Dear Grief Guide, I'm Grieving My Secret Affair Partner

A woman whose affair partner died wonders whether she, as "the other woman," has the right to feel grief surrounding this secret loss. I read her anonymous letter and then offered her practical tools and compassionate wisdom for growing through grief.

Dear Grief Guide is a weekly advice podcast where I answer anonymous letters from people feeling lost, stuck, or overwhelmed in the midst of grief.

Music © Adi Goldstein, Used with Permission

Transcript

Hello and welcome to Dear Grief Guide, A podcast where each week I answer one anonymous letter from a listener feeling lost, Stuck, Heartbroken, Or overwhelmed in the midst of grief. My name is Shelby Forsythia. I'm a grief coach and author, And I'm here to help you create a life you love from the life loss forced you to live. Let's get to today's letter. Dear Grief Guide, My story is riddled with taboo and infidelity. Basically, My affair partner died. But it's not that simple. While our relationship was built out of secrets, Over our four years together we went from an emotional relationship to a physical relationship to best friends. We realized that we could never be a couple, But we were still connected. We were soulmates, Just not in this lifetime. He died suddenly after a long battle with addiction and depression, One that I watched and tried so hard to save him from. The grief is consuming, Yet sometimes feels like it shouldn't even belong to me. I'm struggling with how to move on and properly grieve my secret life. Signed, Foe Widow. Hi there, Foe Widow. My heart hurts for you. This may come as a surprise to some listeners, But I have been a secret affair partner before, Sometimes with my knowledge, And sometimes I had no idea that that was who I was to someone. So I know some semblance of the kind of pain that you are in. There is so much wrapped up in the secrecy and intimacy between two people when their love is not allowed to be shared openly, For whatever reason. Societal, Judgmental, LGBTQ, Secrecy, For example. So so many reasons. I can imagine that what you're going through not only feels extraordinarily isolating, But also feels at times like you shouldn't be allowed to have feelings at all. After all, I imagine either voice in your head or society, Friends, Family, Anybody in your life might be telling you, You should have never been with this guy at all, Right? So what worth or value do your feelings have if you were never meant to be a part of his life in the first place? That is the mean voice, That is the critical, Scolding finger sometimes that can live in the very center of our brains. And on top of that, Who on earth are you going to share these feelings with besides me, Your local neighborhood grief podcaster? It's not as if you can grieve this loss out in the open with friends or family members. There may be some people you have to continue to keep this a secret from. This is a unique form of partner loss. And the fact that it is a secret grief, Heartbreakingly, Is very, Very, Very heavy. And I cannot overstate that. I bet if I had to guess that you are exhausted on some deep soul level. From the sounds of your letter, You and your partner were so much to each other. You played such a big role in each other's lives, And you saw bits and pieces and probably sometimes very vibrant pictures of your partner's suffering that I'm sure no one else in his life ever saw. And then you tried to save him from that. I just want to reiterate that that's a lot. It is the stuff that deep soulmate relationships are made of. Suffice it to say, Faux widow, I am so glad that you wrote to me. Please know that this podcast is a judgment-free zone. I have worked with quite a few clients grieving secret elements of their grief and been a witness to stories that people couldn't share anywhere else for fear of judgment or ridicule or being cast out of a group. First I hope that beyond writing to me, You will find a community or at least one safe person in your life to process this grief with. And while the secret of this grief belongs to you, It can also be held and witnessed by someone else or a community of someone else's, Whether that looks like something like therapy or group support or even in Life After Loss Academy if you're interested in working with me and being supported by our community in that group. Secondly, If you're into affirmations or self-validations, As I am just now calling them for the first time in this moment, I've never called them that, But sometimes validating ourselves is the best gift we can give to ourselves when we're grieving, Just telling yourself it's okay to grieve him. It's okay to love him. In some ways, His heart belonged to me too. In a society that would tell you that none of those things are okay to say, You can be the first place that says they are and say it until you believe it. If you live alone or with people who knew about your relationship, You could even write these up and post them up places where you see them often. Make them your phone wallpaper. Where can you place these things so that you are putting yourself in the way of words that literally validate what is inside of and happening within your heart? And then when you're feeling ready to explore this, I hope that you'll find some way of carrying him forward with you. This could be a totem, Like a little mini physical object. If you have pictures of him, Maybe framing one or keeping one in a wallet if people even carry wallets anymore. Lockets are romantic. So is jewelry. Maybe a custom word that you might get tattooed on your body if you're into getting tattoos. You might buy a plant in honor of him and keep it alive if you have a green thumb. You might even have some sort of ritual where you light a candle and say a few words in honor of him each day. You might, If you want to make this really big, You could take time off work, Even a long weekend, Or create your own sort of bereavement leave retreat. You could go somewhere. You could do something to honor the fact, Take the trip with him in mind, And honor the fact that he is no longer on earth with you, But you carry him forward in your memory. If at all possible, And I know it's such a privilege to take time to grieve, Give yourself the equivalent time to process this loss as if it were the loss of a partner or the loss of a husband. I personally believe, And I know that so many people who are listening will agree with me, That soulmates can come in a lot of forms. Humans, Animals, People we're married to, People we befriend, People who save us one time and we never see again, Like a guardian angel sort of situation. People we date and then break up with, Because we needed to teach each other something, But maybe we weren't good together in the long term. People we're mentored by, Grandparents who sit by our side or watch over us, And people we have never even met because they have already gone before. Soulmates exist in so, So many forms, Including and beyond the people we tie ourselves to through marriage. Based on your letter, Based on your words, I have no doubt, There is no doubt in my mind of the connection that the two of you shared together, But one of the devastating consequences of losing an affair partner we consider to be a soulmate is being relegated to grieving that person in secret. If you're open to it, If this resonates with you, You might look up documentaries of queer couples who weren't allowed to openly grieve their partners, Especially during the AIDS crisis, Or maybe even interracial couples who were not allowed to openly grieve either in the 1970s, 60s, 50s, And before. You might find some camaraderie in knowing that there are others who have loved, Who have also had to keep their love and elements of their grief a secret. What I know for sure for you, Faux widow, Is that moving forward will require your peacemaking – that's a very key word – however difficult making peace ends up being, With the fact that your relationship is and was a secret. Remember that acceptance, In the words of Cheryl Strayed, Is not about being okay with what happened, It is about telling the truth of what happened, And sometimes the truth is very sticky and heavy and unchangeable and behind closed doors, Closed to the public. I have so much compassion for you, I have so much faith in you, And I hope you'll reach out with another letter, Or to join Life After Loss Academy, Or to work together one-on-one as you find your way. Good luck.