You see me carrying on despite the horrible hand life dealt me. You wave as I pull the garbage bin to the curb each week, a chore my husband would always need a gentle reminder to complete. You pass me in the hallways at work, impressed that I’m able to continue as lead on the project. You sit across from me at church as I remind my two boys to lower their voices.
I see it in your eyes, the words I know are coming but I wish you wouldn’t speak.
Then, you stop me or motion me over to ask how I’ve been doing since the death of my spouse. As the conversation winds to a close, you say the words I’ve been dreading: “You’re so strong!”
The truth is, I’m not strong. You don’t see me as I hold back tears trying to explain to my older son why his daddy isn’t here with us. You don’t hear me yelling obscenities when yet another item gets added to the honey-do list for which I have no “honey” to fix. You aren’t there as the tears stream down my face when I hear his favorite song on the radio. You must not know how often I sit in the car – alone – and bawl for what could have been, should have been. You can’t possibly imagine how I wavered in my faith and questioned what kind of God would have allowed my husband to meet such a horrific end. No, you’re not there when I just need one more drink to numb the pain…when I reach for one more pill to get through the insomnia.
I’m not strong.
I feel like a fraud for making anyone think this widowed life is easy. I’m merely coping and trying to make the best of an unfortunate set of circumstances. I’m no shining example of how to handle grief with grace and class. I’m only working on getting through each day; many times hour by hour.
By focusing on my strength – and that alone – you set an unrealistic set of “standards” for the next woman who loses a spouse and isn’t handling her storm as well as you think she should. You reinforce the stereotype that there is a one size fits all with grief. Please know no two widowed journeys are the same. A widow who chooses to publicly share her pain and grief is just as “strong” as one who masks her pain and puts on a brave front for the world.
There’s an expression that says, “You never know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice”. I know this to be true. Losing my husband forced me to work tirelessly to retain some semblance of normalcy for our children. You’d do the same if forced into the situation I have been.
So you see, I’m not any stronger than you would be. I’m merely in survival mode.
Mom to a feisty preschooler, Kerry Phillips became widowed at age 32. She runs an online support group for young widows and widowers venturing back into the world of dating and is a blogger for The Huffington Post.
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Yes! Very well written. I always say, “what choice do I have?”
It’s hard for me to say anything now due to what I am currently going through. I am not strong but God is. I even intend writing a book later on in life
Sorry you’re going through so much, Victoria. Best wishes for your book. Writing has been a great source of healing for me. Hope it is for you as well.
I was widowed at 34 with 4 kids aged 14-2 and I wholeheartedly agree with everything your saying about stregth. The other comment I have recieved lately which I hate is “I couldn’t do what you do” …I dont want to be surviving either, I wish for an easier life path.
Beautiful
Thanks, Nina!
This hits home! I literally cringe when people tell me I’m strong. I’m functioning and putting on a brace face but there are days as a31 year old widow walking into year 2 that I’m moments away from a total breakdown. People tell me “oh I don’t know how you do it.” And I say you don’t know what you’ll do until you have no choice but to do.
Hang in there, Ashleigh. If you haven’t already joined our support group, please consider becoming a member. It’s a great supportive group of people who get it.
Kerry, thank you for sharing your gift of writing with all of us! I’ve shared many of your posts and wanted to shout, “Yes, Yes, Yes!” at the top of my lungs when reading! I especially have wanted a few specific people in my life to read your posts.
I wish society in general had a better understanding of widowhood and the life that comes after. My husband’s family feels nothing but contempt and judgement for me for dating a year after my husband’s death.
Your words that spoke to me today came when you mentioned obscenities at another chore added to the To Do list. In another glass of wine to make it through the evening. In the private tears in the car or the bathroom.
Thank you for saying all the things I think and feel. Your blog has helped educate people in my life and helped me remember my widow journey is “normal”.
Thank you so much for the kind words, Jennifer. Until it happens to them, they don’t understand the many challenges we face including the judgement. Glad you’re able to relate to my posts and thanks for sharing them.
Great article, Kerry! Thank you for saying out loud one of my struggles.
Thanks, Christine <3
Absolutely hits home! I was widowed at 32. My son was two at the time. I had to face it all…
People said ‘you are strong!’. They were not there to see me cry at night. I went through really tough times. The pain, the loneliness, the stigma, the maltreatment… I woke up in the mornings to face the new day. I had to.
I looked strong. I knew better.
We have no other option but to keep going…
I am not a widow, but these “reads” are so great to gain perspective. My question would be what words would help? What do you wish people would say ? I’m sure it’s different for everyone, but any ideas welcomed so others can help!
I think being honest, “I have no idea what to say to you right now but I’m here for you”. Offer a hug. Offer to just listen. Listening goes a long way 🙂
I just read this for the first time and it is so on point. I could have written this myself (had I a smidge of your talent for written expression). I have to say that I am really enjoying your blog Kerry. Keep it up!
Thanks so much, Andrea 🙂
Perfectly said Kerry! I detest when people tell me I’m strong for the various reasons you wrote about and. Probably more! Thank you for validating the widow’s feelings while educating the non-widowed world with your proverbial pen.
I appreciate the kind words, Lisa. Thank you!
In the past 4 yrs I’ve lost my 1st husband of 28 yrs (ALS), my 2nd husband of 3 months(sudden heart attack) and my Mom, pneumonia… plus also 2 of my beloved dogs… people are always telling me how strong I am, I have no choice!
Big hugs, Penny. Sorry you’ve endured so much loss in such a short amount of time.
I’m a 72 year old widow, married 45 years when my husband died unexpectedly just over 4 years ago. It has been a very long and difficult road. I had never lived alone, and had no idea what my future could be without him. I lived more than half my life with him. I am still learning how to go places alone or with a friend and then come home to an empty apartment. It hasn’t been pretty or enjoyable, and people have made insensitive remarks to which I can only say “you will see if differently if you are ever in my situation”. I have had no choice but to keep putting one foot in front of the other and do the best I can. People tell me to take one day at a time. I can only take one step at a time. It only takes a thought, a song, a memory, a smell, a place, or any everyday event to push me off course, but I have to keep on going. I’m only as strong as I can be, with God’s help at any given moment.
I just lost my husband in January and I hate hearing your a strong woman cause I’m not. I took care of my husband in our home till he passed giving him medicine for pain every hour. It was hard from Christmas till the day he passed but I don’t see myself as strong. I was taking care of my soulmate, the love of my life, and he would do the same for me. It was hard but still don’t call me strong. My heart hurts everyday without him. I’m nothing without him. He was my strength, my comfort, my safe place my everything. How do you go on without your other half?? I’m so lost without him. The pain is so bad. People say come on stop crying but it’s not that easy. It’s hard and it hurts. You just don’t know till you go through it.
The best thing I would recommend is to find a support group. It’s amazing seeing others who are farther out – it gives us hope that we’ll get there – eventually.
This made me cry because it’s so on the nose. I lost my husband to cancer in 2020 and am still just surviving almost 3 years later
I couldn’t relate to this more if I wrote it myself. Thank you thank you thank you. I tell people if being strong is doing it all and falling apart than I am strong. I am strong when I’m weak and weak when I’m string but thriving despite all of what was dealt.