The Question I Wish People Would Stop Asking

What is one question you hate to be asked? Explain.

The receptionist smiled politely and asked a question most people answer without thinking.

“Miss or Mrs?”

My mouth opened… but nothing came out.

Because the truth is, there isn’t always a box for a woman who loved deeply, lost suddenly, and is still learning how to live again.

“What should we put… Miss or Mrs?”

It sounds like such a small question.

A harmless one, really.

A tick-box on a form.

A polite enquiry at reception.

A quick check before someone writes your name down.

But sometimes the smallest questions carry the heaviest weight.

Because for some of us, that question opens a door to a story we didn’t choose.

A story that still catches in our throat.

A story that begins with love… and ends with loss.

I remember the first time someone asked me after my husband died.

“Miss or Mrs?”

My mind froze for a second.

I was still very much a wife in my heart. I had built a life with him. Shared dreams, laughter, children, a home. I had carried his name proudly.

But the world had already moved on to a different category for me.

Widow.

And strangely enough, there isn’t always a neat box for that.

So you pause.

You hesitate.

You wonder what answer will make the moment easiest for everyone.

Sometimes I say Mrs.

Sometimes I simply say my name and skip the title altogether.

Because the truth is… I am still his wife in the story of my life. His love did not disappear just because his physical presence did.

But that’s not the only question that can sting.

There’s another one that finds me sometimes when I’m travelling with my three children.

We are at the airport, or boarding a train, or checking into a hotel. My children are lively, full of personality, each carrying pieces of the man who helped bring them into the world.

And someone will ask, casually, without knowing:

“Where’s their dad?”

Again, a simple question.

Again, one that can stop a heart for a moment.

Because how do you answer that in the middle of a busy airport queue?

Do you say, “He passed away”?

Do you explain that the children they see laughing and running around lost their father far too soon?

Or do you smile politely and move the moment along?

What people don’t always realise is that grief doesn’t disappear. It simply learns how to walk beside you while you continue living.

And that’s exactly what I am doing.

Living.

Raising three beautiful children.

Laughing again.

Learning to breathe in a world that once felt impossible to navigate without him.

The truth is, I don’t hate those questions because people are cruel.

Most of the time they are simply unaware.

But the questions do remind me of something powerful.

Life changes in ways we never imagine.

Titles change. Circumstances change. The picture you once painted for your future can be suddenly rewritten.

Yet somehow… the human heart keeps beating.

It keeps loving.

It keeps finding ways to stand up again.

That is the story I am beginning to tell more openly now.

Not just in blog posts like this one, but in the book I am currently writing.

A book inspired by that very question:

Are You Miss or Mrs?

It explores what happens when life removes the label you once wore with pride and asks you to redefine yourself all over again.

Because behind that simple question is something much deeper.

Who are you now?

Who are you becoming?

And how do you learn to live again after loss?

I don’t always have the perfect answers.

But I am learning something important along the way.

Whether the world calls me Miss, Mrs, or something in between…

My story is still unfolding.

And I am still here, writing the next chapter.

For me, one of the ways I began finding my footing again was through something very simple: walking.

Not running from the grief, not pretending it didn’t exist. Just walking through it, one step at a time.

Those walks became conversations with God, moments of reflection, and slowly, they became a path back to life.

That journey is what inspired me to write Walking Away the Grief.

It’s not about leaving love behind. It’s about learning how to move forward while still carrying the people we love with us.

If you or someone you know is learning to live again after loss, I hope the words in that book feel like a companion for the road ahead.

Because healing doesn’t happen all at once.

Sometimes it begins with something as small as taking the next step.

Love,

Doris King