Safe and Secure No More

Let's talk about one of the biggest losses we face after our person leaves us - our security. The big loss is our person, of course. But the sense of security that is lost is huge, and can be near constant if we aren't careful. As a self assured woman I was surprised by the feelings of fear that hit. I've traveled the world alone. I've traveled the world alone with a baby. I lived alone before I met my husband. I've taken my boys when they were younger on spring break trips when my husband couldn't get away. None of those experiences left me fearful. But now, nearly 10 months into the loss, I find myself more fearful than ever.

Shortly after my husband passed I found myself visiting an older adult from church. (On a side note her husband passed 5 years ago and she was talking about him as though he had just passed. which made me sad. I would hope to be further along in 5 years...) My older car died in her driveway. I knew what to do. I called a tow truck. I called my 16 year old to come pick me up. I dealt with the car repair, making the decisions that I really don't know how to make. And then it hit me. No one knew where I was that night. Yes, my son knew I was visiting someone from church. Yes he can track my location on Life360. But he is 16. He is not responsible for me. After everything settled down and we finally got home that night I asked him when he would have started to worry about me if I hadn't come home. His answer made me realize, possibly for the first time, that I really was alone.

Just a few weeks ago on our way home from a trip with my boys my 19 year old Chinese son was detained by TSA. The panic that hit was real. He is an American citizen but he is also an immigrant. Sitting on the bench outside of the TSA line, waiting for my oldest son to find his way back to me, with no one able to tell me where he been taken or why, I was alone. My person wasn't there to comfort me. To feel my fear and outrage. He wasn't there to help me get answers. he wasn't there to hold my hand. He wasn't there. I was there, sitting on the hard gray bench, holding my shoes in my hands while trying, unsuccessfully, not to cry.

My son was fine. Our trip home continued with nothing more scary than a 3 hour weather delay. But I was not fine. Internally I was a hot mess the rest of the day. And I was angry. Angry at our government, angry at the world. But truly? Angry that I had to deal with my biggest fear alone.

Yesterday I walked down the stairs and saw a bunch of twigs and leaves stuffed into the crack of my front door. With no one around to talk me down my thoughts immediately went to "This house has been marked for a burglary", instead of "There is a bird building a nest in my often opened front door." Cue the needless drama.

Without someone to provide a different perspective, it’s easy to spiral into negative thinking. Without our person, we can jump to terrifying conclusions.

Security. It is not noticed until it is gone. Security in knowing someone loves you more than anyone or anything in this world. Security at home, on trips. Security when you car dies late at night or your dog is barking at nothing at 3am. Security in your financial future. Security in a medical emergency or even when making lesser important medical decisions. Security in just having your person know where you are. Who you are. What you need to feel safe.

I think my friends and family would be surprised to know I feel this way. They see a strong, independent woman who makes the tough decisions all the time. Who has a home alarm system. Who bought a new car just so she didn't have to drive the old one that might die again and leave her stranded. A woman who has traveled since her husband passed and who has made every.single.financial.decision. They see a woman who is secure. I see a woman who panics when she sees a bird's nest.

Feeling safe, (your internal state), and being safe, (your external conditions), are vital for our wellbeing. When we lose that sense of security our nervous system stays on high alert. Sleep is harder, brains are foggy and everything is just more complicated than it needs to be.

When we feel secure our emotions are more stable. We sleep better and have more clarity. Our bodies and our minds become more resilient, more able to handle stress and setbacks. If our mind is telling us that we are safe but our lizard brain is freaking out, grounding and breathing exercises can help. (Both of these techniques got me through the airport drama.)

But sometimes it isn't our lizard brain or overthinking. (Should I have put that money into that HYSA? What would my husband have done with it?) Sometimes we do have to make decisions to protect our physical safety, now that we are without our person. I did this by making an appointment to get my home alarm fixed and buying a new car. I do a deep dive review before booking a hotel to assure that I will be in a safe neighborhood. I select the "woman driver only" option when I am taking a ride share by myself. I make sure my sons know where I am going and when to expect me home. Every little errand, appointment and coffee with my mother in law gets entered into our shared calendar so they know where I should be and when. Assuring I feel as a secure as I can, while still being very much alone, can feel like a full time job.

Making sure I am as safe and secure as I can be helps to relieve some of the fear. It doesn't fully go away though. Moving through life alone, despite being covered by family and friends is not easy. These feelings of insecurity were new to me and I am still processing them, learning to live with them. They are a part of who I am now, always on medium to high alert, knowing my person is not by side. Not at home waiting for me to return. Not thinking about me or wanting to keep me safe. It is a very vulnerable feeling, and I don't do vulnerable. Security comes in so many forms. Bodily safety. Financial. Parenting decisions. Our sense of security is shaped by past experiences and relationships. It is not thought about in our day to day lives until is no longer there. And then it is all we think about.