EchoVib

I replied when possible to comments I came across on social media, and I want to reassure others that after spending 17 years in Studio 1A, I am deeply grateful for the love and unwavering support from my TODAY family behind the scenes. If someone chooses to stay away from me because I express my emotions openly (with discretion), then they are not the right match for me. Even when Michael disagreed with me about announcing my pregnancy at 5 weeks, he was my biggest cheerleader and sat beside me on live national television to share the news. That is the bar he has set, and I firmly believe someone else can step up. 

As for Miles, he is a consideration in every decision (big and small) I make, every day. I wholeheartedly believe that it is in his best interest that I am honest, authentic and vulnerable, and that I seek joy and look to the future with hope and excitement. I do not want him to ever feel ashamed about his feelings, good or bad, and I hope he feels confident in being himself and sharing who he is unapologetically. This is the only way to have meaningful relationships of any kind, and what else truly matters more in life than love and connection? There is nothing I feel more strongly about. With profound sincerity, I hope that by adding my voice and story to the fabric woven around widowhood, and simply being someone looking forward to loving again after 45, I can help break down stereotypes, dispel shame, and create a welcoming and inclusive environment that combats loneliness and fosters a sense of belonging.

Transitioning now to a recent realization, it’s been 2 years since Michael’s passing, yet my sense of time still feels distorted. Some days it feels like he was here only yesterday, while on others, it feels like our love belonged to another lifetime. Despite this, the thin membrane separating my conscious thoughts and focus remains fragile, and can be torn apart by a simple poke, unleashing the most excruciating and unbearable pain that leaves me short of breath and wondering if I’ll ever be OK again.

That being said, 2 years on, I am a completely different person. It felt like another loss to acknowledge that the version of “me” that stood by Michael’s bedside now seems foreign. Initially, the realization was scary. However, my body moved forward, and my heart and mind were dragged along somehow. What I was forced to accept, bear and carry with me has shaped how I think and feel today. I couldn’t have fathomed surviving 2 years, let alone embracing the emotional transformation that was to come.

I share this because dating can force you to confront yourself. Questions like “tell me about yourself,” “what do you enjoy,” and “what do you want” can be challenging, especially when you’ve spent some time feeling numb, only to discover that you feel vastly different now. 

It’s been fun to message with some matches online and go out with friends for drinks or dinner, with some chance encounters leading to meetings with new people. However, I’ve found myself struggling to answer simple questions and feeling unsure about how to open up. It’s as if I don’t know myself anymore, which is disconcerting because I enjoy being social and open.

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