Married, single or widowed? (delete as applicable)

We become very lop-sided individuals when we give up half of
who we are. Good relationships require whole people.

Susan Jeffers, Thoughts of Power and Love, 1997

Someone who has lost a partner is single. The partnership is over; they are beginning a new phase in their adult lives. Many people will acknowledge this truism in public but will secretly have their own private fantasy that nothing has changed.

It’s interesting to note that there is curiously no formal acknowledgement of the end of the partnership. Every other event in life has a ritual statement – birth, death and marriage certificates, educational qualifications, driving licences, divorce decrees – you even get a cycling proficiency certificate. There’s the funeral of course but that is an occasion to mark the death.

We and those around us may be prepared to dwell on feelings about the loss of the person and our own grief but there is rarely a tangible or symbolic event or statement, which reflects on the partnership and declares it completed.

I’m not suggesting that there should be some event. However, because the closure of the relationship is not formally stated, the door is left open for fantasies and uncertainties to creep in.

People might admit shamefully to a close friend that, even years after the death, they still hold everyday conversations with their partner. As they’re watching television they’ll make a comment to be heard only by their partner’s ghost.

Many people have talked about the pain – but eventual satisfaction – of finding some personal way of facing the finality of the relationship. One woman made a point of moving her wedding ring from her left to her right hand; someone else decided he would buy a new bed and reorganise the furniture.

At first, when asked your marital status you’ll automatically reply ‘married’ you’ll become used to calling yourself ‘widow’. You’ll eventually know the strangeness – but freedom – of declaring yourself ‘single’.

Peter would have wanted you to find someone else

How I longed for a nice kind man who would still accept me and even find me special and beautiful – and yet allow me my own sacred, hallowed past. I know I was asking the impossible in those painful early days. I felt like the wounded birds my children used to bring home who needed to be left in a cardboard box with cotton wool padding and fed and stroked from time to time until they healed.

Virginia Ironside, You’ll Get Over It!, 1996

Our first thoughts in bereavement may well be ‘How can I replace what I’ve lost?’ It will be some time before we can face the surprising, but hard, truth – replacement is not an option and neither should it be.

Just because, at present, we can’t imagine ourselves as ‘single’ doesn’t mean that we should think, in the short or long term, about ‘finding someone else’. Our last experience of life outside a long-term relationship may well have been in our youth when we were fuelled with personal growth and the impulse to create a family. Then was then; now is now.

It is likely that beneath our loss and grief we are now much more mature, resourceful and fulfilled in life than were our youthful selves; there may no longer be the same need to become ‘bonded’ in another relationship.

On the other hand some of us have defined ourselves in life by being part of a ‘couple’ and we want to resume this role as quickly as possible. There’s no ‘right’ answer. There are strong advantages and disadvantages on both sides.

Advantages:

• an opportunity for a new, different life – an adventure
• a loving, sexual relationship
• the opportunity to make a ‘wiser’ choice
• company and support
• financial security.

Disadvantages:

• are we just trying to repeat the unrepeatable?
• can we risk not being found loveable?
• are we, yet again, giving up our independence?

• will we be making unfavourable comparisons with the incomparable?
• have we the energy and commitment to give to someone else – maybe even step-children?
• we may have feelings of disloyalty to our last partner.

Seeking another partner relationship

For I’m not so old and not so plain
And I’m quite prepared to marry again.

W. S. Gilbert (1836–1911)

The important thing is that we do what we want – as long as we are clear about why we want to do it.

At first we might never question a wish to resume a partnership with someone – it’s what we’ve been happiest with all this time after all. What we don’t always realise is that we’ll have grown up a lot over the years. We’ll have become (usually) more emotionally confident and self-assured.

We’re likely to be without the doubts, insecurities and need for emotional support that may have lead us into intimate relationships in the past. The drive to settle down and have children may be absent.

We may have grown-up children and financial security. We may, rightly or wrongly, have put away our sexual needs. We may enjoy being independent. It’s worth asking ourselves if we really want to get involved with someone else:

I have come a long way from those early days, from the years of putting myself through school again, to making those first tentative steps towards a career and financial independence. It had been a long-fought battle, and I was not willing to surrender my independence that easily. If I were to embark on a new partnership now, three decades later, it would quite simply have to be on my terms.

