The "D" Word

Well that "Be Nice to Dianne" note on my mirror is working. It hasn't entirely stopped the negative self-talk, but I'm giving myself a little verbal scolding when those ugly thoughts arrive, which often is followed by a little chuckle at what I must sound like when I'm in front of that mirror. Ah, the life of a woman living alone.

I've done lots of sharing in Widowed Village these past few days. I don't do that very often. Again, way way outside of my comfort zone, but it's been good to be open and honest and has actually helped me to work through some of this stuff. Come to find out I'm not the only one experiencing these feelings and not knowing how best to deal with them. Who knew?  And an extra special bonus to me being vulnerable in there is that a couple of my favorite people returned to the Village to respond and I was able to catch up with what's happening in their lives. I love the Village.

OK ... I guess I might as well spill a few of the beans about what these feelings are that have caught me so off-guard lately and sent me into a tailspin.  It's that word I never ever expected to say for myself ... d a t i n g ... eek!  Yes, I'll admit it.  It's me, the one who has stood on the soapbox for all widowed people who do not want to ever date or remarry.  Hear me roar.  Well, just to be clear, I will always stand on that soapbox, regardless of how this all turns out.

No, I haven't started dating. And, no, I'm not joining a match site. And, no, please do not try to set me up.  And, no, I'm really not ready to say yes to the stress.  But these totally unexpected feelings about all of this have shown up making me think I just might be open to it. Might be. Maybe. Someday. And that's been a real shocker for me.

This stuff is scary, folks. I have never dated as an adult. Nope, never. I married at 18 right out of high school, and really did not date much during my teen years. Vern is the only man I've ever been with.  I have real, serious issues with my physical self now that Vern is gone (reference my 'Be Nice to Dianne' note). My caregiving years were extremely hard and I don't know if I can handle the chance of having to go through that again.  I don't think my tender heart can survive rejection.

So as I said last night in the Village ...

That was easier.  More comfortable. And I may just do that. So please don't try to convince me that I need to do this ... that I must do this.  I'm working my way through all of these issues and feelings and insecurities and I'm in a good place with them right now. I won't let myself get swooped back down the rabbit hole that occurred last week. 

Because I'm using my God Box.  The physical act of writing out what was weighing heavy on my heart and putting it into that little box for God to handle for me has made a difference. A remarkable difference.

And as my old Village friends who returned with news of their own change of heart and new loves shared with me ... God ... fate ... the universe ... can have a hand in how this all turns out. I don't need to DO anything. I can just continue to live my life as I have been doing and let serendipity come to play if it is meant to.  Just as it did during that amazing summer of 1969.