Who Are You?

One of my grief group members recently told me something that surprised him about himself.  He said he needs human touch now. That might not sound particularly remarkable until you know something else about him. He has never been a hugger. His words, not mine. But since his wife died, something has changed. He finds himself hugging people, looking for human connection. He even asked whether our grief group ought to begin or end by simply hugging the person next to us.

He said: “I feel like I am a new person now. Not only is every day different, but I am different. Not that it is bad, but I have changed.”

I think he has put words to something we do not talk about enough. Grief does not only change our circumstances. It can change us. And that can be disorienting because while we are trying to figure out how to live without someone we love, we may also be trying to figure out who this new version of ourselves is.

I can’t help but hear The Who at this point. "Who are you?" Pete Townshend was asking the question in a very different context. He was wrestling with his own life, with drinking, with where rock was going, with where he was going, and with questions of authenticity and meaning. He later described the song as a kind of prayer—a way of trying to sort out who he was and what he believed.

Different circumstances. Same question. Big changes in life have a way of doing that to us. They shake loose the assumptions we had about who we were, what mattered, how life was supposed to work, and what came next.

Grief can do that in a powerful way. When someone we love dies, we do not only lose them. We lose the version of ourselves that existed in relationship with them. Husband. Wife. Caregiver. Partner. The person who always had someone to text first. The person who cooked for two. The person who knew what Saturday morning looked like. And now the question becomes:

Who are you?

You May Not Be the Same Person

Grief can change us in ways we expect and in ways we do not. Some people become more affectionate. Some more guarded. Some more compassionate. Some more anxious. Some more willing to say what they mean because suddenly time feels different. Some discover they have far less patience for things that once seemed important.

And other changes are harder to name. You may find yourself wanting more people around you. Or fewer. You may care less about work and more about relationships. You may become more spiritual, less spiritual, or simply less certain. You may discover that things you once tolerated now make you crazy, while things you once worried about barely register anymore. It doesn’t mean grief has necessarily made you better or worse. It means something enormous has happened to you, and you are adapting to a life that is not the life you had before.

Often we talk about grief as though the goal is to “get back to yourself.” I am not sure that is always possible or even desirable. The person you were before the death lived in a different world. That person had different routines, different expectations, different relationships, and a different future sitting out in front of them.

You are still you. You may also be becoming someone you have never been before. Or, you but with different highlights and tones and shades. Fifty Shades of…you?

You Do Not Have to Become Who You Were

One of the harder things about grief is that other people may still expect the old version of you. The one who always hosted Thanksgiving and answered every phone call. The one who went to every meeting, remembered every birthday, kept everybody else organized, and somehow knew where the extra batteries were.

Grief changes our capacity, especially when it is most intense. It can also change our priorities and what we want. That can feel unsettling. It can also create guilt. If I laugh more, does that mean I am forgetting them? If I need people now when I never did before, am I becoming weak? If I want to travel, date, move, change jobs, simplify my life, or spend more time with people I love, am I somehow leaving the person who died behind?

I don’t think so. Changing does not mean forgetting. It does not mean the relationship mattered less. It means you are still alive. Ben Franklin famously said there are two things we can count on: death and taxes. I disagree. You can choose not to pay your taxes. You may go to jail, but technically, you have a choice. Death and change are harder to negotiate with.

Life changes. And change is rarely as brutal or abrupt as when death enters the picture. The person from my grief group who suddenly wants hugs is not betraying the man he used to be. He is discovering something about the man he is now. Maybe grief stripped away some old assumptions. Maybe it exposed a need that was always there. Maybe he simply understands human connection differently now. He does not have to decide whether that is better or worse. He can just notice it.

Get Curious About Who You Are Becoming

One of the healthiest things we can do when grief changes us may be to get curious. Instead of asking, "What is wrong with me?" Try asking: "What matters to me now? What do I need now that I did not need before? What do I have less patience for? What do I want more of? What parts of myself am I discovering?"

You may not like every answer. That is OK. You are not filling out an application for New and Improved You. You are getting acquainted with yourself again and that may take a while. Grief does not just ask us to learn how to live without someone we love, it asks us to learn who we are now.

Remember

You do not have to return to who you were.

One Step Forward

Take a few minutes this week and finish this sentence:

Since they died, I have noticed that I…

Do not judge the answer. Maybe you need people more. Maybe you need them less. Maybe you cry more easily. Laugh more loudly. Say no more often. Hug people you never would have hugged before. Just notice. You may be meeting a part of yourself you have never met before.

Consider This

How has grief changed you, and what might happen if you stopped trying to become your old self again?

Until next week, remember: grief may change your routines, your relationships, your plans, and even parts of who you are. You are still you. Just perhaps with different highlights and tones and shades.

Peace,
Tom