When a widow starts dating again (and everyone has an opinion)
Reflections on dating after death
When I first started dating, it was in secret.
I worried I would be judged for both moving on too fast (“How is she over Brad already?”) and also not moving on fast enough (“You’re young, shouldn’t you find someone else already?”).
It’s like there’s this unspoken, waffling timetable where it’s ok to dip your toe in (but not too far and only one toe and whatever you do, don’t make a splash…). If you miss that window, prepare to be judged. (Spoiler: everyone seems to miss that elusive window.)
When it comes to dating after loss, everyone seems to have an opinion.
The topic of dating comes up a lot within my small grief communities, hidden in the safety of DMs and private zoom calls. Judgment-free conversations between widows wondering what’s normal and when is it ok and how do you actually do this thing called love?
And above all: Will I be judged?
This fear stems from critical musings from those who (fortunately for them) don’t get it, and therefore feel the need to condemn the choices we, as widows, make.
When widows go public, people get mean.
I witnessed this earlier this year when widow Kelsey Parker announced she was engaged and pregnant. Along with the announcement came an influx of negative comments and opinions.
Comments like:
“She wasn’t missing her husband for too long 🙄”
“I can't imagine ever standing smiling away with someone else like this. I don't even want to imagine life when he's not here — this just shocks me. Guess to each their own! But my vows are for life!”
“How very sad for Tom’s memory.”
Reading these comments reminded me of another example from a few years back when comedian Patton Oswalt received similar criticism when announcing his engagement after the death of his wife. At the time, I was newly widowed and not yet dating, but reading the comments had me wondering (and fearing) how I, too, would be judged when I began to date again.
Here’s what I know now.
Deciding to date as a widow — to put yourself back out there after a profound loss — can feel impossibly difficult. It comes with feelings of guilt, shame, betrayal, confusion, lust, desire, excitement, and joy (just to name a few).
Dating, sex, relationships — they all require superhuman levels of effort, courage, and blind faith.
It’s scary. It’s brave. It’s tender.
If someone has lost their person and is willing to explore love again, it’s a big fucking deal.
You are judged for moving on too quickly or for waiting too long. Each new milestone isn’t between just the two of you, but the three of you. You have expectations of life with one person that can’t be recreated with another. You’re holding past anniversaries and making space for future ones. It’s an injustice that feels unfair to both your late spouse and your current partner.
Sometimes it feels like you have one foot in the past and one foot in the future, with your feet slipping in opposite directions, and you’re just trying to stay upright.⠀
It’s hard.
So if a widow in your life tells you she’s thinking about dating again, don’t judge. Instead, simply say this:
“I am so proud of you.”
If you can’t say that with love? Then don’t say anything.
And consider yourself lucky you don’t understand.
Let’s talk about it.
If you’ve ever dated after loss — or thought about it — what helped you feel ready?
What surprised you? What did you wish people understood?
Share your story in the comments (or send a reply if it feels too tender for public view). Let’s make this a space where widows don’t have to whisper.
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If you found this helpful, here is another post that may resonate:
We’ve just passed 5 years and I still haven’t started dating seriously, however I did go out looking for hookups fairly quickly. (Which I learned is actually pretty common, despite the shame of talking about it. The wid-hoe era.) I always slept with people I didn’t like- because that felt safe to me. ‘I can sleep with this man because I would NEVER date him.’ My husband still has my heart, even if someone else had my body. I’m just now considering the possibility, though I won’t go searching on an app, I think maybe my heart could open in the right circumstance. But when I think too hard about it, all the things you mentioned, the dates/anniversaries, the one foot in each direction, it feels overwhelming, it feels impossible and I clam up again. I do also think it might be different if I weren’t a mother. Part of me feels like I won’t be fully ready until they are adults. Until my dating life won’t affect them so closely. As you can probably tell, I really have no answers! It’s such a personal experience that no one should feel entitled to comment on, even if you’ve lived it, our experiences as widows are like snowflakes. The same, and also wildly different.
As someone who lost my dad at 14, witnessed and benefited from watching my mom rebuild a beautiful life for my family with the loving encouragement of my dad’s family, I was unprepared for the judgement, mean comments and resentment towards both me and my husband (who is a widower) when we finally “came out” in the world as a couple. The love we share is new and different from our past and deserving of the same respect our previous relationships were shown, this is something we prioritize and align on daily. We are both young with a life ahead of us. I will never understand how or why there isn’t more of a curiosity or understanding (we have 6 kids in our family now) and I also respect that grief and also getting stuck in grief comes out in many forms. For us, strong boundaries with consistency, solid communication and teamwork are the things that gets us through…focusing on the love we share, the lessons we’ve learned, and the history that brought us together. There is much to be celebrated and much to be honored…life is a beautiful journey of continual learning. Taking the high road is a necessity and yet challenging all at once.