You Are Not ‘Doing Widowhood Wrong’ by Anonymous

My husband died, and people still criticized the way I survived it.

Let that sink in.

I was drowning in the worst thing imaginable, and people standing safely on shore had opinions about the way I swam.

I laughed too soon.

Traveled too much.

Stayed too busy.

Talked about him too often.

Didn’t talk about him enough.

Went out.

Had fun.

Fell in love.

Kept living.

Apparently, there is a correct way to behave when the person you built your entire life around is suddenly dead—and somehow, people who have never buried their spouse believe they know what it is.

Imagine your house burns to the ground and, while you’re standing barefoot in the ashes, someone criticizes what you managed to carry out.

Imagine being hit by a truck and people commenting on how gracefully you limp.

Imagine surviving a plane crash and being told you smiled too much afterward.

That is what it feels like to be a widow in a world that is far more comfortable with your suffering than your survival.

People understand death when it looks like crying in bed.

They get uncomfortable when it looks like a plane ticket. A loud laugh. A new relationship. A great night. A bikini. A business. A future.

They want widowhood to be sad, quiet and recognizable.

But grief isn’t always tears.

Sometimes grief is working until you can’t think.

Sometimes it is getting dressed just to prove you still can.

Sometimes it is drinking wine with women who don’t need you to explain a damn thing.

Sometimes it is laughing so hard you forget for five seconds…and then feeling guilty because you forgot.

Sometimes it is loving someone new while still loving the person who died with every broken piece of you.

My survival will never look tidy enough for people who weren’t there when my world ended.

So I stopped explaining the way I swim to people who have never been in the water.

I am not doing widowhood wrong.

Neither are you.