Jeanette Kapferman, When the Crying’s Done, 1992

We may think that because we are more confident and mature we have grown out of the embarrassment and awkwardness of adolescence – until we start ‘looking for someone’ in later life with a lifelong partner and grown-up family behind us. Young people are used to making new friends and becoming close very quickly: they are mostly attractive with an easily aroused sexuality. They can in general handle casual relationships and recover from disasters. Now, however, the prospect of an intimate partnership with someone else may well appear fraught with unexpected difficulties.

• If we’ve had a lifelong relationship we didn’t notice so much how we both aged; even when in our sixties we may have felt just the same youthful and sexual people that we were at 21. Any new, other person will definitely not appear as though they were 21. We will have no knowledge of their younger selves and, at first, it may be difficult for both of us to establish the feelings of carefree abandon that we may remember from our youth. We are both more likely to be more ‘serious’ and ‘realistic’ about things; there may not be the same feeling of ‘being swept off our feet’ – which can be a disappointment.
• We, and our potential new partner, will almost certainly bring preconceptions and strong expectations about each other to our first meeting. If we’ve been in long-term relationships we won’t be able to avoid comparisons with our previous partners and, at first sight, the new person won’t measure up. It will take much longer than the first few meetings to see them differently.
• For many years we may have lived a very settled life –satisfying, comfortable, predictable and with not much happening. Our first experience of partnership all those years ago may have been one where we moved (with some relief) from a very hectic, socially active, unpredictable way of life into the quiet dependability of coupledom. It will seem unnatural and uncomfortable for us now to make the reverse journey from a previously fulfilled partnership into the uncertainty, embarrassment and discomfort of seeking a new relationship.

The sexual relationship we had with our dead partner may have been established as a youthful passion and may have grown and matured over the years – we may have been well-practised in knowing how to satisfy each other’s sexual needs. It will have been particular and special to us.

Out of that relationship children may have been born. The continuation of sex after they left home may have continued to have reproductive associations. Both new partners’ expectations of the other may be unmet and both may be disappointed that the other does not match up to their previous partner’s sexual performance. There will need to be a commitment to re-learn much about each other’s needs. On the other hand, we may be surprised at how much better sex is with a new person; this can bring its own guilt and regrets.

If sexuality is important to us we will see any problems as challenges. However, we may have fallen into a pattern with our dead partner which did not include sex or where it had been a problem. Now, the absence of sex may either figure strongly in our grief or it may even be a secret source of relief.

Most people who have been in long-term, worthwhile relationships, however, will have experienced much pleasure from sex. Frequently, indeed, sex will have improved in the latter years as the tensions and exhaustion of family life were reduced. Symbolically, physical intimacy will represent closeness – it can become physically and emotionally addictive.

When there is a sudden loss, our grief may focus on the withdrawal symptoms of sexual deprivation and an aching sexual neediness. This desperate physical yearning can feel dangerous. In our initial shocked state we can be tempted to seek some comfort in a brief liaison with someone else – anybody.

Because it had been so good I hadn’t realised until she was in her last illness how much I could miss that part of our life together. It had been over a year since we’d made love when she died. I never let it show but as she became more ill, I felt so guilty that I was feeling more and more sexually frustrated and resentful.

When she finally died I hated myself for feeling so obsessed about meeting someone else as soon as possible.

For some people this might be a very satisfactory way of meeting their need for closeness, acknowledgement and sexual comfort: for most people, however, it won’t be a good idea. Our associations of sex with ‘specialness’, loyalty, moral behaviour and happiness are usually so strong that we’re likely to come through it with feelings of regret and guilt to cope with – never mind the ‘surprised’ attitude of other people.

‘I’ll never fall in love again...’

When we emerge from the first shock and despair of a bereavement we may find ourselves alone and unsure about our new identity. How we see the future will be strongly influenced by our memories from adolescence when we were about to make our way in the world.

People over 50 will think back to a time when social and sexual rules were very different. There were very clear guidelines for behaviour.

• We would have very polite social contacts, which would develop towards an eventual lifelong marriage.
• Sex was not recreational. It was acceptable only in the context of marriage. (It happened, of course, but furtively and in secret.)
• Men were dominant, women were modest; it was ‘not done’ for women to take a social or sexual initiative.

