Dancing Salamanders

Losing a Partner

15 August 20246 min read

You shared a bed, a daily life and plans for the future with someone. And then, from one day to the next, that person is gone — and you are left in the middle of a life you built together, alone. If you're reading this because your partner took their life, we want to say one thing first: we know there are no words that are enough. Those of us who have ourselves lost a partner to suicide recognise what can't be explained to someone who hasn't been there. You don't need to understand everything. You don't need to manage everything. Right now it's enough that you're breathing.

What makes this grief so hard is that it comes in two layers at once. One is the loss itself — the love, the missing, the emptiness in what was yours together. The other is all the practical things that flood in when you least have the capacity for them. And in the middle of all of it, you're missing the one person you would have leaned on if something like this had happened.

The Grief and the Chaos Come at the Same Time

The first weeks can feel like standing in two storms at once. On one side, grief that is sometimes so large the body doesn't know what to do with it. On the other, a list of practical things that nobody is ready for: finances, bills, perhaps the housing, contacts with authorities, a funeral to plan. If you have children you may suddenly be a lone parent overnight — with your own grief and theirs.

Many of us describe it as running on autopilot while your heart is shattered. That's entirely normal. The body does what it can to carry you through the acute phase. Be kind to yourself for everything you actually manage, even on the days when the only thing you did was get out of bed.

If the practical things feel insurmountable: you don't need to solve everything yourself, and you don't need to solve everything now. Write down what's genuinely urgent, and let the rest wait. Most things can wait longer than it feels like they can.

The Particular Loneliness

There is a particular loneliness in this loss. When something difficult happened in life, your partner was who you turned to. Now the most difficult thing of all has happened — and that person is the one who is missing. Many of us find ourselves reaching for someone who is no longer there, over and over, before the brain catches up.

The bed is too big. Dinner is too quiet. There are a thousand small moments every day where there were two of you and now there is one. That kind of loneliness doesn't show on the outside, but it's real, and it deserves to be taken seriously.

You don't need to fill the emptiness with activity or strong facades. But you don't need to carry it entirely alone either. Sitting with others who understand, without needing to explain, can make that silence a little less heavy.

Losing a partner to suicide is to miss both the love and the arms you would have sought comfort in. It's two griefs at once — and both are allowed to take up space.

All the Feelings at Once — Including the Hard Ones

Love. Abandonment. Anger. Guilt. Tenderness. Sometimes all of it within the space of an hour. Many partners carry feelings that seem contradictory, even forbidden: missing someone deeply and at the same time being angry at them. Loving and feeling left behind, at the same time.

That doesn't mean you loved wrong or too little. It means you're a person who has lost someone in one of the hardest ways there is. Anger is often grief that hasn't found other words. Abandonment is love that doesn't know where to go. All of these feelings are allowed to exist, at the same time, without you having to choose one and discard the rest.

And no — your partner didn't die because of something you did or didn't do. Suicide always has a complex background that no single person bears responsibility for. The "what-ifs" that grind on can be something we carry together, but they don't deserve to become a verdict about you.

Facing Other People's Questions

Sooner or later the questions come from the outside world. Some are well-meaning but clumsy. Others are curious in the wrong way. Many of us have stood there searching for words, or felt compelled to comfort the person who asked.

You decide what you share, with whom and when. It's entirely in order to have one simple sentence ready: "He died by suicide, and I'm not able to talk about it right now." Or to just say you don't want to talk about it at all. You don't owe anyone an explanation. Your grief is yours.

Being a Parent in Grief — While the Children Grieve

If you have children, you face something doubly heavy: carrying your own grief and at the same time being the safe adult for children who have also lost someone. Many parents feel guilty for not being able to be "whole" for their children. But children don't need a perfect parent. They need a present, honest parent who is allowed to be sad sometimes.

It's okay to cry in front of your children. It's okay to say "I'm also very sad, and we'll help each other." Showing that grief is allowed to exist teaches them that their own grief is allowed to exist too. You don't need to find all the right words alone — there is support for both you and the children.

Accept Help — and Make No Major Decisions in the First Period

Two things we want to place gently in your hands.

First: let others help you. Many of us are used to managing on our own, and asking for help feels unfamiliar. But people around you often want to do something — let them cook, collect the children, sit quietly beside you. It takes the weight off you, and it does good for them too.

Second is advice you may already have heard: try to postpone the large, irreversible decisions for the first period — selling the home, moving far away, getting rid of everything that was theirs. Not because it would be wrong, but because you deserve to make such decisions when the storm has settled a little and you can hear your own voice more clearly. It's your life and your pace — take it as a gentle reminder, not a rule.

Grief after a partner doesn't end, but it changes. It gradually becomes something you can carry, not something that knocks you down. And you don't have to make that journey alone.


Support right now:

  • Mind Självmordslinjen (Sweden): Call 90101 or chat at mind.se — open around the clock, anonymous and free
  • 1177 — healthcare advice around the clock
  • Emergency: 112
  • Cruse Bereavement Support (UK): cruse.org.uk — 0808 808 1677
  • International Association for Suicide Prevention: iasp.info