I’ve been wrestling with what I call “happiness guilt” for months.

Last year, I was spending some quality time with one of my friends, and she asked me very sincerely, “Do you ever feel guilty about being happy?” This question might not make sense to people who haven’t experienced losing someone in a tragic, untimely way. But I found it so liberating to be able to talk about this with someone. She lost a niece a few years ago in a tragic accident, so her brother and his family have wrestled with the same exact feelings.

And yeah, to answer her question, I do feel guilty about being happy sometimes. The guilt has faded as time has passed, but it still occasionally sneaks up on me. I have thoughts like, “How dare I be going out dancing, laughing, and smiling when my husband is dead? I should be laying at home crying.” But after doing nothing but laying at home and crying for a few months, I can honestly say that gets old after awhile. I needed to let myself wallow early on, but I certainly can’t do that for the rest of my life.

One of the cliches you often hear when someone has died is “They would want you to be happy.” And as cliche as it is, I know in my heart it is true. My happiness and wellbeing was always one of Stephen’s top priorities in life. So I started filling my life with activities that make me smile, and I keep an eye out for little moments of joy. Sometimes it’s as simple as having a snuggle with my cat. And sometimes it’s as epic and lavish as going on a 10 day snorkeling expedition in Indonesia.

I’ve done a lot of reflecting on happiness over the last year. Before Stephen died, I was happy when it felt like everything was just right. But now I’ve had to find a new definition of happiness. Can you still be happy when life is messy and not what you want it to be?

I started reading a new daily devotional recently called The Pivot Year by Brianna Weist. One of her reflections on happiness says it much more eloquently than I could:

Happiness is not having the best of everything, but the ability to make the best of anything. Happiness is knowing you are doing what you can with what you were given. Happiness is not something that comes to you when every problem is solved and all things are perfectly in place, but in the shining silver linings that remind us the light of day is always there, if you slow down enough to notice.

This is what I’m learning to do, slowly but surely. And when I start to feel that guilt slipping in, I try to picture Stephen beside me, smiling, and saying “Yes Erin, follow your bliss. Find joy. You deserve it.”