The Unfinished Woman – Grief, Loss and the Long View

My last two posts were about about grief and loss - you can read them HERE. I'm at that age, closer to 70 than I’d like, where I think about my losses quite a bit. The loss of identity as my roles and responsibilities shifted from full-time mom to grandmother, employee to retiree, from the woman I thought I was supposed to be to the one I am becoming. Don’t misunderstand me, these shifts are all good, but come with change and therefore a sense of loss at what was.

And then there’s the changes in my body - arthritis taking over the outside of my knees making it harder to jump as I navigate my grandson's hopscotch, hopping on one foot and then on two. The deep squats I used to be able to do easily, now limited to a semi-squat. Running is out – a slow jog is possible, in a pinch.

What’s caught me off guard hasn’t been the larger changes or losses. I’ve expected those. It’s the quiet, everyday ones that leave me wondering what the future holds as midlife extends into my later years.

Grief and loss haven’t been easy to experience and have often challenged me in ways not anticipated. It’s taken time and energy to allow intense feelings to work their way through my mind and body. I’d like to tell you that it gets easier. But even to this day I find myself feeling that unmistakeable feeling of loss – from the past, from today, and what’s yet to be known.

However, what’s interesting is that I can honestly say that without grief and loss, my life wouldn’t be what it is. Embedded within is a long view that has given me opportunity and experience – not without pain and sometimes fear thrown in for good measure.

Mary Pipher describes life as a cycle of struggle and adaptation. I marvel at how resilient we can be and how we are able to hold struggle and adaptation at the same time.

The long view doesn’t always emerge clearly at the beginning when grief and loss leave us at our most vulnerable. And yet, I’ve often found myself, step by step, walking through the maze of feelings, emerging from a dense fog that’s kept me prisoner, only to find courage and hope for something more, something new, something not anticipated.

My coaching business came to be in part because I knew my brother would want me to create something that gave me joy. Although I was never to see him again, his voice kept reminding me to “just do it”. It was something he’d say when I complained I didn’t have the confidence or wherewithal to follow a dream.

About two years ago I stood at a crossroads with my weight and health — a turning point that would push me to make lasting changes and begin to recover parts of me I'd hidden away for so long. I grieved who I might have been had I known what I know now about what I needed and how to get there. I continue to take one step and then another into the long view.

I see more of me as I embrace self-compassion and have empathy for the person I’ve been in years gone by. Someone who’s forgiven herself for mistakes and foibles – both known and unknown.

My courage has grown with each imperfect and faltering step forward, unlocking the cage to perfection, taming the need to compare, releasing me from diet culture and its shadow, failure.

The question “who am I now?” continues to unfold reminding me that I am an unfinished woman with a mission to explore and celebrate who I am becoming. The emotions I squashed, the conversations I was afraid to have, the beliefs I lived by that left me feeling I was never enough, and the needs I tossed to the side – all are finally finding their place in my past where they belong.

In retrospect, the question isn’t “who am I now?”. Instead I think it’s “who am I becoming?”

As parts of me emerge and change, growing older, bolder, W.I.S.E.R., I will continue to grieve and hold my losses in one hand while reminding myself that there is space in the other to continue this quest of becoming. I’m up for the journey until my body and spirit decide my life’s work here is done. 

As Mary Pipher suggests, the long view is available to all of us. So, if grief and loss have found you, hold them gently in your hand and when ready, begin taking tiny steps into the long view. Your journey to becoming awaits.

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If any of this has stirred something in you, and if you’d like more questions and prompts to write with, this week's newsletter, The W.I.S.E.R. Woman’s Guide, includes three reflective writing prompts to take you deeper into your own story.

Sometimes the most important conversation we can have is the one we have with ourselves - on the page, in our own time, in our own words.

And, if the you’re unfinished woman with parts waiting to be explored, EFT tapping combined with reflective writing can be a gentle and powerful way to process what's been sitting unacknowledged for too long. If you're curious about working together, I'd love to hear from you.

Thanks for reading.

Joan