Becoming

Identity After Devastation

written by Karin Kendall

July 7, 2026

Becoming.

The concept is so beautiful.

A sense of hope. Transformation.  New life. 

I yearn for it.

Becoming.

There was that one time I became something I never wanted to be.  The time that I stopped believing I could become anything else.

I became a widow.

It was May 2023 and my sweet Matt had passed away.  In an instant my life changed.  I was no longer a wife, a partner, a best friend. 

I became the dark, unlikeable label that I never wanted to be.  I’d see somebody who knew me and the head tilts and avoidance were rampant.

I became a widow.

I embodied what I had become.  The hopes and dreams of the future disappeared.  True joy and peace were nothing but an Instagram post, while I sobbed over my life ending.

I still wanted to become something else.

I just had no idea how.

My therapist and I have had many conversations about grief, life, success, failure, imposter syndrome, and perfection.  We started talking about what was holding me back.

The light bulb came on.

I feel like I don’t deserve to become anything else.

Becoming a widow is my identity.  Why do I deserve anything better?

To me, the evidence was undeniable.

My husband died.  It’s proof I am undeserving of joy.

I was never able to have children.  It's proof I am undeserving of being a mother. 

I ache with loneliness.  It's proof I am undeserving of love. 

My work thinks I am a loose cannon.  It's proof I am undeserving of a support system.

Becoming. 

How do I break this cycle?  How do I allow myself to continue in life despite the unthinkable thing I have become?

How do I realize I am somebody who deserves to be? 

My husband’s death wasn’t because the universe is saying I did something wrong.  The future has changed, but I still deserve to become what I need to be for myself.

I need to sit in these feelings.

I need to acknowledge the pain of loss.  And that I am still here.  I need to challenge myself to acknowledge why I am enough.

Becoming.

I’ve become a lot of things. 

I became a daughter, I became a teenager, I became a graduate.  I also became a wife, a homeowner, a 911 dispatcher, a friend, a lover, and a person who stands for others.

I became a person who looks beyond other people’s trauma and loves them for who they are.

I’m still becoming.

Slowly.

I’m not rushing into things.  I identify as a widow.  I am so much more than that label.

Yes, I became a widow but since then I have become other things.

I became a founder of a widow’s group, where I have had the most enjoyable experiences connecting with women in my community.

I became a “Kramma” (Karin Grandma) to my niece’s daughter. This little beautiful angel brings joy and excitement to my life.

I became a person who can acknowledge that a space isn’t safe and fulfilling and is willing to walk away.

I am a person who will love my husband until the day I die but also will choose to do everything in my power to find joy, happiness, and fulfillment.

The day I became a widow wasn’t the day I stopped becoming.  It was simply the hardest becoming of my life.

Maybe I don’t know who I am becoming, but I know I am worthy of finding out.