There’s this part of me that is still a 19 year old kid. I’m terrified. I’m insecure. I don’t feel “good enough.”
That’s all bullshit.
Last night, I let my 19 year old self take over. I let the old insecurities come to the surface, I let the fears come to surface.
I am not my 19 year old self.
I am not my 38 year old self.
I am not the wife of a man who had 2 heart attacks and had a disabling form of arthritis.
I am not the wife of a man who spent 159 days in ICU hoping desperately against hope that he would get better and come home to us.
I am his widow.
I have changed in so many ways from my 19 year old self, from my 38 year old self, from who I was.
My way of looking at the world has changed. I am stronger, I am more confident, I am more secure in what I want and who I am.
When I was 19, my heart was broken.
When I was 39, my husband died.
None of this affects who will be in my life in the future or what will happen in the future.
I am me. And the person I am was shaped by the 19 year old, the 39 year old, but I am not them.