Lauren Michels
Loss of Husband, Paul
Hi Lauren! Tell us, what’s your story?
I’m Lauren, an online health coach from southern California. I love to do yoga, eat, and spend time outside: biking, hiking and strolling the beach with my dog. When we aren’t under quarantine, I’m also an obsessed traveler - just hit my 7th continent last year! I think my only hidden talent is being ridiculously logical… oh and photography.
What was your life like leading up to your loss?
Paul and I were married only 11 months before his death. We were happy as clams living in Denver, CO, enjoying the sweet little life we had set up for ourselves in our new state. We both had great jobs and were progressing in our careers. I was growing a vegetable garden, milking goats and making cheese in my spare time and he was playing baseball as often as he could. We had an active social life and loved to have dinner parties and try new breweries with friends. We traveled often, both domestically and abroad. I couldn't have asked for a better partner or life.
Can you share about Paul’s death?
He had gone on a bachelor party trip to Mexico with a large group of guys. It was his first night there so I figured they’d be celebrating. That night I received a text from him telling me I was the love of his life- a true testament to the man and husband he was. Then I got a call at 3am from his mom saying something happened and didn’t know what but that I needed to get home. The next flight out wasn't until 9am the next morning so I just paced around my apartment trying to get ahold of anyone I could down there. I knew in my heart that he had already passed but no one would tell me. I found out the moment I landed in San Diego and crumbled in the middle of the airport while my mom tried to rush me out to where our entire family (his and mine) were waiting.
The following days were a blur- trying to find out what happened, talking to the FBI and the surviving members of their group to get us answers, taking a translator down to Mexico to speak with the DA - all to no avail. The Mexican hospital gave my mother in law clothes that weren't his and told her he had drowned, but he wasn’t near water at the time. His death is still not listed on the State Dept. website and when you look, you find that many people have died there from these “drownings.” One other guy from their group was killed, but the ambulance had managed to take him back over the US border before he passed, so we got a little more information through that autopsy. The only explanation we could find was tainted alcohol and I've accepted that reality, but there definitely hasn’t been any real closure on this catastrophe.
How were you able to move forward with so many unknowns surrounding the way Paul died? I feel like it would be all consuming/debilitating trying to find answers. Were you able to come to a place of acceptance?
There’s a quote from Buddha that says “Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.” And I felt that HARD. I needed to focus on what was best for me and my mental health, so I just chose to accept that I wasn’t going to get the answers I wanted. Not to mention the fact that I I’m simply not willing to sacrifice myself and my life in order to take on the Mexican Cartel or whoever was responsible. For me, I’d rather focus on what I CAN control and not on what I can’t. It’s certainly something that I still struggle with, but I just knew that I wasn’t going to be able to heal if I held on to that anger and blame. And it’s honestly the best thing I could have done for myself. The people who didn’t choose this path with me are REALLY struggling with this anger and it’s just adding to their grief.
How about in the immediate weeks after? How did you react or cope?
I had to fly home to California (where we were both from) before I even received the news so I just ended up staying for another month, allowing my family to take care of me. I’m pretty sure I just ugly cried for 100 days straight, ate very little, slept a lot and just stared into the abyss. I just wanted to be wherever he was - dead if I had to be. My heart literally hurt. But I was surrounded by loved ones: his family and mine, dear friends, old coworkers and teammates - the support and outpouring of love from everyone really helped me deal, knowing he had such a positive impact on people all over. I journaled a lot which really helped my sort through the mess of feelings.
Can you talk about a specific low point?
For probably a solid month or two, I just wanted to die. I wasn’t suicidal and wouldn’t have done anything to hurt myself, but truly would have been happy if some freak accident helped me get back to him. I didn’t want to live without him. On the outside I probably looked like the perfect widow because I could still go about my day to day business looking normal while the storm raged inside me.
How did you manage to find joy in those moments?
At first, I just flipped through photos for hours. I had made a slideshow of images for his memorial and watched it often. I trained for a half marathon with my sister. I traveled quite a bit, starting with Hawaii - the 30th bday trip we had planned to take together, but my sister joined me instead. It was such a healing trip and inspired me to book another to Peru the following month. I think travel, our sweet memories and good friends were the only things providing joy at the time.
How shifted since Paul’s death? Any unexpected changes?
Everything is new compared to my life then. I moved back to California. I left the wedding photography industry (turns out bride’s don’t love your tears on their day) and went back to school to become a nutritionist. I can fully attest that food and healing my body from the inside out were huge contributors to me surviving widowhood and I wanted to pass that knowledge around like hotcakes. I moved into an apartment solo - my first time ever living alone, which was my only regret that I didn’t experience prior to marriage (the irony). I’m now dating someone new, which is both rewarding and heart wrenching simultaneously.
I think the biggest difference though is how soft I’ve become through all of this. I think my grief has allowed me to understand pain, and people, on a completely different level. My empathy is now through the roof, whereas before I simply could not relate to anyone that operated based on emotions. I went from being a hard ass to not being able to be mean to anyone for fear of what they might be experiencing. I cry at everything - happy or sad. And I just try to be the incredible friend and human Paul was for everyone around him.
What do you want others - those who haven’t experienced it yet or are early in the process - to know about grief?
It’s brutal. Your brain is constantly in overdrive: processing new information and feelings, crying uncontrollably, worrying about how you can live without them… You think you’ll never be okay again, but you will. Happiness will return in tiny waves and then bigger ones. And somehow you will eventually experience joy in magnitudes greater than before.
My biggest recommendation is to sit in your grief. Face it everyday even when you don't want to, cry as often as possible, and journal your feelings. Numb and distract yourself for a little if you must, but know that it's only prolonging the healing process. Do what is actually best for you and your highest self, not just what your brain is requesting for fast relief because it’s a slippery slope.
How can a person best be there to support a loved one who is grieving?
Talk about them! Tell stories, ask questions, share photos… I think everyone’s biggest fear is that they’ll upset the person grieving by reopening a wound, but trust me, the wound is gaping and the stories keep their memories alive helping to create scars over that massive hole in their heart.
What would you tell others who are going through something similar?
There were two things (likely FB quotes) that brought me a lot of perspective in my early stages of grief:
The only way to get over it is to go THROUGH it.
Grief is like a wave, sometimes it will be raging and topple you over so much you don’t know up from down or if you’ll be able to come up for air and sometimes it will be a gentle nudge and pass over you without pause.
Also travel far and wide to gain some perspective on yourself and the world around you, to feel alive again and to know that you can always rely on yourself, your strength and your perseverance. And lean into the widow community. Finding women who understood what I was going through gave me so much comfort and probably helped me more than therapy ever has.
Any resources that were helpful for you that others might be able to utilize?
I read a couple of books and bought a widow’s journal, but I don't remember anything ground breaking in reading them. For me, Instagram (#youngwidow) helped me find and connect with other women my age who had been through the same thing which definitely gave me ideas and tips on how to move forward.
What brings you joy now?
Spreading his ashes in all the destinations he can’t travel to with me. Life’s little synchronicities and the times I can feel him with me, guiding me. Remembering funny stories and looking at old photos. Yoga, breath work and movement. Showing up for myself and doing what I can to be the best person I can be. Being in nature. Actually cherishing the time I have with loved ones. Being the kind of friend he was to so many people.
Anything else you’d like readers to know?
Do not feel guilty for one second that you are living this life without them. You didn’t choose this, but you can choose what becomes of it. And even when you think you can’t, you can.
Want to know more about Lauren and her story? Follow her on Instagram at @lasandwellness and @wellwidowproject.