1. I’m Some How to Blame for My Spouse’s Death
When my husband died, I wasn’t there. Susan was right there, in their bedroom, as her hubby slipped away. Rachel argued with her spouse an hour before he took his life. Toya and her fiancé enjoyed a romantic dinner right before he overdosed on a deadly combination of over-the-counter pills. Leah had been legally separated from her husband when she got the news that he was killed in a motorcycle accident while Anne and her partner were days away from their Caribbean getaway to celebrate their 5th wedding anniversary when tragedy struck. Despite the scenarios, a partner was lost.

The pain of losing a husband coupled with guilt can be excruciating. Please know that there is nothing you did or did not do to cause the death of your loved one. No amount of beating yourself up will ever bring him back. Let’s face it; life isn’t always fair. Sometimes shitty things happen to good people. It’s not your fault. Say it. Repeat it. Believe it!

2. I’m Okay
I thought 4.5 years after losing my spouse that I was actually “okay”. Don’t get me wrong, I knew that a piece of my heart would forever be missing, but I felt the storms had quieted and been replaced by an occasional sprinkle. As the calendar inched closer to what-would-have-been his 40th birthday, I felt the wind gusts picking up and the sky darkening. Then it hit me. The pain threatened to suck me into a black hole of grief. I thought I’d gotten beyond this type of hurt.

The truth is we may never be “okay”. We’re one song away from a total meltdown or a memory away from bursting into tears. You don’t have to pretend to be strong all the time. It hurts not being able to call your spouse after a long day. It’s natural to feel a tinge of jealousy seeing other couples enjoying their lives together. Allow yourself to feel all these emotions as they come up. You’re only human. The key is to not remain in this dark place. If it becomes too overwhelming to climb out of your grief, please consult a therapist or reach out to a local support group.

3. I Can’t Do This Alone
After the reality of losing my husband set it, I wondered how I was going to continue living. All my future plans included him. Our internet café in the islands. A more mellow, laid-back life in the Caribbean. We had big dreams. At times I wondered why I was still here. So much of my day and life were intertwined with his, how was I supposed to do this thing called life alone?

Before you realize it, Day 1 becomes Month 1 then rolls into Year 1. You keep putting one foot in front of the other and you get through the day. You may stumble, you may fall but you’ll learn soon enough that you have to get back up. It’ll be painful and at times you’ll want to quit. You’ll want to wave the white flag and surrender to your pain…to the hurt…the heartache. But you get up. You cope the best way you can. You teach yourself how to handle the chores that were once your spouse’s responsibility. You take control of the finances and/or the business. You can do this! Just be sure to assemble a great group of supporters for the days you need back up.

4. I’ll Never Be Loved Like That Again
Without my ever having to utter a single word, my husband understood. He knew when I was having a long day. He knew when I couldn’t wait to share exciting news. We were connected in a way that I’ve never before experienced. He knew all my flaws and triggers. He knew things about me that no one else did. At times I feel no one will ever love me the way he did.

There’s no doubt in my head that you’ve been feeling the same way too. Who can love you like your late-husband? Honestly, in this case we’re right…BUT…that’s okay. That love was unique. It had its own DNA that was formed as a result of both your experiences prior to meeting. It was shaped by the circumstances of your life together. It morphed into a one-of-a-kind love that can’t ever be duplicated. You’re different now. Anyone you meet comes with his own experiences. Together, you’ll have a new bond. That relationship will be different. We have to remember that different isn’t always a bad thing. Don’t compare. As one widow told me, soulmates are built. Keep an open mind for your Chapter 2 love story.

5. I’m Damaged
I’m not as young as when I met my husband while clubbing on South Beach. I used to be able to hop on a plane at the drop of a dime to meet up in different states during our long-distance relationship. That 23 year old has aged. The only clubs I’m now affiliated with is the Mickey Mouse Club thanks to my Disney-loving munchkin. I now have what the single world considers “baggage”. I’m an only parent. I’m widowed. My in-laws – who I’m especially close to – are part of my life and will continue to be. My heart is still in pieces and may never be whole. At times I feel like a Hermès Birkin bag that was accidentally brushed up against wet paint. I know my worth, but for others, the focus in on the stain.

I’ll remind you as I often remind myself: You’re worthy. You’re worthy of being happy – whatever form that takes. Anyone who sees you as less than the warrior you are should be removed from your life. You don’t have to settle for anything less that you feel you deserve. Don’t allow others to damage your spirit with negativity and don’t do it to yourself. You have survived that which could have broken you. You are worthy of love and respect from everyone, including family, friends, in-laws, coworkers and potential partners. Stop compromising your worth.

Please Note: This article is part of the “Five” series which includes “Five Ways to be Widowed & Miserable” and “Five Things a Widow Should Never Apologize for Doing“.

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.