Mizpah

Did I know it? Yes and no. He was very different in courtship than he has been in a relationship, and I suppose we all are *to an extent*. (He was very attentive and I was very easygoing. We both did a pretty quick 180 once "$h!t got real.") I think, because of his childhood and relationship history, he knows "the script" for courtship, but not for actual intimacy and emotional bonding??? And I had different expectations from a casual fling partner and a life partner, and I don't think he realized how much I would expect to be able to rely on him. As for marriage, I didn't care then *and* he said something early on that made me believe he wanted to marry me. So we both kind of flip flopped there as well. (As I'm typing this, I'm really digesting the whole "you don't know how you'll react to a situation until you're in it" pearl of wisdom that I firmly believe in about grief, but didn't realize held true to relationships transitioning from easy fun fantasy swiftly to hard core real life struggles.) And do I believe it can work without bells and whistles? Absolutely. Is it just marriage? I think it's what marriage has come to mean for me in this context: that I'm not second-best (wanted to marry his DW but not me), that he chooses me (not just that he's with me because of our baby or because we've passively happened to stay together over time), that he's in this like I am for good. Maybe it's all my insecurities conveniently packaged into one thing. Thanks for being my therapist, arneal (and everybody)! And sorry for subjecting everyone to my overthink and babble. I hope recoupling is easier for everyone else, and if not, that there may be a scrap or two here that can give them some comfort? :-\ ??? : (As for reporting in ridiculously happy, I can at least say I'm feeling less obsessed, fixated, haunted, soul-destroyed, largely because of talking through it, as well as because of the improvements I see/cause/enjoy in my relationship daily.)

I don't know about soon, but just keep going. You won't always feel so horrible. I say about this: What happened to him will never be ok, but *I* am now. It takes time, and it takes emotional honesty: both allowing yourself to suffer, and allowing yourself healing/good feelings. I'm thinking of you all and wish so much you didn't know this devastation.

Drinking can do this, open the door to things we don't think can hurt us anymore (I'm at 6+). I read this and immediately thought: "Huh, that never happens to me." But then I remembered that time in the car driving home from work when a certain song was on the radio and I randomly remembered something moving that DH's dad had said to me and I pictured his face and promptly bawled my freakin' head off for a few minutes and then was totally fine - and mystified as to what had just occurred! Trauma is tricky, and it being mostly latent makes us think it's done. Not much in life is simple, least of all big issues like life satisfaction, love, loss, aging, memory.... Perhaps we set ourselves up for these crises by, in the normal course, insisting on and forcing emotional simplification. Except for some easygoing, happy-go-lucky lucky ones, to struggle internally is normal. Wait, isn't it? Is it?

Yes, it gets better. It's different for everyone, but for me, yes, it definitely got better over time, and there was nothing worse for me than those first few days/weeks/months. I started to feel alive again a bit before two years (again: it's different for everyone), before I "recoupled" and before I thought that would ever be something I'd be into. For me, it was really simple things that I found joy in again - or peace, maybe. Joy or peace. It was very gradual. Simple things like good weather, watching a marathon and finding myself smiling, a perfectly ripe piece of fruit, the feeling after a run or a workout - tired but energized. Those were the signs to me that I may be ok again - that things like that could make me happy. I went on a trip by myself at two years, and it solidified that feeling - that I might be happy again. I felt good. I felt really, really good. [Feel free to ignore this part. In the beginning, it would make me rageful when people talked to me about finding someone and having a relationship one day again. But: I'd thought I'd never have feelings for anyone ever again (my relationship with DH was, as another wid here put it "absurdly ideal"), I did become involved with someone and found that I wasn't dead inside after all and that I could have very real, very deep feelings for someone else one day.] As for being cheery for the kids, I now have a daughter, and I've told her: sometimes people are sad. Your girls will learn about emotional honesty/authenticity/acceptance and strength from you if you don't force yourself to pretend cheerfulness in such absolutely horrific circumstances (too much - I realize some forcing yourself to function and exist and be stable is of course necessary and healthy).

