My Fear of Dating as a Widow

I am scared to let someone love me again. As I try to open my heart to dating as a widow, I find that I have some pretty thick walls built up over time. My walls have been put there, by me, for my protection and safety. I have built the mighty fortress -- along with some moats, and a dragon -- to protect my real feelings. I just want to keep out the thing I fear the most. 

What do I fear? 

Getting hurt. 

Again. 

I am so afraid of having my heart ripped to pieces, and tossed into the fire, of burning rejection. I am so afraid of falling for someone, only to have it end with me falling on my bed, with my face drenched in tears. I am terrified to share my real and unguarded self -- the full me, the broken me, the no moats and dragon me -- with another human soul. I am scared to pull back the bandages covering the scars I've acquired, from walking through the hell of grief and sorrow. 

I am worried, that if I allow myself to really love again, I will be setting myself up to lose again. 

I mean, how much can my heart handle, really? 

I don't know? 

But my biggest fear of all would be, finding that I have become unlovable. As a widow, I have had to become such an emotionally-solid brick wall. I have had to be tough, strong, resilient, brave, courageous, and fearless for myself, and for my children. The thought of allowing cracks of vulnerability in my heart, makes me want to find a cement truck and trowel, to fill the gaps of weakness, and fortify my defenses.  

I know I need to be more vulnerable, but I do not know how? 

At least not in a relationship. 

After losing love once, I simply do not know if I can handle that kind of heartbreak again, possibly multiple times, during the dating process. Taking a step into the dating world, feels like taking a step into an emotional boxing ring. 

Am I really ready to take such an overly-exposed beating to my heart? 

Or, will dating help my heart to start really beating again? 

Either way, I have thrown myself into the dating boxing ring to find out. 

Am I crazy? 

Over the last few years, I have had interactions with men, mostly online, but some in person. I have taken some small steps of allowing myself to connect with other men, men that are not Charles. (Do you know how weird it is, to still be married for eternity to someone, while trying to date?) This in and of itself is a strange and hard thing to do. There are so many mixed emotions, while trying to open my heart in such a new and uncomfortable way. 

But I am getting there. 

I think? 

Actually, I have been on a date. A real date. A really good date. 

I will have to tell you about it some time. 

But not this time. 

I will say, the date(s) opened my eyes and heart to exciting feelings that have been buried, and dragon protected, for a very long time. But it also opened up fears and worry -- new fears -- that I have not felt before. It is interesting how often excitement and fear hang out together. At this point, excitement and fear are skipping through my heart, holding hands as friends, but I know they could quickly turn on each other.  

Is that vulnerability I feel? 

Where is the emotional cement truck when I need it?! 

You see, another strange side effect of widowhood, is how self-aware I have become. After Charles died, all of my insecurities dropped on my lap, to be sorted through, like dirty laundry. My weaknesses have kind of haunted me, and I often wonder if someone else would be willing to step into my flawed life, with a bonus package of my crazy family. (And don't forget the fire-breathing dragon. Though if you feed the dragon chocolate, it is less hostile.) 

Sure, sometimes I post nice pictures on my blog, and we can look like a cute group of people, if we put in some effort. But I often leave out all the "middle bits" of the mundane, and drudgery, that would sum up a real day, in the life of our family. Even if I share a somewhat balanced view on my blog, nothing compares to the real life chaos, that exists in the day-to-day living in our home. 

Anyway, my point is, my house is full of flawed people. We are nuts. We are loud, obnoxious, and everyone in this house has lived through trauma, death, and loss of a loved one. 

Flaws. Weakness. Baggage. Dirty laundry. 

And vulnerability oozing out all over the place. 

But you know, Charles was flawed too. Even though he is a saintly angel now, he was not always so angelic in the flesh. He had weaknesses just like the rest of us, and I loved him for it. He loved me, despite my dirty laundry list of weaknesses. We shared our flaws together, and loved each other -- because we were flawed -- not because we were perfect. I believe it is somewhere in the sharing of those vulnerabilities and weaknesses that love is found, trust is felt, and something beautiful is created. 

I want that again. 

It is strange that the thing I want the most, is also the thing I fear the most. (There is that getting out of my comfort zone thing... again. Dang it.)

I do believe in being vulnerable. I am just scared of it right now. Because I have already felt so much pain. And I do not really like pain, even though I know it is purifying. 

Pain hurts. I do not like to hurt. But not having love hurts, too. So, I already have pain. But what if I could have joy, with the pain? What if pain and joy could exist, at the same time? What if pain and joy could be friends? What if pain and joy could be lovers? 

Hmmmmm....

Perhaps, with the right person, I would breakdown my fortress walls, drain the moat, and set free the dragon. 

Love might just be worth the risk of emotional exposure. 

One day, my prince will come. 

And when he does, I hope he has a sense of humor, and some emotional dynamite. 

He is going to need it.  

P.S. The picture of me was taken right before my first date as a widow. The smile is hiding the intensity of fear that I was feeling in that moment.