Saying Yes to Margate
The First Yes
He'd only been gone a month.
I felt lost.
Scared.
Yet somehow...
the word that came out was,
"Yes."
When Gail, a friend I'd met through my pole exercise class, invited me away to Margate for a few days, every part of me wanted to say no.
I hadn't known her for very long.
The people we'd be staying with were complete strangers.
There would be another woman.
Another man.
I knew none of them.
The fear was immediate.
It was as though my whole body froze.
How could I possibly go away when Luke had only just died?
How could I laugh?
How could I spend time with people who'd never even met him?
More than anything...
how could I leave him behind?
Looking back now, I realise I wasn't frightened of Margate.
I was frightened of living.
At that point, I wasn't really living at all.
I was functioning.
I got up.
I went out.
I did the things I had to do.
But inside...
I felt completely numb.
Every day I cried.
Every day I missed him.
I wasn't living.
I was simply existing.
The morning we left, every step towards Gail's car felt like I was walking through treacle.
If I'd been driving myself, I'm almost certain I would have turned around and gone home.
Instead, I sat quietly in the passenger seat, carrying a knot in my stomach for the entire journey.
When we arrived, I went straight to my room.
I rang my son."I don't want to be here," I told him.
He paused for a moment before quietly saying,"It's only a few days, Mum. Just stay."
There wasn't one magical moment that changed everything.
It happened quietly.
The people there were kind.
They didn't avoid talking about Luke.
They asked about him.
They listened.
They let me cry.
I remember sitting outside a pub in the sunshine while I talked about him.
As I looked around the table, I could see the emotion in their faces.
For the first time since he'd died...
I didn't feel like I had to protect everyone else from my grief.
I simply felt accepted.
Somewhere along the way, I laughed.
Not a huge, uncontrollable laugh.
Just little moments.
The strange thing was...
it wasn't guilt that followed.
Saying Yes to Margate
It was the ache of laughing without him.
There's a difference.
One comes from feeling you've done something wrong.
The other comes from wishing the person you love was there to laugh with you.
When I came home, I wasn't suddenly happy.
Nothing dramatic had changed.
But something had shifted.
I realised I could say yes.
Not because it was easy.
Not because I was ready.
But because I'd done it once.
A few weeks later, I said yes again.
Then again.
Each yes made the next one just a little easier.
Looking back now, I honestly don't know where I'd be if I'd said no to that weekend.
Maybe I'd still have found my way eventually.
Maybe not.
What I do know is that weekend became the first step back towards living.
Not because Margate changed my life.
But because it reminded me that life was still there.
That's often how rebuilding begins.
Not with one huge, life-changing decision.
But with one small, uncomfortable yes.
One that you almost don't say.
One that scares you.
One that feels impossible.
Until you realise...
it was the first page of your next chapter.