My husband Jacob and I were driving home and discussing plans for the week; I had previously left out some important details and we were trying to figure out a now last minute plan. Though he was frustrated, it was with gentle acceptance and his new found (and highly tested) patience that Jacob said, “It’s ok, I know this is just how you’ve always done things.” “No! It is NOT!” I quickly snapped back with.

When you lose a spouse, of course your entire life changes. There’s the obvious like your title, your relationship status, your home…but one of the aspects that’s changed I wasn’t expecting was myself. The Social Readjustment Rating Scale (or Holmes and Rahe Stress Scale) was developed to study the links between stress and illness…and death of a spouse is the highest ranked event. So it should be no surprise that it has such an impact on an individual. It seemed as though every piece of who I was, was changing rapidly. I was losing weight. I was experiencing anxiety. My mind was in a fog. My relationship dynamics with friends were shifting. My roles in my home were different. As I tried to make sense of the world around me, I also had to make sense of this new me.

The Bible is full of people whose lives changed so drastically they changed their name to symbolize the new self. Abram to Abraham. Sarai to Sarah. Jacob to Israel. Naomi, which means “pleasant,” changed her name to Mara, which means “bitter.” Isolation can make you feel alone, crazy…but in pausing to listen or read others stories I realized I’m not alone in this struggle between who I was and who I have become.

Sometimes I miss who I was before my life altering trauma. I miss how full her social schedule was. I miss the friendships that changed. Being able to remember things short term, being able to plan and organize, being so busy and closed off I didn’t have time or space to think and feel. I’ll never be her again though. It was hard to let that go. You know what though? I can grieve losing that version of myself AND be thankful for where I am now.

I’m grateful there are parts of me I’ve got to keep. The pieces of me God wove into my very person, my very being, from my mother’s womb. My competitive spirit, my desire for what is right and just, my calm under pressure, my unshakable joy and firm trust in my Savior. And yet, there is so much that has changed.

Enter, Melissa 2.0.

That’s what I’ve come to call this “new me.” For at least the first year following the death of my husband I often found myself apologizing to friends, family, and strangers, feeling the need to explain and promise that I was not normally like this. I was once a clean, highly organized, precise planner, with a nearly photographic memory…now apologizing for messes, misses, and mistakes more often than I was used to or care for.

Yea, sometimes I focus on the pieces that make me feel broken or less than…and yet I can also see the beauty, purity, and strength that was revealed from the flames of the crucible. My heart and soul have new depths. My appreciation for the height of joy and my ability to sit in the depths of grief has grown tremendously. My empathy and compassion have matured. More than ever, I understand the importance of seeing a person for their story, their whole story, what you can see and what you can’t, and feeling with another person. My capacity for grace for myself and others grows daily. Before, I held myself (and often others) to an unrealistic standard of perfection and have since found ways to release those chains and rely on God’s perfection alone. I allowed myself to have more fun. I’ve witnessed miracles and lives changing and the Bride of Christ at work. I’ve felt true unconditional love. I’m a more patient parent. I’m a more forgiving wife. While I’m very much a (forever) work in progress, I’m proud of the new me, and I look forward to whatever God has next for me.

Join in the community and conversation and let me know in the comments:

When you lost your spouse did you feel like a different person sometimes or maybe permanently? Did it take time embracing this version of yourself? Was it difficult to maintain old relationships with the new self? What else did you think about this post, let me know!