To The Woman Who Lost It All

You were just a stranger in the street and I’d stopped to take notice. You wore this black puffer jacket with blue jeans that were a little frayed and trainers that had seen better days. In one hand you clutched a small can of energy drink, the other fist was deep within a pocket, out of sight. You were hanging your head when you’d walked out of the shop and I could feel the waves of sorrow wash over me as you walked by. So I had to say something. Anything. I knew what that pit of despair was like and I disliked the thought of anyone else suffering the same.

So I’d said hello. You looked a little startled, almost as though you thought you’d been invisible, gliding silently by like a ghost. Now, I never stopped to speak to people, mainly because I was always in my own world, but looking at you, I’d noticed the world you were slipping into was dark. Did I feel like I had to pull you out of it? I don’t know.

So you started to talk to me. And I listened. You told me of a nurse who was happy with her partner and children, living with the mother-in-law, surrounded by laughter and happiness. You told me how she lost her partner, how he had died only a mere six months ago. You talked about how this woman was thrown out of the mother-in-law’s house, treated like trash and she had to ask her own mother if her two children could live with her until she had her own place. She was in despair. So much lost in such a short time. Her family, torn apart by a death.

Drinking came next, as did illness and then losing her job as a nurse. She was staying in a women’s shelter, given a small weekly sum with which she had to feed and clothe herself, while looking for employment and trying to straighten herself out again, all alongside grieving for her lost love and her children.

I never paid attention to anyone else’s story as much as I did yours. Perhaps because it was parallel to a similar situation I had grown up in and finally saw the story that I had seen in a different light before through someone else’s eyes. You thanked me for listening to your story because you had never had the opportunity to talk to anyone about this. I admire your courage, for opening your heart to a stranger and showing me those wounds that so grievously injured your soul. You told me how you’re in a better place and focusing on getting yourself back to being a nurse and doing what you love best, being around your children.

I noticed you had started to stand a little straighter and walk a little more sure-footed, as though you could see the new road you were paving for yourself. To walk in your shoes, for even just a day, would only ever increase my respect for you. To everybody else you look just like another lost soul wandering the streets, to me, you’re a beacon of hope, moving forwards to a new future and going it alone. A venture undertaken alone is going to be a challenge and I understand there will be many more hurdles to jump before you get to where you want to be. But I can appreciate the visible effort you are making to overcome your trials and move towards triumph.

I dedicate this letter to you, because you have shown me that no matter how hopeless a situation may seem, it is your motivation and determination to live again that is pulling you through, even though at times it does get the best of you. You still move forward and refuse to step back. To The Woman Who Lost It All, trust me, you’ll win.