The isolation of being a widow I think comes with the territory, but can get really toxic. I, too, have a tendency to isolate because I automatically assume that people don’t want to be bothered by my stuff.

Like you, as a widow getting out and joining groups is so crucial. I am not a real quilter, but going to quilt classes was a lovely way for me just to be with people. I love to exercise but after Rob’s death I literally did not have the physical stamina to do it.

We know that social support has an incredible impact on our physical health, far more than we have known before. Recent Gallop polls suggest that social support trumps all sorts of other “bad health habits” in predicting length of life.
So many widows feel stigmatized initially and wonder how to fit into the circles that formerly belonged too. I am sure it’s the same with divorce or other life changes as well.

Again, reaching out to the newly widowed is a way to create that new social support that is so often needed. Much the way we are reaching out to people we went to school with 40 years ago. Although we may not have been in the same friendship circles then, we certainly are developing them now.

My late husband was astute in urging me to get involved with groups before his death to make friends and have a network to rely upon once he did pass to his terminal illness. I joined a knitting group at the local senior center, and the year following his death I joined a quilting guild. My girlfriends are so important to me now and I cherish them.

I want to be more outgoing. I’ve always been spontaneous, always ready for a road trip which are most usually taken alone as I want to be free to take side trips, stop for a tour of a historic site, etc. I visit people along the way which is my way of also connecting with others.

Beth, I don’t know if you made the class reunion last year of Warren High Class of ’69, but we have reconnected even though we didn’t know hang with each other in school. I love that so many of us have kept in touch after the 40th reunion and hope to continue these friendships.

I think that the research is suggesting that it’s not so much introversion or extoversion that is the “happiness key”, but instead an element of engagement with others that is important. I can be introverted (ie gathering energy from being by myself), while at the same time be very engaged with friends and family. The critical key here, I believe, is that people are happiest when they have significant relationships with people. I imagine when the shy or retiring person was encouraged to engage with others by either smiling or striking up a conversation with someone, rather than walking with head down and not establishing eye contact, they reported greater happiness.
It seems to me that once again the notion of ISOLATION is the issue, and as you suggest, it’s the motivation BEHIND the isolation that is critical here. Is the alone time rejuvenating, as it is for introverts, or is the alone time a way to avoid interacting?
Long story short, I agree, I don’t think the research really suggests that extroversion = happiness, that is a huge stretch. i think the research suggests that engagement with others in a meaningful and purposeful way contributes to happiness and well-being.

I wonder if the motivation to be alone (or not) is what is important here. To wall off from people and experiences out of fear is out of balance. On the other hand, who hasn’t run into people who surround themselves with others out of fear of the silence and dealing with what’s going on within? So, saying that extroversion brings happiness seems like a stretch to me.

Now a question for you, Miz Beth. If there are no happy hermits (a concept I agree with), does that mean that we don’t need or benefit from time alone, to recharge our batteries, to think about our options, to take care of physical needs (like working out), or, yes, to nurse our wounds? Isn’t being a hermit a habitual, continuing action? So if we don’t STAY like hermits, can’t we have a balance?

I don’t mean to quibble, but it seems to me that you’re warning against being habitually alone, rather than seeking occasional “alone time.”