Having lost a partner, Christmas can be lonely

Three Greater Manchester widows are joining forces this Christmas, alongside a fellow widow whose late husband grew up in Manchester, to ensure no one grieving the loss of a partner feels alone. Together they are launching #WidowedAtChristmas, a new campaign offering solidarity, comfort and community at a time of year that can feel painfully isolating after bereavement.

Launched earlier this year, The Widowed Collective provides free peer-to-peer support for anyone who has lost a romantic partner. It offers a moderated online community, practical guidance on legal matters, finances, solo parenting and wellbeing, and a growing programme of online and in-person meet-ups across the UK.

Open to widowed people of all ages, genders, sexual identities and marital statuses, the organisation provides a safe, stigma-free space led entirely by those with lived experience. Its board is made up exclusively of widows and widowers, ensuring every aspect of the organisation reflects the realities of life after loss.

In December, The Widowed Collective is also launching free online weekly drop-in sessions for widows and widowers, taking place every Monday evening, including during Christmas week.

The Widowed Collective

By and for people who lost a partner

The campaign has been created and launched by widows Nicky Wake, Natalie Bolton, Heather Smith and Rosie Moss, each of whom has endured the heartbreak of losing their partner and the emotional weight of navigating Christmas during grief. United by their lived experience, they have come together to share support, guidance and hope with others who are facing the season without the person they love.

The four women are all board members of The Widowed Collective, the free, peer-to-peer support organisation founded in Manchester earlier this year and now operating nationwide. The group is backing the campaign by sharing widows and widowers’ stories, advice and resources throughout December, and inviting the widowed community from Greater Manchester and beyond to join the conversation using #WidowedAtChristmas.

Nicky: Christmas changed forever

Founder Nicky Wake, 53, who now lives in Manchester after many years based in Bury, lost her husband Andy in 2020, three years after he suffered a catastrophic heart attack and cardiac arrest in 2017 which left him with a severe brain injury. After years of complications, hospital stays and specialist care, Nicky spent multiple Christmases navigating uncertainty while parenting their son Finn alone, until Andy died in a neurocare facility at the age of 57. His loss reshaped her life and ultimately inspired her to create The Widowed Collective so that others would never feel as isolated as she had.

Nicky said:

Christmas changed forever the year Andy died. The pressure to be festive when your heart is in pieces is enormous. Every song, every advert, every empty chair feels like a reminder of what you’ve lost. That’s why we created #WidowedAtChristmas, to offer a moment of solidarity, of honesty, and to remind people that whatever they’re feeling, they don’t need to carry it alone.

I remember Andy as warm, wickedly funny and deeply loving, the kind of dad who made every tradition feel magical. Christmas has a way of magnifying grief, but it can also magnify connection. Nobody understands a widow like another widow, and that sense of community can be life-changing.
My advice to anyone facing their first Christmas without their partner is take it hour by hour. Be gentle with yourself. You don’t have to perform joy or match anyone else’s expectations. Do whatever feels manageable, and please know that you are not alone.

Natalie: there will be joy and sadness at Christmas

Natalie Bolton, 49, who is based in Didsbury, met her husband Jonathan in 1998. They married in 2002 and welcomed twin daughters in 2007, Amelia and Isobel. In March 2021, on Mother’s Day, Jonathan died unexpectedly at home from a sudden cardiac arrest, leaving Natalie to raise their girls alone as teenagers. His death came without warning, devastating a family built on laughter, closeness and deep affection.

Natalie said:

Jonathan adored being a dad. He was wrapped around the girls’ fingers from day one. Our home was full of laughter, noise and love, and then suddenly it was just gone. Our first Christmas without him was something we simply couldn’t face. It was awful, painful in a way I didn’t know was possible. We did the only thing we felt able to do and ran away. We went to Mauritius because the idea of being at home without him was unbearable. The grief came with us, of course, but at least there was space to breathe.

Now, as I approach my first Christmas hosting at home again, I know there will be joy and sadness , and that’s okay. Grief doesn’t take a holiday. You’re allowed to cry one minute and laugh the next. You’re allowed to scale things back or create new traditions. Christmas can hold grief and hope at the same time. Widowhood is lonely, misunderstood and full of stereotypes. We’re here to break those open and make sure people feel seen, heard and supported, especially at this time of year.
My advice to anyone dreading Christmas is allow yourself to feel whatever comes. There is no ‘right’ way to do this. Let people help you. And remember that tiny moments of joy do not erase your grief, they coexist with it.

Heather: finding my ‘widow tribe’ saved me

Heather Smith, 37, from Stockport, met her husband Stuart in 2011. They married in 2013 and had two children, Georgia and Toby. In 2020, Stuart was diagnosed with kidney cancer. After a year of treatment, he died in July 2021, just three days before their daughter’s seventh birthday. At the time, their son was only two. Heather found herself widowed at 33, raising two young children and trying to navigate the silence left by a man who had been the joyful centre of their family.

Heather said:

Stuart was Christmas. He loved everything about it, the cooking, the silliness, the magic. He was the life and soul of it all. Our first Christmas without him was devastating. It was pure survival. I tried so hard for the kids and for the grandparents, but inside I was completely broken. Friends meant well, but they were wrapped up in their own family Christmases and I felt more alone than ever.
I wish I had reached out sooner. Finding my widow ‘tribe’ saved me. Young widowhood is excruciatingly lonely, but once you find people who truly get it, everything starts to feel a little lighter. Nearly five years on, I have begun creating new traditions while honouring the old ones. Our lives look different now, but there is still joy, and Stuart would have wanted that.
My advice to anyone facing Christmas after losing their partner is take the pressure off. Do whatever helps you get through the day. If all you manage is surviving it, that is enough. When you feel ready, reach out, because there is a whole community here waiting for you, and you don’t have to go through this alone.

Rosie: I escaped to Cape Verde the first Christmas without him

Rosie Moss, 44, met her husband Ben, who grew up in Manchester, and built a life with him in Kent full of warmth, humour and a close-knit family. In March 2018, Ben failed to resurface while scuba diving off the Kent coast. Despite extensive searches, his body was never found. Rosie, then 37, was left to raise their three young children, Monty, Hector and Tabitha, while dealing with traumatic uncertainty, public scrutiny and profound grief. She has since gone on to found the award-winning widowed podcast Widowed AF, supporting others through honest conversations about life after loss.

Rosie said:

Ben had this way of making everyone feel seen. The kids adored him, Sunday mornings, silly dancing in the kitchen, all the small things that made our life ours. Our first Christmas without him was something I simply couldn’t bear. The build-up was unbearable. I went through the motions for the children but felt completely hollow. In the end I put a holiday to Cape Verde on a credit card and escaped. I couldn’t face the tree, the traditions, the expectations. It didn’t look like any Christmas we’d had before, but it was the only way we could survive it.

Over the years, the children and I have rebuilt slowly and gently. We’ve created our own kind of Christmas. We keep the bits that feel comforting, scrap the ones that hurt, light a candle for Ben and talk about him openly. It’s never perfect, but it’s ours.

My advice is simple, take the pressure off. Let Christmas be smaller. Say no. Accept help. And please know you’re not doing it wrong. Whatever you feel is valid. There will be light again, even if you can’t imagine it yet.

For more information about #WidowedAtChristmas, or to join The Widowed Collective for free, visit www.TheWidowedCollective.com, find The Widowed Collective on Facebook, or follow @TheWidowedCollective on Instagram.