I don't believe in G-d but was raised Catholic and am Jewish by birth, and DH was Jewish and believed in G-d. After he died, I began attending synagogue to say kaddish (the mourner's prayer) for him according to custom, and I went to synagogue every week for over two years (until I moved away and haven't really gotten connected to a new synagogue yet). I can't even begin to explain the comfort the ritual and traditions and community and time/space for reflection and beauty and joy and sadness, all gave me. It also gave me a place to go, and also a connection to something that mattered so much to him. I worried that perhaps my lack of belief could be a barricade between me and that comfort, but it wasn't at all.

Open to all always I think that's exactly the point of no longer giving myself ultimatums: to see if I can stop fixating, and if I stop fixating, to see if I'm actually happy. Maybe I am, maybe I'm not, but I don't think I can tell when I'm constantly torturing myself by issuing deadline after deadline to myself and threatening myself. And as for changing someone else, what I've found is actually, strangely, the opposite: once I changed my behaviors toward him, he changed his behaviors toward me. I think people can and do regularly change, ourselves and each other. You know that phrase: hurt people hurt people. If damage can change us, then can't effort and being mindful and more accepting?

Oh gosh, I love all of you, and I think you're all right, even when you contradict each other, and even when you tell me my relationship is doomed and you feel sad for me. And that's the thing about my situation (all of ours, I'm sure): it is not simple, and many different contradicting things are correct. It is complicated with many different factors. I wrote this after I read ABitLost's comments and probably was defensive and I wasn't going to post it (for worry that I was just simply being defensive), but I guess I will: " You're not out of line, and there are parts of what you say that have kernels of truth in them, and are arguments I've mounted against myself, but I think it's overly simplistic, which is inherent in this kind of forum, with posting snippets (and usually when in a rough time). I am discontent and resentful. Absolutely. But it's not all or even largely because of him or because we are different. And I think this goes to a big part of why we had so many problems for a couple years. I went through huge changes all at once, and was lonely and isolated - it became very easy for me to blame him for a whole array of things. I was quashed by leaving the home I'd known for over a decade and loved fiercely, by leaving all my friends and I had a huge social circle, by leaving a really satisfying job, by leaving my synagogue and my classes, by leaving the place where I ran and worked out, by leaving DH's family and the ritual of visiting his grave, and I think most of all I was quashed by the severe life change in becoming a mother, losing freedom (and sleep for 16 months) and the freedom to be selfish in my decisions and time. I lost the ability to be the most important person. In my life with DH, for example, I had no money worries. But I have huge educational debt, and now with daycare, I really need to face financial realities. For another example, in my life with DH, I was always #1 to him. But he didn't have kids, we didn't have kids. In many ways, I think these years have been me adjusting to being a responsible, mature, accountable adult, and doing it very ungracefully. I do see your point, and perhaps I'm just being defensive, but, like I said, our dynamic has improved so vastly, and my main problem is just this marriage issue. Our day-to-day life is lovely and sweet, and my favorite place in the whole world is cuddled in bed in the morning with him. My whole life I've struggled with perfectionism and being insatiable, always wanting everything to be better and more perfect. Even DH used to tell me I drive myself "cuckoo." Is my relationship quashing who I am? I'd say my current life is, the life of a financially struggling working mom. Would I have stayed with him if not for my daughter? If we're talking a couple years ago, no, definitely not. If we're talking about right now, absolutely. I said to my therapist a few months ago that I stayed in large part because of my daughter, and now I'm so glad that I did, that I couldn't have known then what it would be now. Partly because we're different, we've opened up whole other aspects of life for each other and exposed each other to things we never expected to influence us. My post makes you sad - it *is* sad. The story is sad. But it's not sad because I'm settling for a certain relationship, it's sad because I was with a man to whom I was the center of the world, and now I'm with a mature man who doesn't think it's a great idea to get married before seeing if a relationship can stabilize and flourish consistently. Because it hurts me even though I understand it and even respect it. I still want what I want. And I want it now. Does it sound terrible, as a widow, to say I'm not overly concerned with what I think DH would want for me? I'm such a different person now - I'm more concerned with what I want for me. I want NG. I just want him to want to marry me too. (And in response to people who say pressuring him won't help, it's more that I'm pressuring MYSELF - to leave, that I'm linking it all to a concept of my self-respect, that I can't stay unless he proposes, that if he doesn't propose it means I'm vulnerable to him, I love him more than he loves me, that he loves me less than he loved/loves DW, etc., etc.) Do I protest too much? Like TooSoon says, I'm struggling with acceptance. I don't want anything less than exactly what I want." And to that, that I wrote before, I'll add: Bunny, you've got it: my relationship with DH was absurdly ideal. Absurdly, and NG's relationship with LW was perfect for him (she had very few demands on him, seemingly wanted little but a roof over her head and occasional pragmatic assistance - I'm a bit more... intense). Having a baby together while he was freshly grieving and sixteen months of interrupted sleep really did a number on us in the early stages of our relationship, for sure, and yeah - children put enormous strains on relationships, not to mention the blending aspect. And I am a hypocrite for sure (and a fixated, overthinking one, yes) - wanting to be his ideal despite not being able to give the same award (obviously not something I'd ever say to him). Human nature is, partly, greedy, voracious, jealous, ego-driven, hungry hungry hungry.

