​I have been stepping outside of my comfort zone a fair bit lately in the creative part of my life. I went on a drama course because I’ve lost confidence on stage, and that is pushing me into improvising and devising, rather than relying on words on a page. I joined a group for writers and theatremakers and read some new work there, and I’ve been discussing how that work could perhaps become a performance piece. I’m coming towards the editing stage of a writing project, and that will go to an editor next, which is setting off my imposter syndrome.
 
The reason that I can do this is because I know that my comfort zone is there for me to go back to. A bit like a pet rat exploring a new room – she can step outside of her nest, because she knows that her nest is still there for her to go back to, and she will step out and run back repeatedly until she knows the whole room.
 
This reminded me of how I felt in the early stages of grief. Tim was my comfort zone, my safe space – I described him as the centre of my turning world – and when he died suddenly it was gone in a moment.
 
I had to rebuild my confidence and comfort zone piece by piece, and some days it felt like I would add a brick, and two bricks would fall off. Seven years on and it’s there. That awful loss means I know that nothing is guaranteed. But for the moment, I will go out, play with words, and come back to safety. 

The title for this blog post comes from the eponymous podcast by the wonderful Laura McInerny (Laura’s TED Talk is the reason that, as a widow, I talk about moving forward, not moving on). Terrible, Thanks for Asking is a place where people can get honest about how they really feel.

As widows, we’re not always honest about how we feel. Sometimes it’s because we don’t want to upset the people we are talking to. Sometimes we want to protect ourselves. Sometimes we just want to get on with our day. This is your reminder that sometimes we need to be honest and be authentic, and let people know what grief actually feels like.