When I try to work out how to be me

One of the many things I’ve learned in these last few months is that you’re never quite sure how you’re going to feel about anything.  Things I’ve dreaded – my birthday, putting up the Christmas tree, singing Auld Lang Syne at New Year – turn out to be much less emotional than I imagined, while other things – a walk in the park, a beautiful view, a book – turn out to be emotional rollercoasters, that invariably end up with me a snivelling wreck at the bottom.

One thing I’ve been very clear about was that I wanted to spend Christmas and New Year with my family in Scotland.  Although my parents are dead, I have nieces, nephews and cousins there that I get on with very well, and I knew that the warm, busy and fun way that they celebrate the festive season would allow me and my daughters to be supported and cared for.

On the first day there, my lovely niece said to me:  ‘Whatever you want to do is fine by us. You just do you!’    Perfect, I thought.  Followed by,  but what is ‘me’?

When you’re in a couple, you get used to thinking as a couple. Automatically and unconsciously shedding thoughts and ideas that you know won’t appeal to your partner, working within parameters that you know you’ll BOTH be happy with, only considering holidays/furniture/friends/invitations that you know will meet the least resistance.  Compromising.  But when that partner is no longer there, do you still work within those designated lines?  And if you don’t, how do you find what makes you, as a single person with only yourself to please, happy?

Take, as an example, choosing curtains.  After the dreaded task of sorting through and disposing of my husbands things, our bedroom seemed so empty, dreary and cold.  I decided that a new pair of curtains might cheer it up and make it feel cosier, so I went to John Lewis’s curtain hall.   As I browsed their substantial selection, I realised that I had absolutely no idea what I wanted.  My husband and I could only ever agree on three colours – blue, yellow and beige – and they dominate our home’s decor. But on this shopping trip did I want to stick to those colours?  In theory I could have anything, but I didn’t know what I wanted or how to decide. Two visits and a week of pondering later, I chose blue, because it’s my favourite colour, in an Ikat pattern with daring shades of grey. Within minutes of hanging the curtains, I realised I’d made a mistake.

Two weeks later, I was chatting with an old friend who asked how I was finding being alone in the house.  ‘After all,’ she said, ‘it’s years since you lived on your own.’  At first I felt quite miffed by what she’d said.  I’d happily and successfully lived on my own for a decade before I got married.  I know how to do all those practical things like changing lightbulbs and plugs, using a drill, and dealing with the household finances . But then it dawned on me that while I was ahead on the practicalities, I felt much less confident about how I wanted to live? What is my style? What kind of furniture do I like? What colours make me happy?

Of course, this may all seem totally inconsequential in the context of a life lost.  And in many ways it is.  But in the context of me rebuilding my life, jettisoning the plans that my husband and I had to renovate our kitchen, to visit Pisa in the spring, to take a trip to China, and trying to devise new plans involving just me, these questions are pretty fundamental. They’re the questions I need to answer to help me discover and rediscover myself so that I can create a happy home for myself and my daughters, and a fulfilling life for me.   

It’s both sad and exciting.  A voyage of discovery. One I’d much rather NOT be on, but one I don’t have much choice about undertaking.  And hopefully as it progresses, I’ll begin to understand how to do ‘me’.

MY NICE TRIP FOR DECEMBER

At the beginning of my 60^th year I decided I’d aim to do at least one nice thing a month, and for December it was my festive stay in Scotland, which involved a memorable trip to the seaside!  My nephew married his very lovely fiance at Seamill Hydro on the Ayrshire coast. At one end of the hotel’s wedding room is a floor to ceiling plate glass window that overlooks the sea, and it was against this stunning backdrop that they were wed in a traditional Scottish ceremony.  My walk along the beach (pictured) the following morning was definitely bracing, but it was also life-affirming to hear the waves crash on the shore and feel that soft, fresh wind on my face. A simple but glorious way to finish off the happiest of occasions!