A google search gave me TONS of articles on this. Here's the first one, which starts about Paul McCartney, but moves on to generalities about the differences in grieving and "moving on" between men and women. http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/01/fashion/thursdaystyles/01marry.html I read this one too: http://time.com/3584827/pew-marriage-divorce-remarriage/ On a personal level, though, a stark difference I noticed between NG (widower) and me is that I went through a long phase (about two years) of feeling very strongly that I'd never have feelings for another person again, whereas he immediately knew he wanted a wife and kids in his future. For me, all that felt specific to DH, but for him it was about him and his life/hopes/desires.

I don't tell everyone, but when I am in a new friendship, there's always giant relief for me when I (intentionally casually) mention in passing "my late husband," or something like that. I never make a big deal of it, but there's just this huge relief for me in saying it. It's almost like by not saying it, I'm hiding something and by saying it, I'm done with that burden.

Are you in talk therapy? From what you're saying, it sounds like it may really help you think things through. I often go in in a muddle, and come out having refined my bubbling feelings into a couple ideas I knew I was trying to find but it was all too confused and busy. Like you, I do a lot, and it often results in me feeling less fulfilled rather than more fulfilled - scattered and chaotic and like I'm not exerting control or will or preference in my own life, and I crave stillness and quiet to find some peace and centeredness. I rarely get that silence and stillness. And like you, I'm full of thoughts, and like you, I feel worn down, and like you, I'm wondering who I am now, now that it's been some years (6+ for me), and some of the dust has settled and my life has changed so much. You mention online dating so maybe it comes down to loneliness and craving a connection, but I'm in a relationship and I still have these thoughts - busyness but not knowing who I am now, and seeking something more from myself or life, though I don't know what it is. Anyway, I didn't mean to babble. I meant to suggest therapy and talking it all through to get down to what it is you want and how to change your habits to get closer to it? Didn't mean to talk all about me, meant to empathize. Thinking of you.

