The Real Truth About Faltering Friendships That Only Widows Know

The Real Truth About Faltering Friendships That Only Widows Know

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Short and Sweet Summary: We’ve all had friends who claimed to “be there” for us in any number of ways and just didn’t keep their promises. I’m sure they meant well, but the real truth about faltering friendships that only widows know is when it comes to the cluster fuck that is grief, only the strong friendships survive.

Let me take a wild guess…

You’ve lost some friends on your grief journey.

How did I know?

Because it happens to the best of us.

We all had friends who claimed to “be there” for us in any number of ways and just didn’t keep their promises. I’m sure they meant well, but when it comes to the cluster fuck that is grief, only the strong friendships survive.

Faltering Friendships
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Tragedy plops friends smack dab into one of two camps. You’ve got the friends who don’t know what to do but jump into action anyway. And, you’ve got the friends who don’t know what to do, so they avoid you like the plague.

The friendships with the avoidant types were on the verge of collapse anyway. The real truth about faltering friendships that only widows know is that grief just pushed those fringe friends right on over the edge.

Which one of these friend types are you glad you said sayonara to?


Some friends like to ask generic questions and don’t really want to know the answer. 

You know who I’m talking about. The folks who act like they have the time or inclination to listen to your answers, but don’t.

Not really.

I’m not trying to be mean or anything, but honestly, most of the questions from these friends are rhetorical. Standard societal courtesy, that’s all. The questions aren’t truly an offer to listen intently about how grief is holding you hostage and how you question whether you’ll have normal, rational thoughts again.

The rhetorical questions make the person asking the question feel better. 

The rhetorical question-askers, like grocery store passersby and school curriculum night attendees, see you and wave and gush about how they “think about you all the time!” And then, when they ask how you’re doing and you say, “I’m doing OK,” they tilt their head sideways in that annoying pseudo-sympathetic way and go, “no, really, how are you doing? You can tell me the truth.”

At that point you want to go all Colonel Nathan R. Jessup in A Few Good Men and scream at the top of your lungs:

I'm OK Except When I'm Not

Do people really want to know what it’s like to curl up in a fetal position in your closet and cry so hard you choke on your own mucus? Can they possibly understand the terror that invades your every waking hour because of your own irrational fear of dying? I’m not convinced the general population can really handle the truth about how the crushing anxiety over raising your kids alone and making every single, solitary decision by yourself makes it hard to breathe.

The real truth about faltering friendships that only widows know is that you let these simple folks off the hook. They can’t handle the truth.

So you say, “I’m OK.” Even when you’re not OK.

And you don’t waste your time on these friends anymore. You only see them occasionally. Not everyone needs the full deets on what’s going on with you post widowhood. Your energy is better spent elsewhere.


Do you have a disappearing friend who bails at the first sign of distress? The real truth about faltering friendships that only widows know is that these friends can’t handle their own mortality.

OMG…your husband has a terminal illness? You mean, like, he’s going to die? Like, not make it? Ugh. I can’t deal. 

Some of these friends lack essential problem-solving skills but hold out hope that your dying husband will make it because, you know, they prayed and all. They stick around during the whole ordeal but when death raps its bony knuckles on your door, they disengage. They have to face their own mortality and the realization that sometimes prayers don’t work as intended.

So, they bail.

WTF? How is this even possible? Faith doesn’t mean shit. Everything I’ve believed up until now is shit. I can’t even cope with life, let alone help her cope with death. Maybe I’m just a shitty friend. She’s better off without me. I’m out.

The real truth about faltering friendships that only widows know is that some friendships aren’t worth saving. If friends bail when your grief is AT ITS WORST, it’s time to let ’em go.


I never knew how to explain getting the life sucked out of me when I was around certain people. I was irritated, for sure, but the other bored, anxious, and stressed emotions confused me. But I never knew how to explain it.

What Widows Know About Faltering Friendships

And then some genius coined the term “energy vampire” and, holy hell. It all started to make sense.

These particular narcissists hijack your grief space and refuse to give you any time to sort out your own feelings before shoving their feelings down your throat.

I know *exactly* how you feel. When our dog died, I couldn’t deal. I mean, I had to tell my kids their dog had cancer! How sad is that? I cried for days.

My grandma died of cancer. I can totally relate to what you’re going through. I couldn’t get out of bed for days. 

Huh? Dogs and grandmothers trump dead husbands and fathers of children?


Dealing with an energy vampire friend while grieving is like swimming in a rip current. The rip current doesn’t pull you under but it tires you out if you try to swim against it.  You have to swim out of the rip current altogether. Same with the energy vampire. Dump that friendship as fast as you can because you’ll deplete your energy stores and exhaust yourself trying to have rational discussions with this dingbat.

Besides, grief isn’t a competition. Your real friends know that.

Your energy is precious and I’m assuming in very short supply. Don’t waste an ounce of it.


Friends can let us down in different ways. Sometimes friends think they’re protecting us by keeping information we’re actually better off knowing.  Other times, they insert opinions into matters that really don’t require a personal assessment.

Maybe some friends don’t reach out as much as you’d like. Or they make plans without you because they assume you’ll decline an invitation to a gathering of mostly couples.

I know I’d rather make the decision to attend gatherings or not instead of being left out of the loop altogether.

