One of the greatest challenges I face in my grief is self-loathing. Suse had the ability to do what I now find almost impossible: she was able to love me. I really don’t know how to do that. I liked who I was with her. I hate who I am without her. And no amount of “you-just-need-to-find-your-true-individual-self-and-be-the-best-version-of-you-you-can-be” is going to fix that. Feel good pop-psychology won’t work.
Because we were a partnership. We worked well as a team. Both of us were better people with the other at our side. Most people who knew us saw that. And if she was still alive, no-one would begrudge the level of interdependence we shared. In fact, they’d encourage it. Because that’s what God intended for married couples: to be intertwined; one-flesh; mutually reliant on the other. I valued that more than anything else in life. Finding your “true-individual-self” would never have been the answer if she was still alive and so it can’t be the answer in her death. Individualism won’t solve loneliness. It will only exacerbate it.
I don’t like who I am without her. I lack confidence, purpose and drive. I lack support, understanding and companionship. I lack personality, colour, and interest. I don’t feel at all desirable to be around. I feel I suck the life out of every social situation I find myself in. I’m not easy to be around. I feel that the best thing for others is for me not to be there. Some might say that’s not true. But I know it is. Because I’ve known others in the same situation I am now in and I have not wanted to be with them because of the drain it puts on me. I don’t blame them. I understand it. Because I don’t enjoy who I am without her.
I’ve realised lately that one of the most extraordinary gifts Suse gave me was the freedom to be entirely candid without any fear of judgement. I could be fully me in her company. Metaphorically naked without shame. Whether that be with a stupid joke, or a loose comment, or a temperamental outburst, she accepted me. She loved me. She let me be me. And without her I’m not. I hate who I am without her. No amount of “find-your-true-self” can fix that.
Self-loathing. It’s a big challenge. Perhaps my greatest one currently. How do I overcome that? Maybe the answer is in Christmas. The time when God to be with us (Matt 1:23) in order to save us (Matt 1:21). Loving us when we were unlovable. Tolerating us when we were intolerable. Coming near to us when the natural thing to do would be to avoid us. That’s Christmas. When God entered our darkness in the person of Jesus Christ to share his light. And that God who came near, after suffering so much for us, promised to be with us to the very end of this suffering age (Matt 28:20). There is true companionship.
I hate who I am without Suse. But I’m glad of who I am with Jesus. The two don’t cancel each other out. They co-exist. I’m not happy. But I have joy. Sadness is just enjoying a brief moment dancing on a bedrock of unshakable assurance in Christ. The answer to my self-loathing is not to look within as a first step. It’s to look out and see that there is one who loves me and who accepts me, as unlovable and intolerable as I may feel. I don’t need to love me as a matter of priority. I need to know Christ loves me. Just as Susie did, but more. And irrevocably so.