Thanks, arneal. I think you hit the nail on the head. I think I entered this relationship thinking HE wasn't ready and that I was much further along in terms of healing. In terms of time, I was further along, but I think that my relationship with DH was both a blessing and a curse in its greatness. And the curse aspect of it has made its mark on my current relationship. With DH, that infatuated initial phase never faded. But in real life, in most relationships, it does. You can't keep up that infatuation. And don't they say that studies/brain scans show that being in love looks just like being insane? I think my expectations WERE skewed, and that I've been judging this relationship based on that one. Wanting that when I have this, and this is so very different, but my life is so different now, and *I* am so different now - and these men are so different, but both wonderful, in very different ways. DH was young and idealistic, and our lives were a bit luxurious - we had few worries and few things taking our attention away from showering each other with pure love. Now, NG and I are both truly adults, with truly adult responsibilities and all the stresses that come with that. And while DH had had a somewhat easy, very love-filled life, NG has had a (to put it mildly) rough time of it since childhood/babyhood, and in a lot of ways, losing DW was not even close to the worst of it. I think I overestimated how well-adjusted I was, because I was only well-adjusted in a vacuum, and wasn't able to apply it to my new life, I wasn't able to accept what I now had or appreciate it because I was so hyper-aware of what was lacking in comparison. Are we in love? I don't know. I'm not sure I know what that means anymore. Were we infatuated in the beginning? Yes. Is there still lust and chemistry? Yes. Do we spend our free time gazing into each other's eyes and praising each other? No, and we don't really have much free time. Our home wasn't a sanctuary for a long time, and it felt terrible. But in the past year or two, it has become that. We have flare-ups (we're both intense and have tempers), but I think we used to dread going home and now it's lovely. Am I settling? I don't think so. I wanted him. I got him. Does he give me what I want? Let's say he doesn't give me what I thought I wanted. We don't have conversations like the ones you described, and we likely never will. But he planted me a big garden of gorgeous flowers. He speaks in a different language than me and different from what I'm used to. But I'm learning to appreciate it. I don't think it's settling. I think it's maturing, understanding, accepting, growing even. I think I posted a long time ago that DH made me a happy woman, but maybe not a better woman, and that, through some growing pains and adjustment, NG has made me a better woman. I've never been one of those rays of sunshine who are always positive, so learning appreciation doesn't come naturally to me. But learning to appreciate what we share, instead of obsessing on the one thing I don't have (marriage), like a temper tantrum, is I think important for me. Maybe I won't be able to reconcile myself to it in the end, but I think letting the pressure off myself will help me to see clearly if this is giving me what I need or not.

No apologies necessary. Just further exploring. I'm clearly all caught up in tangles in my head!

This part is different for me, though, and part of that pesky maturing I'm being forced to do. We're NOT perfect for each other, we're NOT a better match for each other than we were for our lost loves, I would not characterize him as the man of my dreams, though I love him dearly, and I doubt I'd ever follow anyone but DH to the ends of the earth (this all sounds so terrible!). We're not "imperfect but perfect for each other," it's more like we're imperfect and also really imperfect together. And so part of all of this for me is an unpleasant, forced examination of my own motives and desires - is there part of me that desperately wants him to want to marry me precisely because he doesn't want to? That there's an element of hurt pride/ego, some rejection I want healed without having to admit that maybe I have refused to recognize his reservations because maybe I share them, or that I have different concerns/reservations. I don't know. Maybe I presented it as more simple than it actually is for me. I think I've allowed myself to occupy a space of rejectedness and victimhood, maybe partly because a victim bears no blame/responsibility - I'd like to be innocent. I can tell myself that he's the one who's hurt me, not just life - that's easier, that's simpler - and also, if HE's the one who's hurt me, he's the one who can heal/comfort me, whereas if it's just life/chance that has hurt, there is no balm or comforter or solution. It's easier if he's the one who's decided we're not passionately crazily in love above all other concerns like compatibility and dynamics, then it's not that I have to face that DH was perfect for me and I'm making do, "just" making something good and lovely out of what I've been dealt (having to redefine love as something less poetic and more mundane and quiet and realistic). I'm angry at him for what I have interpreted as him loving DW more than me, but perhaps I'm as guilty. I'm angry at him for caring more about how we get along than about lofty theoretical ideas about love. But maybe his having been concerned about those adult things relieves me from having to. I don't know. I could examine this for hours and days and years, and apparently I have, to no true conclusion.

