I've been thinking about how to address dating after loss on here and I keep putting it off. But, it's a topic that has surfaced a few times in the last week so I'm taking that as a cue to dive in. And, as always, these are just my thoughts and not necessarily professional advice.
The most important point I can possibly make on here is that everyone is different. There is no right or wrong to dating after losing a partner but what can be very helpful - even if you're just considering it - is being very honest and clear on why.
I was widowed on the younger side of life and sharks started circling almost immediately. I was shocked, actually, by some people who reached out and suddenly wanted to be very close friends. On the surface, the gesture of friendship and support was appreciated but predictably there would be pressure for more. One man - who I barely knew - even went so far as to tell me he "had" to accompany me on vacations, as if I needed protection and his in particular. Hard pass there.
So, I think the first consideration is who is reaching out and what their intentions are. After losing our partners, we often feel disoriented, insecure, and disjointed - all on top of profound sadness. These are not feelings that should control our decision-making. Loneliness will likely creep up, so do we want to date just to deter that? Not the wisest idea. Seeking out attention to fill the loss is temporary and isn't a great way to enter into a new relationship.
If and when we do feel ready, pay attention to a date's reaction when you talk about your lost partner. Are they annoyed? Defensive? Bored? Believe me when I say I understand that it feels like a comparison - I was Bill's first serious girlfriend after his wife Laura died - but a true potential won't be on the defensive. We shouldn't feel like we can't talk about our lost partner because they were a huge part of our life. My relationship with Bill helped make me who I am now - it's absurd to pretend otherwise. Editing out his impact on me is dishonest and evasive.
This doesn't mean we should canonize our lost partners, either. I've talked about this before but when Bill and I started dating, I was a bundle of anxiety because I thought I could never live up to Laura. After all, we rarely bring up any negative memories of someone we lost so everything I'd heard about her seemed saintly. One day, Bill casually mentioned something about her lack of patience and I burst out laughing because it was such a humanizing detail that it put me at ease. Of course Laura was not a saint - no one is. Bill was not a saint either. He was funny and warm and loving and adventurous - but he was also stubborn as hell. When I talk about Bill, I make sure to include all of him. He was a real person and I don't want my current partner to feel like he has to live up to an ideal that never really existed in the first place.
If we consider dating again, consider the very real possibility of being hurt. Are we willing to risk our emotions? Are we strong enough to? After all, most first, second, or even third dates don't lead to anything more lasting. Have we allowed ourselves enough time to understand that dating means risk? I know I was far too raw for quite a while to even entertain the idea of adding more pain on.
I think for me, entering back out into the world came down to the difference between want and need. If I felt like I needed to be with someone - because I was lonely or felt insecure - it meant I needed to actually step back and see the ways in which I could fulfill those gaps on my own.
But if and when you are ready: go for it! Listen to your gut. Be honest and clear.
And, enjoy! You've survived and deserve happiness.
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