Dating a Widow, an exercise in Introspection
Tags: Lovestory, Dating, Love, Relationships

Dating a Widow, an exercise in Introspection

Written by Daniel (Instagram – Vegandad4)

When Tayla asked me to write of my experiences in meeting her, getting to know her and falling in love with her I assumed it would be easy, I mean – from the outset it looks like the perfect love story, happy endings, happy photos and two people finding each other.

And it is, it really is.

However, when you start to reflect on the experiences, and identify with your feelings at each stage – there is so much more to it.

I started talking to Tayla one morning, I reached out as something about her story hit me on a level that left me needing to tell her that as a stranger, who has never suffered a loss of a person I loved beyond relationship breakups, that I felt her emotion and that while I didn’t know what I could do, I wanted to do something.

I didn’t know her previously, only what we all see on Instagram.

That week we spent time texting back and forth, and the conversations were broad, there were not many hints of the raw grief that I’d seen. The conversation flowed, and before we knew it, we were texting throughout the day.

She suggested a facetime date later that week, I alone in my apartment – her, after a day with the kids and putting them to bed.

I think we spoke for about an hour. Studying each other’s features, carrying more of the same conversation that we’d done via text. It can be hard to convey yourself in that medium, until its not – and it wasn’t, it wasn’t hard at all.

I remember leaving that conversation wanting more, those familiar feelings of excitement in the pit of my stomach.

Talk soon turned to meeting in person, at first we were going to do a dinner *ugh, cliché I hear you all say* … but in the end we decided to meet at her place.

I remember first meeting her, downstairs – and an immediate feeling of her wall up, high, impenetrable, with a moat – and the moat was filled with crocodiles, and the walls guarded with the finest selection of rabid goats. There was no flirty exchanges, she barely looked at me… but I did notice the small fleeting looks up, the curiosity in her eyes while I spent the time keeping the conversation casual, anecdotal whilst my internal monologue was accessing the situation.

“Was I being too much?, am I talking about myself too often? Does she even like me? Do I look like I did on Facetime?”

But I breathed, and just let it flow.

I’ll spare the details of that first night, except to say that the level of intimacy she needed at that time – was just to be in the company of another human. To be held, to sleep feeling safe, no pressure, no performance, no ulterior motives.

She slept until 1:30pm the following day, and I didn’t….but I did hold her, all of that time. Feeling each bad dream, in painful cycles. Feeling her breath faster, then slow down….and I just held her.

I remember asking myself all that time, whether I could be my best for this woman, could I support her, could I push away my own personal wants and needs while holding her and being what *she* needed. I realised very quickly I could, or at least I was going to try like I never had before.

We got up that day, she went to pick up the kids, I went back to my apartment – and I went back less sure of myself than I’d been in a long time. Honestly, I felt like that was the first, and the last time I’d see Tayla.

Little did I realise, but she’d also had a massive bout of introspection. Her grief, her state of mind all convincing her that she wasn’t worthwhile, wasn’t deserving and that I deserved more. We spent two days with no communication, my phone battery useage was made up almost entirely of looking at our last message.

I thought she’d ghosted me, and was prepared to walk away… albeit my feelings even then were strong enough not to want to. So I reached out, and she rang me and explained why she didn’t feel enough for me.

This was the first sign that I knew there was something…something small, and that if we held onto it, if we could work through it – we could grow together.

We spoke, with such heartfelt emotion where it would’ve been easy for me to just walk away – but I wasn’t even battling that urge. I wanted to hold her, like that first night and just tell her it’s all going to be ok. I knew it, I knew that for all of my lack of experience In grief, I knew I could.

Her words at the end of that conversation was a massive sigh, and “Ok, lets do this then”

Now, so far I hear you saying “So what’s the issue? Sounds like this is exactly how it should have gone” and you’re not necessarily wrong, It felt …exactly like It should be.

The Mitch Albom quote “Death ends a life, not a relationship” is true

And as someone who neither knew Tayla’s late fiancé, nor suffered the loss of someone and the grief that goes with this – you can be as kind, as compassionate as Ghandi – but the first time you see your loved ones grief for another person, and their love – your feelings, your emotions, and to some extent even your self-worth will be challenged.

I remember telling myself that their relationship and love for that person will continue, and is both normal and healthy … because if the opposite was the case, if she felt nothing, then that would be an indicator of underlying red flags.

Greif academics Klass, Silverman and Nickman wrote and released a book called “Continuing Bonds; New Understandings of Grief” back in 1996 – and my introspection, my desire to learn as much about my feelings, as well as Tayla’s sent me on this internal discovery.

A summary of this book below.

“The authors, Klass, Silverman, and Nickman, explicitly questioned the dominant models of grief. The book suggested that perhaps these linear models, ending in a detachment from the person we’ve lost, were denying a reality of how many people grieve. They suggested a new paradigm, rooted in the observation of healthy grief that did not resolve by detaching from the deceased, but rather in creating a new relationship with the deceased.

Here is the 30 second summary: under this model, when your loved one dies grief isn’t about working through a linear process that ends with ‘acceptance’ or a ‘new life’, where you have moved on or compartmentalized your loved one’s memory. Rather, when a loved one dies you slowly find ways to adjust and redefine your relationship with that person, allowing for a continued bond with that person that will endure, in different ways and to varying degrees, throughout your life. This relationship is not unhealthy, nor does it mean you are not grieving in a normal way. Instead, the continuing bonds theory suggests that this is not only normal and healthy, but that an important part of grief is continuing ties to loved ones in this way. Rather than assuming detachment as a normal grief response, continuing bonds considers natural human attachment even in death”

It was vitally important that I understood my emotions, because suppressing them and trying to ignore them breeds discontent, and can contribute to resentment in a relationship. This rings true for so many emotions, Understanding is the path to acceptance.

I promised Tayla, above all else – that her memories should not be forgotten. Her grief should be allowed to follow a path into our relationship where it goes from underpinning “Us” to being a shared environment of understanding, and a basis for our love.

This understanding gives you the clarity to hold your loved one, in an unexpected raw moment of grief, whether it be the first thing in the morning, or as a response to a memory or a significant event, and while I promise, you wont always get it right – you will deal with things occasionally by default – you may walk away at a moment when they need you most, your understanding will give you the ability to identify, and recognise that you are needed, loved and valued in this new relationship.

You do not replace their loved one, you become one.