We may well have taken these attitudes into our marriages. Divorce was shameful, adultery stopped just short of being a crime. When we settled into a rewarding relationship we may have set aside all these worries.

We will have grown with our dead partner into a private intimacy with our own special, almost telepathic, way of communicating – domestically, socially and sexually. Now, stranded without our partner, we may be bewildered about what to do.

• Many people will be influenced by strong widowist attitudes, which tell us that we should ‘respect the memory of our partner’ and come to terms with our ‘aloneness’.
• We will be anxious about presenting ourselves as ‘available’ – we may simply not know how to do it.
• We may not be used to being in places where likely future partners are likely to be found.
• We know that social and sexual rules have changed since ‘our day’ but we don’t really know what they are (we’ll have fears and fantasies, though).

Our most immediate concern may be about our appearance. We remember that ‘in our day’ making relationships was all about looking good. We were surprised how little this had come to matter in our relationship with our dead partner but the prospect of us looking for someone else with our bulges of fat and wrinkles seems faintly ridiculous. Surprising research, however, shows that we – particularly men – are generally much less interested in looks than people think. Being attractive may be important early on but when it comes to thinking about becoming partners we are much more interested in other factors – personality, warmth, sensitivity and sense of humour.

We associate romance with youthful bodies and assertive sexuality and as we become older we may imagine these concepts to be ridiculous when applied to us. Only 43 per cent of widows ever have a sexual relationship after they lose their partner (as opposed to 82 per cent of women who are divorced).

The truth is we may be prejudiced against ourselves. Actually, older people have an even greater skill and capacity for making new loving and sexually fulfilling relationships than young people. Look at our experience of life and the lessons we have learned about how to get along with people.

We may regret not being 17 – but remember the clumsiness and inexperience. Age brings assurance and an increased capacity for experiencing pleasure. For the first time we may feel free to take an initiative and ask for what we want sexually. Perhaps we should read some sex manuals and erotic literature. We may need to learn about safe-sex – maybe it didn’t matter before.

The best rule of thumb is to trust our instincts: we should steer clear of anything that feels manipulative or coercive – if it feels good, it is good.

Paul Gebhard, a researcher, came up with a couple of interesting facts.

• If we’ve previously had pre-marital or extra-marital sex, we’re much more likely to be motivated to seek a new partner than someone whose life has been only in a single relationship.

• A much higher percentage of widows than married women have orgasms in every act of love-making.

It may be a couple of years before we really gain an equilibrium, before we are sufficiently detached from the previous relationship to be able to present ourselves as an authentic individual – no longer a victim of loss. We need to re-create and ‘love’ ourselves before we are coherent and loveable to someone else.

And yet there may still he a yearning for companionship, hugs and sex which – early on – may he a straightforward need for physical and emotional support – not to he confused as the lead-in to a long relationship. Many people find this need satisfied by discreet no-strings casual affairs, which, if well conducted by people who know what they are doing, can bring some comfort. However, this time is also a time of vulnerability where intentions can be misinterpreted and feelings misread.

Virginia Ironside, You’ll Get Over It!, 1996

How to find a new partner

Stop looking.

At least for the time being. There’s no need to rush. Indeed it’s been said that we need a year of readjustment for every four years of the partnership (which is surprisingly cruel advice to someone who was married for 40 years (rules are there to be broken).

Above all we must distrust any sense of urgency to replace our dead partner. Our interest in establishing a new relationship should be initiated by the appeal of the other person – rather than any generalised sense of restlessness in ourselves. It could be that there is a desperation to replace the emotional security from the previous relationship – or it may be that our dented self-esteem is telling us that we just can’t manage on our own.

The first thing to do – and this is essential – is to get out more. You need to find the new ‘you’ in the context of other people. It will be hard at first but you should try, tentatively, to become part of one or more groups of people who share your interests. This is an opportunity to develop previously postponed activities, sports or hobbies. The idea is to place yourself amongst new people in new surroundings; it’s only in these conditions that you will be able to re-create yourself as an unpartnered individual. It’s best to find something to do which may be a totally new experience.

We should put out of our mind any thought of seeking or finding a new partner. Wait until we feel comfortable with our renewed social confidence.