After my husband died suddenly, I started to crave intimacy. This is what it felt like to have sex with other men again… and the horrible abuse I received from other women and widows: KAREN SUTTON

As I looked at the man sleeping next to me and my naked body lying next to him, I felt a whirlwind of emotions.

Joy, guilt, relief, confusion, sadness: All these emotions swirled as I thought about the night of intimacy we had just shared.

This man was not my husband. But this uneasiness was not due to infidelity.

Instead, he was the first man with whom I had an intimate relationship since Simon, my husband of six years, died suddenly of a heart attack less than a year ago, aged just 43. I was 39 years old.

At first, I buried my own pain by focusing on our two daughters. But nine months after Simon’s death, I felt my desire for intimacy and sex revived.

This is the first time I signed up for a dating app; A few months later I found myself sharing a bed with this man.

I’m not alone in seeking intimacy following the death of my partner. This is a phenomenon known as ‘widow’s fever’, and many people find that it catches them by surprise during an already emotionally complex time. But this is a very human reaction.

Unfortunately, not everyone is this understanding. ‘Widow’s fever’ can be an extremely taboo and divisive topic and I have found that the harshest judgments are often made by other widows.

After meeting my current partner Andy in 2019 and becoming the UK’s first ‘widow coach’ a year later, I began sharing my widowhood journey on social media, which has included sleeping with four men since Simon, including Andy.

Since then, my widowed friends have told me that I don’t love my husband. I ‘disrespect’ his memory.

The couple, who met in their 20s, had two daughters who are now 14 and 19 years old.

It was very natural for me to not want to be alone and to want to be single for the rest of my life, and many people supported that. Yet some women seemed proud to live in constant sadness; to suspend one’s own needs and desires forever. And they didn’t hesitate to tell me I was wrong.

But the response only confirmed to me why my role as a widow coach is so important, so I can help other women through this minefield.

I reassure my clients that it is perfectly natural and acceptable to seek pleasure as part of the journey that begins when a partner dies.

I first met Simon in 1998, when I was 21 and he was 25. We were friends for five years before we developed feelings and became a couple. We had our first daughter, who is now 19, and our second child, who is now 14, before we got married in 2010.

We had such a happy marriage, full of plans for the future, that we could never have imagined that it would be cruelly taken away.

One Sunday in September 2016, Simon suffered a heart attack while cycling near our home in Cheltenham, Gloucestershire. Fit and healthy, it was a big shock.

In an instant, his life was over and mine was changed forever. It was absolutely devastating to find out that he was gone and that I was a widow at 39, growing up on my own with two little girls. At first all my energy was spent on the girls. What could be more destabilizing than the sudden disappearance of your father?

However, despite my pain, I quickly decided that losing Simon would not negatively impact my life.

I knew you wouldn’t want me or our daughters to be a victim; instead we were supposed to be survivors of grief.

Perhaps this determination influenced the things I began to feel as the months went by: loneliness and, confusingly, a desire for sexual intimacy.

When we got married, I happily thought I would never sleep with anyone again.

But now I wanted to feel ‘alive’, my heart to beat with excitement, to lose myself next to someone. My life was going on and I needed to show it in the most physical ways. I miss being someone other than a widow.

About nine months after Simon died I decided to ‘out’ myself.

I joined some dating apps in the summer of 2017 and slept with three men with whom I had short-term relationships over the next two years.

At that stage I didn’t feel emotionally capable of doing anything more permanent. As a single mom, I wasn’t in a place for more than one casual getaway.

I made it clear in my dating bio that I was a widow. There was a fine line between wanting it to define me but also wanting to be transparent.

Karen was widowed at the age of 39 with two young daughters whom she had to raise alone. She was worried about introducing her children to another man after their father’s death

The truth is, it was all incredibly strange.

With Simon knowing every inch of me, I wasn’t the least bit self-conscious about the stretch marks and signs of aging that adorned my 40-year-old mother’s body.

Sex with these new men was exposed in every sense.

Being in bed with someone new was a poignant reminder of how dramatically my life had changed, but it was also a reason to believe there was still life to live. I was enjoying the feeling of being desired again, and I knew Simon wouldn’t want me to deprive myself of sexual pleasure. Yet it was still hard to shake the feeling that I had somehow been unfaithful.

Luckily my friends were very supportive. They told me that I was still a young woman and that I should follow my own feelings and not worry about whether I was a ‘good’ widow.

But in early 2019, I decided to step back from dating.

I realized that part of my decision to become sexually active again was in the hope that it would help heal my pain. If I can find excitement and joy again, I will contribute in some way to relieving the deep pain I carry.

But actually the healing had to come from within.

Still, I never regretted these new lovers. I saw them as part of my journey as I rebuilt my life and identity.

Ironically, within months I met my partner Andy at a charity event in May 2019. I felt an instant connection and couldn’t stop thinking about him.

I decided it would be a mistake not to get to know him better.

We started dating in June 2019, and once again I found myself struggling with the anxiety that I wasn’t quite a “widow.” I was falling in love with him, but I still felt like I was betraying Simon.

I was also worried about introducing another man to my children.

Karen with her new partner Andy, whom she met in May 2019

The girls were ages 12 and eight when I first introduced them after two months of dating; I had already explained that I had met a nice guy and was spending time with him. My youngest, Ella, was very excited. The older Sydney was initially more worried.

As she got to know Andy, Ella went through a phase where she didn’t want her father to be ‘changed’. I reassured him that Simon would always be his father and would be very special to us.

The older and more mature Sydney was accepting of my relationship, and over time they both developed their own connections with Andy.

More importantly, Andy didn’t feel threatened by the love I still had for Simon.

This is not to say that such dichotomies are easy to navigate; Memories of my old self were jostling for space with this new me. It takes time.

In 2020, as my relationship with Andy continued to strengthen, I started a new career, having previously worked in the NHS.

After training in health and life coaching as well as bereavement coach programmes, I became the first ‘widow coach’ in the UK, using my experience to support others like me.

I help people discover their own path through loss, and that includes seeking out new sexual partners, if that’s what will help them heal.

I advise my clients to think carefully before diving back into the dating pool.

You need to know what you’re looking for. Is this a casual relationship, something physical and fun that doesn’t require commitment? Or are they looking for a partner to start a new chapter? Both are good, but make sure which one is right for you.

We are already so vulnerable, the last thing we need is to be disappointed, rejected or taken advantage of, especially since the dating environment can be so cruel and widows often become targets of men with less than honorable intentions.

I hear from my clients that they, too, are being judged by other widows who, like me, choose to stay single and single, and how painful it is to endure that.

To anyone who condemns a grieving woman for wanting intimacy or a new relationship, I ask: Is this really who you are? Someone who would deny another widow happiness, comfort, and a new beginning after the worst period of her life?

As a community, we must be respectful of each other’s choices to ‘move forward’ or not when it comes to relationships. No one is right or wrong.

Andy and I started living together in 2021. I have with her what I have with Simon: a sex life based on love, an emotional connection and a feeling of complete security and stability.

I now know that this is what I was looking for when I returned to dating after being widowed.

I also tell my clients who are experiencing widowhood fever that there is no shame in wanting sex after loss.

Our partners are dead, but we are not dead, and we deserve a life of joy and intimacy as much as anyone else.

• Widow Coach offers expert support: karensuton.co.uk
• As told to Eimear O’Hagan