I started something. A project some time ago. Something that had the potential to be great. It wasn’t the first time people had criticized my actions or gave me their advice or opinions.
With anything great or new always comes opposition, whether it be other people or ourselves.
When I dated for the first time after Linzi, I questioned whether or not it was the right time. I made comparisons. I made assumptions. I made mistakes. I made wrong decisions.
I had some people question if it was too soon. Question if it was unfaithful to her memory. Question if I was being too hasty in my decisions, and not even just in dating.
I’ve had to cut ties with people and disregard unwanted opinions and unsolicited advice.
I had to learn, the hard way, and I’m still learning, that the road to happiness requires you to be a little bit selfish, and I had to be okay with that.
The people who truly mattered? Well they would still be around regardless of what I put forth in the universe.
The world is changing.
Perspectives are changing.
And they will continue to, so long as we journey forward and make attempts, not to be heard, but to hear.
This weekend I dived just a little further down the rabbit hole.
Grief is a funny thing. It is a powerful and undeniable force, and many are trying their best to either suppress it, forget it, or overcome it.
What I’ve learned in a short time, however, is grief is not some obstacle to be overcome. It is a part of us. It will always be a part of us. I am a father. I am a brother. I am a son. I am a widower. Those are all roles I have but they do not define who I am or what I do.
There is a beauty in coming to terms with that, at least for myself there has been. It’s powerful to take control back from things we’ve felt we’ve had no control over. To harness what comes with that and to use it to not only empower but encourage others to forge their own paths and do the same.
I’m not sure where all of this is leading, but one day very soon, I believe I’ll be on the cusp of an answer.
The archaic methods of one-size-fits-all grief are in dire need of a facelift. We are unique individuals, each with unique experiences and stories, and those conditions should be treated as such.
I’m embracing it. My love for Linzi never died and it will never go away. In fact, I may love her even more now than I did then.
This isn’t the end. Not yet.