Yesterday was a tough day at my house. We lost our eldest dog. He was a precious Rhodesian Ridgeback called Mowgli. He was our big dog, but he was the softy. He truly had a gentle nature and the sweetest soul. We knew our time with him was limited as he had been sick, but it still hurts to lose a buddy so dear to you. Nothing prepares you fully. He died in my husband’s arms as we were carrying him into the vet. Dog-lovers will know that losing a dog leaves a hole in both your heart and your home.
Needless to say, yesterday both my husband and I were heartbroken; completely and utterly heartbroken. The holes in our hearts were raw, and we were coping with the shock of his departure. We just needed a day to do whatever it was that made us feel a little bit happier. I described it as a day for intense self-care. I was doing whatever I could to calm and comfort my heart. There was no room for anything but stuff I loved.
Although my husband and I had many things that we wanted to do together to help us cope, we also had other things that were unique to us that we felt compelled to do to help us heal.
We had in common that we wanted to be with our family. We each found joy in being able to talk it out, play with our boys and share a meal together. Being with each other and our family helped us share both the pain and the love. It warmed us both up.
Yet in other areas, we differed significantly. One of my ultimate forms of bliss is wrapping myself up in bed and completely relaxing. It gives me such a sense of warmth, comfort and safety. I so needed some snuggle-up quiet time yesterday. It’s a way for me to withdraw from the world and just go into my shell for a moment, and it always makes me feel better. I also took a long hot shower, another form of complete relaxation and comfort for me. My personal forms of self-care and healing were all focused on slowing down and withdrawing a little.
Yet my husband was the complete opposite. Lying around in bed I’m sure he would see as a form of mooching around and he doesn’t really subscribe to any forms of moochy relaxation. So while I jumped into bed and snuggled up, he went for a run. He needed activity to take his mind of things, and to get out into the elements and feel the fresh air in his lungs. Something I view as “too-hard-work” is a complete form of bliss for him. For him it is a form of escape, and a way to physically let go of the excess emotional energy.
What it highlighted to me was that we each find bliss in different things. We can’t expect our romantic partner, our children, or our friends to all experience the same levels of joy from the things we may consider blissful.
Yesterday, my husband and I each gave the other enough personal space to do the things we needed to do to heal our hearts just a little. There were no questions asked; we immediately had a mutual understanding that it was what the other needed.
But it made me think about how we relate to each other. Too often I believe we neglect to see that other people might need something different than we do to refill their reserves. We see the world through different lenses. We are all as different in our psychological make-up as we are in our physical make-up, and we all need different things. Happiness isn’t a one-size fits all.
Yet we are so prone to assuming that if it works for us, it must work for everyone else. We forget that the world isn’t experienced in the same way by everyone. And all too often, we feel frustrated and let down when we feel that someone doesn’t want to do the things we want to do, or somehow can’t read our minds and know what we need from them.
We’re as unique on the inside as we are out the outside. No two of us are the same. We all have different needs, wants and desires, and we are the only ones that can be responsible for taking care of our well-being. We can’t expect someone else to fill us back up; we have to do that for ourselves.
If you need a certain type of support from your partner, ask for it. You can’t expect people to read your mind when they don’t have your mind. If you don’t feel good about doing something a friend wants you to do, don’t do it. You have to be willing to prioritize your well-being over constantly trying to keep other people happy.
We will forever miss our big soft boy. The hole will always be in our hearts. But after a day of grieving and healing the way we respectively needed to, I know that we were both able to let go of some of the pain yesterday. We listened to our hearts, and did what we needed to do.