Learning to Love Again

With a warm blush on my cheeks, I caught myself feeling giddy, slowly swinging my legs beneath the table. My cute black shoes slipped off my feet. My cheeks felt flushed and were tired from smiling – a sensation I wasn’t accustomed to anymore. I couldn’t help but smile because I was having such a wonderful time! We sat next to one another, not across, while dining at an upscale steakhouse. Gently, he fed me from his fork, something no man had ever done for me before.

During our walk after dinner, he sweetly reached for my hand - something I hadn’t experienced in far too many years. A kaleidoscope of butterflies burst inside me as he drew me close and kissed me that evening. He completely took my breath away. It was sweet and soulful and organic, more beautiful than I could have ever hoped for. Thirteen years into my widowhood, love had found its way back into my life.

Some time later, while sitting atop the grave of my late husband, Bob, I shared what had happened as I pulled weeds from around his tombstone. I was struggling with a scintilla of guilt. Bob and I had been deeply in love when he unexpectedly passed away. Was opening my heart to another man a betrayal?

Yet I couldn’t deny it. Falling for this man was entirely out of my control; my heart had gone rogue, flown off, and perched with him.

Two months before Bob died, we had a meaningful conversation, one that now felt eerily prophetic. We both said we would want the other to continue living fully if one of us passed. I knew, without question, that Bob would want me to be happy again.  He would also wholeheartedly approve of the wonderful person who had captured my heart.

Be Still My Heart

This stage of healing along the grief journey is tender and difficult for many widows and widowers. There are layers to work through before becoming open to love again.  Vulnerability, guilt, fear of attachment, and unfinished emotional business can all get in the way. With time, support from other widows, and the help of a therapist who understands grief, it is possible to open your heart again. It is also possible to find a deeply fulfilling relationship. And here’s another secret: you may even find someone better than you ever imagined.

Vulnerability

Becoming emotionally vulnerable again was frightening for me. I could hear myself cautioning, “Hold your heart back a little. Everyone dies.” Attachment felt risky because I knew too well the pain of grief. Losing this amazing man someday could take me back to that dark place, perhaps even more deeply than before.

Once, when he mentioned a medical issue, my automatic response was to cry out of fear. (Thankfully, he was fine and followed medical advice.) Somehow, however, my mind decided that loving again was worth the risk of potential loss. Despite the protective walls I had built around my heart, my guard slipped down.

Finding love again also meant allowing myself to be vulnerable with physical intimacy. My fifty-something body was not the younger version my husband had fallen in love with. Wrinkles, scars, and extra pounds felt like potential deal-breakers. Would someone be able to see past those imperfections and still find beauty in me?  I felt confident in my soul, but like most women, less so about my body. Eventually, I acknowledged that nobody is perfect. If someone couldn’t accept me as I was, then they simply weren’t meant to be my person.

What Will They Think?

Some widows and widowers fear that starting a new relationship will be poorly received by others. How often have we heard the phrase “moving on too soon?” In my case, many years had passed since Bob died, and judgment was not an issue. In fact, it was quite the opposite. My friends and family had prayed for years that I would find love again, and when I began dating, it was warmly welcomed.

Acceptance by friends and family is a concern for most new relationships, especially in widowhood. Loyalty to the deceased can run deep. I remember how I felt when my father dated after my mother passed away. The woman he dated was kind and good, but she wasn’t my mom. It took time for me to warm up to her. Eventually, I understood that no one could replace my mother in my father’s heart, and that he had both the right and the capacity to love again.

Boundaries Around Grief

Making space for someone new meant learning how to respect both his boundaries and my grief. I was aware that mentioning Bob too often could make a new partner feel uncomfortable or as though he were competing with a ghost. One man I dated explicitly told me not to speak my late husband’s name, insisting that Bob had no place in our conversations. Needless to say, I quickly ended that relationship.

I understand how hearing about a former spouse can feel threatening, just as it can after divorce. Some widows idealize their late spouses, making it impossible for new partners to feel they measure up. Fortunately, most of the men I have dated showed empathy and curiosity. They asked questions and allowed my past to be part of my story. Out of respect, I tried not to overshare.

Unresolved Matters and Accepting a Changed Future

Being with someone new can stir unresolved issues from your marriage. Bob and I had a traditional arrangement: I stayed at home with our four children while he worked. After his death, I had to learn how to manage everything on my own. That post-traumatic growth gave me confidence and independence. When considering dating, the thought of depending on someone again felt destabilizing.

One man I dated, who was extremely wealthy, offered to fund a multi-therapist practice for me and buy me a second home in Hawaii. Instead of feeling cared for, I felt very uncomfortable. The power imbalance was too great.  His personality and ethics were, frankly, unbearable, so I moved on.

Letting go of the future you once imagined is one of the hardest parts of widowhood. Bob loved golf; I loved the ocean. We dreamed of retiring along California’s central coast where we could enjoy both. When he died, I knew that dream would likely never happen. Part of my healing has been reimagining my future without him. Life requires leaving some pages unwritten, leaving space for someone new to add verses to your story.

Am I Ready for Love?

Dating before you are emotionally available can create problems, especially if you are still deeply tethered to your late spouse. Everyone has their own timeline, and no one should feel rushed. Widowhood differs from divorce because many of us lost loving, healthy relationships and with this comes our own nuanced issues.  With intentional inner work, it is possible to love again and bring a healthier version of yourself into a new relationship.

Signs You May Not Be Emotionally Available

• Wanting companionship or physical connection without interest in mutual emotional support

• Feeling emotionally drained

• Avoiding deep conversations

• Refusing new ways of doing things

• Resisting new traditions

• Shutting down when a partner needs emotional support

• Using someone as a placeholder

• Avoiding introducing them to friends or family

• Using grief to avoid addressing your partner’s needs

• Putting your grief above the relationship

• Constantly comparing a new partner to your late spouse

• Feeling cold, distant, or defensive about intimacy or the future

Signs You May Be Ready

• You’ve moved past “widow brain” and can make major decisions

• You can imagine a hopeful future separate from the past

• You want a relationship, not just to fill a void

• You can talk about your late spouse without becoming overwhelmed

• Grief no longer dominates your daily life

• You feel strong enough to handle others’ opinions

• You’ve built a fulfilling life on your own

• You believe you are deserving of love

• Feelings of betrayal have eased

• You find yourself expressing interest in dating again

If You’re Unsure

• Be honest with a new partner about where you are

• Move slowly and focus on companionship

• Consider therapy to process grief and emotional readiness

Humans are wired for connection, for giving and receiving love. These needs don’t disappear with loss. Loving again does not diminish the love you had before. Your heart expands. Moving forward doesn’t mean leaving the past behind; it means honoring your life by continuing to live it fully.

If you are struggling with adjusting to this new chapter in your life, please reach out and get in touch with me to schedule an appointment.

Disclaimer: This article is not intended as a substitute for therapy.  It’s for informational purposes only.  If you are struggling with dating after widowhood, please contact a qualified mental health professional who understands grief.