life are too private and really only for me to think about.

Then there are my children. Well, my daughter is almost 18 and it's not really for me to chronicle her adult life. I don't feel it's appropriate to write much about my foster daughter because she's a ward of the state and there's a still on-going criminal case against her father. My son is in middle school, plays the bass clarinet and Fortnite and, well, big kids just aren't as interesting as babies and little kids, are they? Heck, even Jill Smokler, who founded Scary Mommy, has moved on from mom blogging!

Perhaps something will change in the future, and there is a lot of posterity here that I want to keep somehow, but it seems to me that my personal blogging journey has run its course.

I enjoy writing so maybe I will try to do some other form of it, but who knows?

Remember, I'm very Zen about these things.

Falling in Love Again

A very surprising thing happened to me three months ago; I fell in love again.

I know, right!?

I say "again" because it is comparable to what I had with my late husband. If it wasn't, I wouldn't say again. Because the time, love and commitment that Mark and I shared set the bar high for me.

It's surprising because, although I was actively dating, I wasn't meeting men who were love and relationship material. Also, I sincerely didn't expect to find what many widows call their "chapter two".

But I think I have.

An Open Letter to Those Who Would Judge a Widow

Dear Random Dude on a Dating Site,

You saw my online dating profile and decided to message me. You must have thought I was cute or liked something I wrote in my bio.

Everything started out just fine; your standard introductory small talk. Then you asked how dating has been going for me. I answer and ask the same of you. You ask what I'm looking for. I say that I'm dating and hoping to find someone to have a relationship with.

Then you say, "You must not have loved your husband very much."

What?!?

This Shit is Real

"How are you?"

"I'm good", "I'm fine" or "I'm OK" are the standard answers, whether true or not.

I say them all the time. Partly because there are things I feel like I shouldn't -- or don't want to -- admit.

You know, things that could make me look vulnerable or weak.

Because I pride myself on being a strong person. I've earned it.

But you know what? I still have feelings. And sometimes my feelings get hurt, or weird and hard to understand.

9 Musings on Grief

1. I fucking hate grief.

2. It adds insult to injury because you're forced to lose someone you love, which rips your heart out and throws it onto the floor.

3. Totally exposed, raw and sensitive.

The Evolution of a New Widow

My husband died 15 months ago and there have been many changes. Some days I feel like that's what my life is now: change.

I'm doing really well. So are my kids.

We've been through the gambit of grief emotions, of course. It's interesting to me to note, though, that I haven't experienced much anger.