So I've been with NG for nearly 4 years now. When we got together, he (a widower) was not even a year in. I was about 2 1/2. I feel like I recap in every post, and it's gotta be boring by now. Briefly: exciting sexy chemistry-laden long distance fling, quickly got very serious, then found out I was pregnant (despite doc telling me I couldn't), we decide I'll move to be with him and raise our child together. Left big city, all my friends, to be in the country. Huge seismic shift for me, extremely homesick, emotionally needy (pregnant, homesick, came from a super close relationship with DH to a somewhat distant relationship style preference on his part), he withdrew almost immediately, we quickly lost a sense of alliance and love and turned into enemies really, with tons and tons of fighting nearly constantly for nearly two years. I was distraught regularly and so sad and just wanted him to love me like before and he wanted me to not cause problems, but I couldn't with how heartbroken I felt. We slowly became better people toward/with each other, learned each other, both compromised our styles and treatment, and what was horrid and rancorous is now generally sweet and loving. We have our moments, but who doesn't? And it's more about normal stuff, like household maintenance/operation issues, rather than hating each other's guts because of emotional differences, etc. One thing I've been unable to shed, though, is sadness and anger over his not wanting to get married. It's funny, because before him I never cared about marriage. But now I do. Or rather, I care about him not wanting to get married, maybe not actually about being married. I worry that I love him more than he loves me (likely, just because of our different ways of being in life and in relationships), I feel tortured over the fact that he wanted to marry her but not me (this is a big part of it, I hate feeling like I'm not #1 to the person I'm with - he never wanted to get married before her, and now he doesn't want to again - *I* want to be the exception, I don't want to be just another one, and the exception is someone else), I obsess over people maybe thinking I'm just some replacement or a regret or a shotgun partner, that he's only with me because I got pregnant, I obsess over a ring I saw on-line, I feel like I lose my self-respect by staying when I'm not getting this thing that I want (leave or you have no self-respect, I'm telling myself inside), I feel angry and sad and like this is the final sub-tragedy in the larger tragedy of losing DH: losing DH who wanted to bond us in soul and in life in every single way possible, and ending up with/loving someone who doesn't want to marry me. It's caused me so much heartbreak and it's caused us so much discord. I've been giving myself deadlines: "If he doesn't propose by blank date, I'm leaving. Ok, he didn't propose. If he doesn't propose by this new date, I'm going to leave. I can't live like this anymore. I can't do this to myself anymore." And that's the kernel: "I can't do this to myself anymore." I don't want to leave him. I love our love, I love our life (as stressful and difficult as it can be), I love our family, I love being with him and not being with someone who is not him, I love him being with me and not being with someone who is not me, etc., etc. In order to cope with not having what I want (him wanting to marry me), I've been telling myself to sacrifice what I want (him, our family intact, and our everyday life together). I've looked at it emotionally/romantically and as a rejection. He's always looked at it pragmatically: doesn't want to get married just to get divorced, loves me but we fight/fought. It's kind of funny, because a big part of the reason we've fought so much is because I don't feel loved (by my own index/criteria/behavior/expectations (we are VERY different), not by his - if I judge it all by his, it's very clear that he loves me). Then he reacts to the fighting by disengaging and withdrawing and not wanting to get married, which leads me to feel unloved, and it's all this insane circular nonsense. I've tried to only see it from my perspective, but if I'm honest with myself and him, I understand his perspective, as pragmatic and unromantic as it may be. He makes decisions differently than I do, and while I prefer passion and dedication no matter what, it's probably wise and smart to be cautious and see how we do over time, as those initial major stresses on our relationship fade into the past. So the latest deadline I set for myself is this coming Wednesday. And I think it's the last deadline I'm going to set. He's not going to propose. I don't want him to because I want him to, because of pressure. I want him to want that with me. Maybe he will eventually. I hope. I still hope. I still feel sad and hurt. Part of me feels that it's a hurt that can't even ever be fixed by him EVENTUALLY proposing, because I'll always know that I wanted it so much and he didn't. BUT. I'm going to stop torturing myself. And try to let myself enjoy what we have, the love he gives me. Because being married wouldn't change that. And the whole reason I want to get married is because I want that, what I already have.... I hate having to be mature.

Different here, because I changed my middle name to his last name - couldn't bear to part with my last name. When he was alive, I barely used my full name. Now I do. I want his name said and seen. It was said and seen all the time when he was alive. I like to keep that teeny part of him in the world.

