One Year Later: What I Love About Being Single

Today’s list is harder to share than was yesterday’s list. Even though this one feels like much better news, I also feel the need to offer a few disclaimers. First, the beautiful things I’ve discovered inside of single living do not replace Steve or the life I had with him. This is standalone beauty that creates a happier, healthier life – a life in which I have surprising amounts of hope and joy. Secondly, these things do not cancel out grief. I will always grieve losing my beloved, but I remember the very day I determined that grief would no longer be the boss of me. It was an intentional decision to carry grief rather than being carried by it and I couldn’t have made the decision a moment sooner than I did; I had to wait til I was ready. Finally, embracing these aspects of my new life has not come without struggle, prayer, counsel and a fair amount of emotional chaos in the process. This is where I’ve landed now, one year in; I’m sure thngs will keep changing and evolving as I go.

Having said all that, I give you The Things I’m Embracing & Enjoying About Being Single:

1. Spontaneity. I only have one son at home, but he has a very busy schedule and so other than about three dinners each week, I’m mostly on my own. This can be lonely or fun; I choose fun. I choose to go to happy hour with friends. I choose trips to the beach instead of being jealous of everyone else’s beach trip photos. I choose popcorn and red wine for dinner. I choose to watch A Few Good Men for the 700th time on a Saturday morning or study in bed until the wee hours. I choose no makeup on my day off. I choose to go out with friends after a wedding and not come home until such time as my son is sitting worried on the couch (no kidding – really happened – and I don’t choose that anymore.) I really do love this season of life where my free time is my own and I can steer it any direction I choose.

2. Self-investment. I am learning to spend time and money on things that bring me joy and/or security without guilt or apology. The extended warranty on my car. A new dress on a hard day. Healthy food. Good sheets. Vacations in which I plan all my favorite things with all my favorite people, even though it costs more than doing one thing in one place for a week. I work hard and have saved and planned even harder to create a life for Josiah and I that includes a few happy extras, and I am intentional about stopping to absorb them with gratitude.

3. Beauty. I’m not even sure how to articulate all I feel about this, but I am embracing the gift of beauty in the things around me like I never have before. After Steve died, I painted walls and changed furniture and it’s not at all the way Steve would have wanted it, but this house is now exactly me.  At night I go out on my deck lined with string lights and sit beneath the stars, absorbing the immense beauty of it all. I am constantly buying new candles for my desk because they change the way I feel about studying in the morning. Just beauty. All around. Waiting to be found and absorbed and enjoyed. It’s not that I couldn’t have done this while I was married, it’s just that I didn’t. Not like this.  So I’m going to tag this one as a side benefit of single life and no one can stop me.

4. Reinvention. I’ve mentioned this before, but I have loved Steve Stern since I was 18 years old. My life grew around his. My dreams formed to his, which is appropriate and good, but he’s gone now – so what happens next? I can either spend the rest of my life mourning the Bo that was intertwined with Steve, or I can find what this Bo looks like – this new me who has opinions (so, so many of them!) and desires and gifts and passion. It’s not that I’m a different person, I’m still me, but I’m me in a different way and different season than I have ever been before.  The people I’ve seen deal with grief the most successfully are those who choose an “all bets off” approach to their future. They quit the jobs they hate, pursue the education they’ve always wanted, take the vacation, buy the shoes, live, breathe, become. That’s what I want for this new Bo.

5. Um…okay, tricky one here: Male friendships.  Because the topic of dating and remarriage has come up so frequently since Steve died, I feel very watched in this regard. [Quick Optional Backstory: I went to a Christian college that was very strict (very, very!) in its handling of male/female relationships. Unless a man and woman knew their future was leading to marriage, friendship was not really encouraged. This meant that any glance toward a person of the opposite sex led to wild speculation and fast-moving rumors about the glance and the guy and your future. I’m not criticizing that, just explaining that this is my lens. End of back story.]  The thing is: I’m not 18 anymore and I’m not at all ready to date or remarry, and yet I still carried that same all-or-nothing view of male/female friendships. But somewhere in the course of this topsy-turvy year, I decided that was silly and that my life would benefit from having single male friends. So I worked on that and I don’t have a lot of  ’em, but I do have a few and they are important to me. They offer a perspective on single life and single parenting that enriches my own. They also even occasionally offer a way out of attending weddings alone, which is a gift to me even though it might be a little shocking to the watching world. Bottom line: I am learning to enjoy this season of life and the friendships that come from it without apologizing, justifying or explaining.  This has been a win and has added happiness to my heart.  (P.S.  My daughter told me that telling the world I am not apologizing for having male friends is brave, but not as brave as just doing it and not apologizing. Heh.  I think she has a fair point, but there is something in me that wanted to get this out for other widows who might be looking for permission to do the same thing.)

6. Courage. I’m far less afraid to make mistakes at this stage of life, and much less concerned about what people will think if I fail.  I don’t know if it’s because I’m older or single or have survived a tough fight, but I’m more okay with things being a little messy, a little in-progress than I’ve ever been before and I like it.

So, that’s part of my list.  It’s not everything, but that’s the gist of what I’m discovering as I begin to re-enter my life one year after death. This year has been – wow – amazing. Awful. Beautiful. Terrifying. Difficult. Astounding. Miraculous.  And I am ending it believing more strongly than ever in the God who makes all things new, and entirely certain that Steve would be proud of me. Sometimes I think I can hear his happy laughter when I make a brave decision to move forward.

I’ve heard from so many widows and widowers this week who are also walking out this journey. I have no universal advice except this: believe that you can live again and then take baby steps in that direction.  My list may not work for you for a million reasons.  Every journey is different.  But I don’t think we can go wrong if we always walk toward life.

With hope,

Bo