The issue of dating after being widowed is highly controversial, it seems. Friends, family, acquaintances, even the general public, seem to think they have a valuable opinion on when is an appropriate time for a widow/widower to open his or her heart to possibilities after losing a spouse. I have talked to many other widows who have faced judgment and criticism after making the decision to date again and it always boggles my mind that anyone other than the widow herself thinks they know when the “right time” may be for her. Because, honestly, unless you have lost your spouse and find yourself suddenly and completely alone and overwhelmed by the isolation and loneliness that accompanies that loss, you have absolutely zero right to even have an opinion.
So sharing my heart on this subject is probably one of the harder things I’ve opened up about since being widowed. But I don’t write about things because they make me comfortable. The reason I write is to be open and honest and transparent and real and raw. The reason I write is so that others going through what I have gone through feel less alone, less afraid and more normal, more seen, more known. The reason I write is to speak truth and life and if that incurs judgment from small minded and overly opinionated people, so be it. I’ve survived worse.
That being said, the decision to date after loss is not an easy one. Some widows choose never to date again, to remain single and find happiness in their singleness. Some widows don’t even think about it for many, many years. Some widows choose to date right away. Some choose to put a toe in the water, then run back to shore. There’s really no right answer for when is the right time to date after losing a spouse except for: when you feel ready.
For me, a couple of months ago I found myself thinking about dating and it surprised me that I didn’t feel weird or sad or guilty about the idea. In fact, it felt nice to think about meeting new people and feeling appreciated as a woman. The idea of having adult conversations over a glass of wine or a nice dinner was appealing. You have to understand that losing your entire life (because I not only lost my husband, but my home and my friends and my community and everything that made sense in my world) and having to rebuild it from scratch is one of the single most isolating experiences a person can have. To suddenly find yourself spending all day at home with two little kids and then every night alone with no one to share your thoughts with, to sometimes go several days at a time without having a face-to-face adult interaction, can be maddening. So the possibility of sitting across a table from a man with a nice smile and an easy laugh and chatting about something other than Daniel Tiger or Fancy Nancy started to sound really great.
On the other hand, the thought of dating is also pretty appalling to me because I’ve always hated it. I never really dated, honestly, I was more of a serial monogamist. Dating for me was always just weird and awkward: I don’t do small talk, I don’t play games and I wear my heart on my sleeve. If I like you, you’ll know it; if I don’t, you’ll know it (sorry). It takes me a while to truly let someone in. My poor husband worked his tail off for a good four months for me to agree to meet him in person! So, jumping back into dating at this stage in my life is also a scary and exhausting thought. If I could just have the perfect man magically show up at my door one day, I would choose that option in a heartbeat (side note: if anyone knows the perfect man, please contact me and I will send you my address).
Unfortunately, more likely than not, that’s not going to happen, so I am choosing to put myself back out there into the world and see what happens. Right now I am not looking for love; I am happy to just meet new people and have good conversation. But if love finds me again, I will gladly welcome it. Dating at this stage in my life, though, is going to be far more complicated than it was when I was young and free (ahem: no kids). I am older and wiser, I have more obligations, I have more baggage.
I anticipate that dating is going to be difficult as a widow because I have an added layer of complication that is not the same for someone who is divorced or has never been married. I suspect it will take a special kind of man to even want to date me, and be strong enough to embrace my story. I admit that I fear that those men aren’t really out there, but I’ll never know if I don’t try to find one. But I have to lay some ground rules if I’m going to do this thing, as I think every widow (and woman, for that matter) should. Each widow will have her own set of guidelines, I think, unique to her situation, but these are mine:
A User’s Guide to Dating This Widow
Yes, I am a widow. No, you can’t catch it. Yes, I will talk about my late husband from time to time. If that upsets you, move on.
I do not need to be rescued. I am not here to rescue you. I am looking for a partner, not a project.
My kids are my priority. Unless and until you become my husband, that fact will not change.
I will always love my late husband. That does not preclude me from loving again. You will need to be secure enough to accept that and embrace that part of who I am. You will need to be strong enough to let me grieve, or better yet, hold me while I grieve.
I deserve to be pursued. I expect you to make an effort to show me you’re interested. Your efforts will not go unmatched, but I don’t have time or inclination to chase after you.
Don’t be offended if I want to take things slow. My heart has been broken and it may take a minute for me to share it again.
But don’t lead me on. If you’re not into me, let me go. I don’t have time or energy to invest in a man who isn’t on board. I know my worth, and so should you.
