I ran into my head teacher from my primary school recently. I loved my head teacher. I had such great memories, both fun and slightly scary. From the way he used to strum his guitar before we sang a hymn that was projected onto the wall, to being sat in an assembly and suddenly seeing him click his fingers which meant instant silence. He didn’t miss a trick and was-in my eyes- highly respected.

Anyway, back on track.

He had just dropped his grandchild at school, as I had with the boys. The pleasantries were exchanged, y’know, as you do. Hi. How are you? How is the family? How long are you here for?

Within an instant, I was at a crossroads. Say the absolute truth…?

Well, we are back because my husband was killed and we needed to be with family 

Or my standard, rehearsed response…

Yes, we are we very well, thankyou. Not sure yet. Just taking it a day at a time. It’s just lovely to be with family again. 

I chose the latter. I mean, who am I to ruin this poor man’s morning. He’s merely there to take his granddaughter to school, making small talk with the other parents stood in the school playground and BAM… He tries to comprehend the words that have just come from your mouth and suddenly uncomfortable regarding what to say next. Whether to ask more about it. Part of me wanted to tell him at that moment. I realised that this was all to do with the security I found by people knowing my story. Not particularly for the attention- as I’m sure some people think it is- just giving them the knowledge about the episode…tragic event…life changing day…whatever you want to call it.

Thing is, it’s part of my normality. It’s something that doesn’t necessarily phase me anymore. I have no issue with saying my husband was murdered. But, this is shocking for others. Something that doesn’t happen every day. It only happens in movies, or on TV. Not to the person that you know or the person that you’re talking to. There is a strange part of me that wants that shock factor though, too. Their faces turn instantly from a worried smile (is she being serious or kidding right now) to that expression, a deer in headlights. Basically WTF say to this person now!? face.

That isn’t fair though. Not fair at all. So, because I wanted that apparent anonymity, I chose to keep quiet on this occasion. Maybe another time I would tell him. If he asked a little more detail or I felt it was really the right time.

I admit, I am really struggling with this anonymity thing. It was something I thought I really wanted. Really needed. It’s one of the main reasons I came here. To become myself again and not have a tag attached to my name. Turns out, I want it all. Both the anonymity and security of being acknowledged.

In a strange, maybe almost gross way, I feel like it is my little party trick. Most of the time this little nugget born out of horrific circumstance can trigger a really good conversation that veers into positives rather than negatives. It feels a little morbid and almost fame hungry to say, but you really do get used to the attention you get. The kids at one point asked why they weren’t at an awards ceremony on the TV- I think it was the Grammy’s. Asking them why they thought they should be there, Gabe said, quite matter of factly

We’re famous. We should be there.

I can feel some of you judging me as you read more. Getting angry maybe. Until you have been in that situation though, you will never truly understand it. They say that you can’t help who you fall in love with. Well I can’t help the way I feel. You can try and change these feelings, but it is only when you are truthful with yourself. So that’s all I can be.

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