Waiting for Permission

Published on 25 May 2024 at 09:22

Me being me, I find myself waiting for permission.


I feel it deep inside of me – the need to change my mind, my life.

The need to take a break and just do nothing for a while.

The need to change direction.

The need to ask a question that isn’t going to lead into an argument.

The need to acknowledge my feelings.


I wait for permission.

I wait one more day.

I wait for someone to say something first.

I wait for someone to notice the ache of my heart, the emptiness that is tangible in my life.

I wait for things to get better . . . or worse.

I wait.


The person’s permission that I wait for – is Rick’s.


He was understanding, caring, and sensitive to me.

He seemed to know instinctively when I needed permission.


Permission to cry, or to rest.

Permission to play, to laugh.

Permission to be broken and imperfect.

Permission to voice my needs, and wants – no matter how big or small. No matter how serious or silly.

Permission to be who I am – just me being me.



He can’t give me that permission – and learning to give it to myself is a challenge.


Widow lesson #9856321245787532698415923458

Add comment


There are no comments yet.