It's so good of you to care about your MIL like this, and it SHOULD be her and you anticipating babies. I'm so sorry that DW never got to be a mother. This is one of the things, even 6+ years later, that still makes me angry: that DH (he was 28 and we were about to start a family) never got to be a father. Just after he died, one of my co-workers brought me a framed photo of his baby daughter to put on my desk for a while, saying that he thought her cute face might cheer me up when I was sad. I understood his motives, and he was good and kind and I know his heart was breaking for me, and so I didn't have the will to be like, "WTF?! This is the worst thing ever! Why would you think this could make me feel better?! This is YOUR kid! YOU get to be a father! He doesn't! Ever! I'll never have his child!," etc., etc. Most people are well-meaning, though some are more selfish and blind than others, and some are just a bit off in their efforts, though they are doing everything they can think of to be caring. Another of my friends consistently showed me "funny" photos of her twin daughters to make me smile, though all I could think is, "He's dead, so all of our babies are dead." This is why we call people DGIs. They don't get it. It's not their fault, and they mean no ill will, but they simply don't get it. I'm thinking of you, and sending you thoughts of strength to face all the things that come.

Yes yes yes yes! Just reading this made me feel a little secondhand-high on freedom and joy in life. It is true bravery to shed our preconceptions of ourselves, and the handed-down judgments of others. Go you! Yay!

I'm sorry. I hope you're on your way back out and up. What I find now is that the days that hurt, somewhat like yours, are "inspired" by wanting THE PRESENT to be better and easier and more ideal than it is, rather than mourning the past or pining for it - brought on by actual problems in the now, rather than finding problems in the now or finding the now lesser because of what was. Just a difference in focus, but a difference nonetheless, even though it can all be entwined and entangled and caught up together. Not sure if I'm making sense.

Just read a few entries. I want to say, "It's great!," but that seems like such a strange thing to say about such a topic. I guess I'll just say I really appreciate what it is you're doing and saying. xo

I'm going to say this on every single thread on which it's relevant: It's not "touchy feely" to say that wanting to have sex, or wanting to have sex without a relationship, (or actually going ahead and having sex) does not mean you lack dignity or self-respect. I don't care how many times I have to say it. I'm going to keep saying it. I really don't understand the connection between private consensual physical enjoyment of yourself and another, a natural human urge, with morality or shame or self-esteem or self-respect. To me, there is nothing shameful about sex. (Chasing or throwing oneself at a person who is not interested is not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about sex without emotions/commitment/relationship.) Edited, in response to a friend who will remain nameless calling me on this, to add: I realize that to some people, sex and shame ARE all tangled up, and I realize that to some people, "casual" sex is not "respectable." I'm not saying I speak for anyone other than myself. I personally cannot understand the shame. I personally believe it shouldn't be.

Go you! It takes bravery. I took an extremely brief trip alone during the first year, and then a longer international trip at about two years. I think one of the most valuable things we can give ourselves is the opportunity to learn how to enjoy our own company, to force ourselves to learn that. For me, that two years trip changed so much for me - opened me up inside, gave me a boost of empowerment and freedom I really needed. I'm thinking of you!

I agree with the "cruel" assessment. I'm trying to imagine being that woman, showing up possibly nervous or self-conscious, and being seen and then instantly ditched. I cannot imagine how crushing and humiliating and upsetting that would feel, even completely acknowledging that at a "good person" or soul level, the defect is most certainly in the rejector and not the rejected. Why inflict hurt like that on someone? Terribly unkind.

It is not politics to be bothered by a man saying I have lost my self-respect because I have had sex with someone with whom I wasn't in a relationship. I realize he wasn't saying it to me, but take the logic he's setting up, and apply it, and plain and simple: it's insulting. What you're saying, serpico, and what Portside said are not the same. I get being anti-stir, but you stated a counterpoint in an objective way, an actual concern: casual sex can damage a person psychologically. Ok, something to think about maybe. TOTALLY different than saying what you have to lose is your self-respect. That's judgment and shaming. (Also, it's important to take it all in context, where the poster gave NO indication whatsoever that she was struggling with issues of whether she could respect herself if she had sex outside of a commitment/relationship.)

I don't think she was seeking an answer. I think she was making a rhetorical point.

Congrats!!!!!