My husband died.

It took a bit of time to admit that I needed help.  Professional help. 

The Karin of before is no longer the Karin of today.  I wasn’t dealing with that well.

You might be struggling with this as well, this concept of “identity”. 

I did all the things I knew how to do.  I became a frequent flyer at my doctor’s office.  Imagine the poor intake nurse’s surprise when she asked me the screening questions to see if I was a danger to myself.

Are you depressed?  Yes

Have you thought about hurting yourself? Yes.

Are you safe in your home?  As long as I am not in it, then sure.

This wasn’t a Hallmark movie any longer.  I was in real trouble.

I got myself a grief coach, a therapist, a psychiatrist, all the things I could think of.  I still wasn’t magically “sane”.

Then my doctor brought up the concept of Ikigai.

Holy cow. Finally an answer to why I wasn’t feeling fulfilled.

Ikigai is a Japanese concept for “a reason for being”.  It identifies four basic needs to be happy with our identity.  What you love.  What you are good at.  What the world needs.  What you can be paid for.

All of a sudden, I felt seen.  My reason for being before Matt died is a completely different picture than today.  What fulfilled me prior to May 21, 2023 doesn’t still ring true.  Apparently, the fancy Venn diagram from elementary school was finally going to be useful. (Unless you were too busy playing Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego).

The second I got home, I stuck the printout my doctor gave me directly on my office bulletin board.

I’m not in that sweet spot where all four things come together.

I’ve changed.

These two different identities that live in my head rent-free do not have the same reason for being.

When I found my husband, life as I knew it stopped.  I became a completely different person right in that moment.  I was broken, my optimism disappeared, my hopes for the future were discarded.

I didn’t want to live.

Oh goodness, that’s a hard statement to write down.

“I didn’t want to live.”

That’s not how we are supposed to speak as mentally healthy, functioning humans.

It was my reality.  I went to the cemetery every day and told Matt that I would join him soon.  I just had to take care of some paperwork around the house.  I wanted to die but I didn’t want to leave a mess for the people behind me. 

I didn’t really want to die.

I wanted him back.

I wanted to be with Matt. 

To be with his energy.  To feel his hug.  To feel his unending love even when I was an asshole. 

Oh lord, I miss him.

Admitting that still fills me with shame.   Right after Matt passed away, I felt like the weakest, most lame widow living.  In my mind, everyone else was a CrossFit widow and I was at the circuit training for fatties barely moving and planning on pigging down on pizza after burning a couple calories.

It’s amazing how we can speak to ourselves so poorly.

I need to find my new center.

I asked myself those four questions.

What do I love?  I love finding my community of widows. 

What am I good at?  Connecting with people who are walking this widow journey. 

What does the world need?  Definitely not more judgmental, cruel people.  The world needs more people who actually give a crap about each other.

What can I be paid for?  Maybe, one day I can turn this passion and purpose into a career that will also support me.

If you are up for it, ask yourself the same questions.  Your answers will be different from mine.  That’s ok.  It’s about what fills your cup.

From now on, I’m going to allow myself to do something outside of obligation.  I no longer want to be what society expects.  I want to be a person that feels happy and fulfilled.  Life is too damn short to do things so you can meet what people “think” about you.  The people who matter will be there.

So, I’m going to follow my passion, my need for purpose, and surround myself with people who build me up rather than tear me down.  That’s what Matt would have wanted for me.  I’m no longer going to allow fear to drive my life.

I am going to continue to figure out what Karin 2.0’s Ikigai looks like.  For the first time since becoming a widow, I truly feel like I’m finding my way.

I love myself.  Most of the time.  I know as I continue to find my way, I will continue to learn to love myself.

I wish that for all of us.