Dating is even more complicated as a widow

February 12, 2020

This article was originally published on Scary Mommy. Read the original post here.

PC: Talia Kite Photography

I’m a widow. I lost my husband, the father of my two children, to cancer just over 10 months ago. And, while, I miss my late husband, I also crave a new love. I had been feeling guilty about this until my four-year-old daughter admitted that she wanted a “new daddy” too.

It went like this:

Izzy: “Mommy, can we get a new daddy? I miss the old daddy who got sick and died.”

Me: “I miss him too. But daddy will always be in our hearts. We still love him.”

Izzy: “But I want a new one who can talk to me.”

Me: “We can get you a new daddy, but, mommy has to find you one.”

Izzy: “Let’s go buy one!!”

Me (laughing): “Ok, Izzy. Mommy will work on it.”

Izzy misses her daddy. But, she also wants a new one. I miss my partner. But, I also want a new one. We will never forget or stop loving my late husband — Izzy’s father — but we both crave something tangible.

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner and I want someone to hold me — other than my two children. I want someone to console me — other than my parents and friends. I want someone to love me and to share my life with. But when you’re looking for a new parter while grieving the loss of your old one, it makes dating, well … complicated!

Based on my own experiences dating as a widow, I’d like to share some insights shed some light on the complexities of dating after loss and eradicate any judgement — because we are all just trying our best to move forward with life. And, no one should be denied of love. A partner. Or, a new daddy.

So here it goes:

PC: Talia Kite Photography

Tip #1: Trust that she knows when “she’s ready” to date

I’ve heard a range of opinions regarding the appropriate timeline to date after a partner dies — “five years”, “one year”, “never”, “once I’m done grieving and moved on.” The answers vary and the reasons entertain. So, I decided that I would be my own judge. Let’s face it, do we ever know when we are “ready” to do anything? And, the grieving never truly ends.

About six months after I lost my husband, I downloaded a dating app. I had been spiraling downward into this depth of loneliness. I needed a distraction — even if it wouldn’t necessarily lead to anything. And it worked! I contently swiped away, messaging prospects and getting excited over potential dates — maybe even a future together! I went on a handful of dates, but what I discovered is that even though I was ready to date, my potential partners were not. My loss made them uncomfortable. Keep reading …

Tip #2: Don’t be afraid to talk about the death

I indicated that I had kids on my dating profile. So during the first date, the topic of their father always came up. When I shared that my children’s father had died and no, we were not divorced, I would get two standard reactions —

1.) Overly dwell on the death, how fragile I probably am, and speculate on my “readiness” to date (DUH, I’m here aren’t I?). Or…

2.) Completely dismiss the fact.

It would go like this…

Me: “My husband actually passed away from cancer about six months ago”

My date: “Oh wow. I’m sorry. So…what else do you like to do?”

Me: Smile awkwardly … pass!

Newsflash! Someone dying is a huge, traumatic, life altering event. If a widow brings this up, TALK TO HER about it. Or, at least a little bit. But DO NOT. I repeat, DO NOT just blaze over it and move on to her interests and hobbies, or what country she wants to travel to next.

Tip #3: Don’t underestimate her ability to love

After about one month on the app, I found someone who I actually liked. Someone who gave me those butterflies in my stomach again and who I could envision a future with. And his feelings seemed to match mine!

But, about three months into our relationship, the phone calls started to drop, we saw each other less frequently, and everything fizzled to an abrupt end. He dumped me.

What happened? I learned that Joe (his name for now) felt like a “placeholder.” Joe knew that I still loved my late husband. We didn’t “end it” by choice. Joe was aware of the void in my heart. And, he thought I was filling it with him. Joe believed that my feelings for him were temporary — just there to alleviate the pain from my loss.

While Joe was wrong, his concerns were valid. When the person you’re dating still loves her dead partner, questions and insecurities will naturally arise. So let’s break this down:

I loved my dead husband and had feelings for Joe at the same time.

My heart has room for both — old love and new.

Neither love diminishes, competes, or replaces the other love.

They are separate, yet they co-exist.