Communicate. Use your words. Open up to me and I will return the gesture. A solid relationship is built on a foundation of friendship and friendship is built on communication and trust.
Please, for the love of God, make me laugh! Don’t be afraid to be real, even if that means being a goofball.
That’s not so much to ask, right? Never in a million years did I think that I would ever have to navigate the dating world again. All my future plans included seducing the same man for the rest of my life and ending up old, cranky people who yelled at kids to get out of our yard while we rocked the day away on our rickety porch. I was A-OK with that future. But here I am, facing a very different reality. All I can do is play the cards I’ve been dealt.
Maybe one day I will be sitting on the porch with my husband yelling at all the hooligans that walk by. I just have to allow that it will not be the same man I had thought I’d be sitting with. It’s not the future I imagined, but it’s still ok. It’s still good. I still believe that love is in my future, but I’m not going to find it sitting on the sidelines. So I’m getting in the game…wish me luck.
As a widow of 19 months, I took the plunge to date and I’ve found a man who makes me laugh everyday. Who will let me cry if I need to. Who loves my dogs and just likes being with me. It was weird after being married 47 years to date again. I’m lucky because I didn’t have to date a lot of different men before I met him. I decided to invest my time and energy in this relationship. And test the other day he asked me to marry him. Now if only my grown daughters would be happy for me Life is short. I know they worry that he will take advantage of me. That I don’t know what I’m doing. That I’m vulnerable. But the truth is, I love this man and this so “sweet time” and I don’t want to waste it. He’s 70 and I’m 68. So I say, please people, stop judging and instead encourage.
I am so happy for you. I am 65 and have been a widow twice in 6 years. Life goes on. I cannot wait to meet that nice special someone. It has been a long bumpy road.
I don’t really think it’s a judgment, an opinion. I just think it’s hard because of the children. I divorced, and although I wasn’t a widow, there is still a sense of loss, a loss of a lot of things. I didn’t engage in dating at the time because my daughters were 10 and 13 and I didn’t want to introduce “other men” into their lives, especially at that age. And, truth be told, somebody is going to take a back seat when you begin dating, either the kids or the boyfriend. It’s just very complicated I believe. When you kids are grown, I think it would be much easier. I would just have felt a lot of guilt because I couldn’t give 100% to either relationship with my children or boyfriend.
You are so brave. I can not imagine being back in the dating world again. A fact I tell my husband that I am so thankful for on random occasions when I see weird tinder texts people share on social, or things my siblings deal with.
All that to say – thanks for being raw and real. Because for anyone that is going through, or will have to go through, what you are going through – you’re being a beacon of light for them. A voice that people need.
I am not the perfect man, but I’m as close as you’ll find on earth. I already have your address and no a lot about you. Including the fact that your Dad will pounce upon me and break all of my breakable parts! LOL. This is a great series, Cheyenne, to bad you had to be the one to write it. Having never a widower, however, I tend to disagree that I don’t know what you go through. I watched my Mother bury two husbands and I’ve dated two widows as well as having a widow and her toddler as a roommate for almost 2 years. (She subsequently remarried, sent her 4 kids to college, got divorced, went back to college, found (and buried) another man, and operates her own Mental Therapy practice. She’s not smarter, wiser, or better educated than you. She’s tough, like you.
I’ve been a widow a little over 2 years… but for the 2 years before that I cared for my husband as he battled lung and brain cancer. I started putting my toe in the water about a year ago.. dated several different men very briefly.. it was hard, and ugly and it made me miss the ease that 28 years of marriage puts on a conversation. A few weeks ago, I met a widower who is on the same timeline I am on.. we talk about our spouses and we cry together… its a strange trip, but we see each other on a whole different level. Not sure where its going, but walking hand in hand with someone who makes me laugh again is a beautiful thing.
I’ve been a widow for 3 months after being his caregiver for 3 years. He had MSA – very similar to ALS. It was a nightmare and there was no joy, no hope, nothing good. I mourned him a year before his actual date of death. I have a wonderful counselor that knows the whole story and how caregiving almost took me out. With her encouragement, I am open to having coffee with someone that wants to take me out. Your list is spot on. I know I will be judged, so I am keeping it to myself for now. I am so ready for laughter, joy, and for someone to look at me with affection. I totally get the “transition guy” and not making it a full-blown relationship. Now I just need to find the part of me that doesn’t care about what other people say behind my back…..
I am so sorry for your loss and all the losses that came before he passed. You deserve happiness. You deserve love. You deserve joy. Don’t let the opinions of the ignorant stop you from reclaiming your life. I am proud of you for opening yourself to possibility again! Much love to you.