This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Nicky Wake. It has been edited for length and clarity.
Around a year after my husband, Andy, 57, died after having a heart attack that led to catastrophic brain injuries, I dabbled in online dating.
There were false starts in the form of men suggesting we move our conversation from Tinder or Bumble to WhatsApp — and then sending dick pics. I also had a string of dates with a guy who turned out to be married.
Then I met a lovely man whose company I enjoyed. But, one day, he asked if I was still grieving for Andy. "Yes," I said, adding, "I'll be grieving for him for the rest of my life."
It was very problematic. He couldn't understand where I was coming from. The relationship ended because I said I wasn't ready to move in with him and get engaged.
I knew I wanted to fall in love again, but I couldn't be with anyone who couldn't respect what had gone before. Andy was a fundamental part of me becoming the woman that I was.
Andy and I had been married since 2004. I was the extrovert who traveled the world to stage events, while he was the introvert who stayed home and looked after our son, Finn. I'd go to places like Dubai and Las Vegas, knowing I'd come back to the safety and comfort that Andy provided for our family.
If a new man were to enter my life, I had one important condition: he must at least tolerate my grief. He needed to be OK with the framed wedding pictures in the house and those not-so-good days like memorial birthdays and anniversaries.
But I couldn't find that person. My head was full of memories of lost love. This would threaten most people, and it's a hard thing to compete against.
Then I realized my prospects would be better if I dated someone in a similar position to me.
I searched for dating apps exclusively for widows and found nothing that I liked that was geared toward younger people. As an entrepreneur, I could smell an opportunity. I launched Chapter 2, a safe space for exploring relationships that welcomed anyone who has lost a life partner or significant other.
It's a safe space to explore relationships. We verify everybody's widow status as far as we possibly can. You have to confirm the name of your late partner, the date of their death, and a link to their obituary or memorialized Facebook page. People have also emailed me copies of a death certificate.
When you're dating as a widow, there's a stigma around telling people, whether it's your family or your date. It's a passion killer if you bring it up on your first meeting. Or, if you leave it too long, it seems like you've been keeping a dirty secret.
We have 8,000 members in the UK. It's about 65% women and 35% men. Chapter 2 launched in the US, Canada and Australia at the beginning of July. We had a lot of success stories, including people who got engaged or married. One couple had photos of each of their late spouses displayed at their recent wedding as a way of honoring them.
I'm still single. I date now and again, but my priority at the moment is Finn, now 15, as we start preparing for his college years.
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