Grief is hard enough without worrying about which friends have your back.

Besides, everyone has their own lives to lead. After the first year or so some friends just aren’t committed to hearing about your continued grief. They aren’t committed to the friendship when their lives go on while yours continues to fall apart.

The friends who let you down might be looking for a way out, too. Maybe just give them the extra nudge they need to end an already rocky relationship.


It’s not easy being friends with a widow. The grief is oppressive for everyone involved, not just the grievers. Cracks we never saw become more visible in faltering friendships when you add in the stress of grief.  It’s unrealistic to expect that all of your friendships will withstand every traumatic life event. They aren’t supposed to. It’s called self-reflection.

When the cracks start to surface, it’s time to re-examine why the friendship exists in the first place.

Perhaps the relationships are already emotionally draining. Maybe it’s all-out toxic and the struggle for dominance is more than you can handle.

Do you feel like you give more than you receive?

These cracks give you the opportunity to examine what the friendship means to you and decide if it’s even worth it for this person to take up space in your life. Some friendships are definitely worth saving. I think you know in your gut which ones are meant to last even with a few cracks starting to show.

But if you’re internally debating, contemplating pros and cons or justifying repeated behavior, it might be time to say goodbye.

How have your friendships changed since becoming a widow? Share in the comments!

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  1. Though I’m not a widow, I can relate to some of this Kim. My wife died at 44 of acute myeloid leukemia. From diagnoses, she was gone within 5 months. But I too, had long-time friends tell me after the funeral, “don’t hesitate to call. I mean it”. But, I always had the feeling they meant things like giving one of my kids a ride, or helping with something around the house.

    Funny, but that stuff didn’t phase me as much as not being able to relate to anyone about the loss itself. Like, what it’s like taking your 10 & 7 year olds to a cemetery on Mother’s day, while they’re all out to brunch. Or buying yourself Christmas presents and wrapping them just so it feels a little more ‘normal’ for them. None of them can relate to the times like seeing your kid light up with a smile, but now you realize that the joy you felt in those moments was because you could share it with their other biological parent.

    It’s hard creating a new normal for the family. Having to stretch yourself in ways you never did before. It’s been about 9 years now for us, and theres not a day that goes by where I don’t ache for them, and hope that they have long, healthy marriages and families. It certainly does make you appreciate your own health and the little things. I think your site will help a lot of widows. Great posts!

    1. Hi Bill, thanks so much for your input.

      To lose a parent at such a young age is devastating for our kids and so very difficult for the remaining parent to navigate. Especially when we’re riding our own grief waves. Ugh.

      I’ve bought my own Christmas presents too 🙂

      My kids still struggle, as do I, but we’re learning how to make the best of a crappy situation. Adversity breeds character and my kids, and I’m sure yours too, have it in spades!

  2. Thank you for sharing this!! As a mom who lost her husband from suicide three months ago
    I’ve already experienced so much of this.

    1. Hi Bailee,

      It hurts that we have to experience faltering friendships on top of everything else, but it helps to know you’re not alone 🙂 Thanks for reading!

  3. Bill – you are as much part of this group as any widowed person here.My mother died at age 33 mny years ago and it was not addressed at all. She left 5 children with an alcoholic father who remarried almost a year to the date of her death. My husband died 12 years ago and your post talked to me so thank you. I am very sorry for your heartbreak and for your children. I know & understand this heartbreak from a child’s point of view and a widow point as well. .

  4. I have had so many tell me that they were sorry that they stalled coming to see me because they didn’t know what to talk about!!! I told them ” talk about anything!”
    “We didn’t want to remind you”. ?? Remind me??? I don’t need others to remind me that my husband is gone. I only have to see my kids struggling, school teachers calling me bc my son cries at school bc everyone is making a father’s day gift!!!
    A few weeks after my husband passed away, a “friend” of mine said ” well, now you’re a single woman”. ? What??????
    Friends that we had had for years, at the funeral, said ” when the dust settles” we will get together. The dust has never settled and I never did see them again
    Too many stories to tell
    One of the worst was with one of my husband’s closest friends. We were all high school friends.
    He helped with my kids for the first year but I think he hung around so I could help HIM grieve!!!!! So, earlier this year, he decided he’d had enough of my grieving and that it was too sad to visit with us. He became irritated that my younger son ( he was 14 when he lost his father) kept talking about his fun memories with his dad. WTF! ? The gaul to say that to him in my house!!!!!! Bye bye.
    Also sad bc he was a close connection to my husband and as we were all high school friends. I ” grieved” losing this connection but as you mentioned, I feel better. He was too heavy a weight and I couldn’t handle worrying about his “grief” over mine and my kids.
    Grief. What a journey.


    1. Antonella, it’s no surprise widows have the same stories to tell over and over. People just don’t understand grief so they try to avoid it. Which means avoiding you. Which is a crappy thing to experience after an already devastating loss. Even though it stings, it’s not uncommon, like, at all 😔.

  5. I’ve had to end my friendship with my sister. She’s ten years older and was acting like my mother
    The day I decided that I was done was when she compared the loss of my husband to her divorce. She was talking about her loneliness
    Wtf!! Your ex husband is still walking around living his life! They made the choice to end their marriage, I didn’t

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