They co-exist in the sense that when we love someone, that love shapes us. A part of us is forever changed. We carry a piece of that person with us — whether the relationship ended by choice or not. We can hold love for one person, and be in love with somebody entirely new.

They are separate in the sense that the sole act of being is now. Being requires breathe, life and exists in the present. Being in love is feeling it in the flesh, having it reciprocated, and tangibly experiencing the magic of our world when we share it with someone else.

LONELINESS

February 7, 2020

About six months after my husband Ian died, the loneliness of my world without him really started to sink in. I would begin and end the day alone — waking up and going to sleep in a king size bed that felt so empty and vast without him. His sink in the bathroom vanity was crystal clean, untouched. His clothes (the majority packed up or given away) but, his special keepsakes — his favorite Aloha shirts, Broncos jerseys and wedding suit — just hung in our closet collecting dust.

Ian and I loved cuddling together on our couch to watch movies and shows at night once the kids went to sleep. But after he died, I couldn’t bring myself to sit on it without him there. I didn’t have someone to snuggle with, to laugh with or to figure out the plot twists with. The empty couch was just a reminder my loneliness — like so many things I encountered throughout the day.

Sometimes when I drove in my car I literally reached over to the passenger seat to rest my hand on his. But it wasn’t there. I wanted to call him to ask for his advice, but no voice would answer. I wanted to wrap my arms around him to share my contentment for life and feel a warm body against mine, but all I felt was air. A profound hollowness. Almost one year later, I still feel like this at times.

Loneliness is a feeling often experienced in the grieving process. When someone who we interact with — whether its for infrequent holiday get-togethers, weekly phone calls, or seeing them daily — just disappears from your life, there is nothing but emptiness left in the space they once filled. All of the activities and milestones you shared with that person are just reminders of that person’s absence. Even certain clothing, special songs or favorite restaurants can be reminders that your special person is missing. And this emptiness leaves us feeling so alone.

During a playdate, I expressed some of the struggles I had been experiencing as a newly single-mom. Another single-mom (by divorce) chimed in and said that she totally “got it” and continued to share in my misery. While a lot of our challenges were in fact similar, her divorce was not the same as my husband’s death. “How could she not get this? And, how could she make such a comparison?” I thought to myself. Although she was just trying to level with me and help, it actually had the opposite effect.

This sense of aloneness is not only caused by someone special in our lives dying, but also from the feelings of isolation that arise when we think that no one else understands our situation. People often say “Oh I can’t even imagine what you are going through.” And, it’s true! They probably can’t. Nor, do many people know how to talk about death. Unless you’ve experienced a loss, it’s difficult to fully empathize with someone grieving. When no one seems to understand, it can feel like we don’t belong and that we are truly in this struggle alone.

At the peak of my loneliness, I decided to download a dating app. I needed a distraction — even if it wouldn’t necessarily lead to anything. And it worked! I contently swiped away, messaging prospects and getting excited over potential dates — maybe even a future together! But, after a few months of casual dates that were really just plain bad, and then a three-month-long relationship that came to an abrupt end over a text message (future blog post coming. Stay tuned.), I realized that the only person who could fix my loneliness — was me.

I read this post from Mark Groves (aka @createthelove) and everything clicked. I was looking for all of the answers to my loneliness outside of myself. But, what I needed was to focus the attention within. I needed to identify the thoughts that drove these feelings of disconnectedness — the fear that I would never find love or feel whole again; the illusion that we only get one true love; the discomfort of physically taking up space — alone. These were all thoughts that I was telling myself, which in turn, fed by loneliness!

As I started to identify what thoughts triggered my loneliness, I was able to change my perception of them. I asked myself how I could enjoy being alone? How could I use my alone time to learn something new about me, about my passions, or the world around me? When I felt physically alone, I turned to my fitness communities — moving together on a spin bike or at my barre studio — which reminded me that even though I was alone without my partner, I had an entire community who loved and supported me.

Our loneliness is often what we make of it. Sometimes its hard to separate the stories that we tell ourselves from reality, and when we don’t, they become our reality! Sometimes we just need some space to feel our feelings to recognize what’s really going on inside our minds.