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I don’t know Amanda Lee personally. (To be transparent, I’ve never watched her show or taken any classes from her.) Nevertheless, I feel like I understand her. I know that the moment her husband, the father of her child, passed away due to COVID-19 last summer, her world was turned upside down. I recognize that his death rearranged everything she thought she understood about life, leaving her in a haze of grief. I know that she feels his absence every single day, in both profound and subtle ways.
I relate to Amanda because we share the same painful experience. Both of us are young widows, navigating a world that feels foreign and lonely. We’ve both had to adapt to sleeping in a bed meant for two, dining at a table with an empty chair, and facing a closet filled with clothes belonging to someone who will never return. We are learning to live, parent, and embrace our new identities as individuals rather than as part of a couple.
As a fellow young widow, I find myself feeling protective of Amanda Lee. Recently, she revealed that she has started dating again, and, predictably, opinions began to flood in — some supportive, others critical. One comment that caught her attention labeled her decision to date as “quick.” The remark, “That was fast,” resonated with me and likely struck a chord with widows and widowers everywhere.
After experiencing my own loss, I began dating about two years later, but I kept it secret for the first six months. I feared judgment, worried that people would criticize me for either waiting too long or not long enough. I was afraid that dating would be seen as a sign that my grief had ended, when in reality, it never truly does. My grief evolves but remains intertwined with my love. Part of me even felt undeserving of happiness, worried that others might think I was moving on too soon.
Eventually, I learned to be honest about my dating life, realizing that the only person I needed to answer to was myself. The only person I had to please was me (and my kids). To Amanda’s critics, and to any widow facing scrutiny, I would say: No, we do not owe you an explanation for our choices. Until you’ve walked in our shoes, you have no right to judge. Until you understand what it feels like to breathe when your spouse, best friend, co-parent, and partner is absent, you cannot sit in judgment.
Even among widows, there is no room for judgment of one another’s choices. We share a tragic bond, but our lives before our losses were different, which means our paths after loss will also diverge. When a widow decides to date, the only appropriate response should be: I support you. I stand by your pursuit of happiness. It takes immense courage to let go of a shared future and take steps toward a new one.
Those of us in the widow community did not choose this path. Every widow, whether they choose to date soon after their spouse’s passing or decide to remain single, deserves compassion. We’ve faced unimaginable hardships and often judge ourselves more harshly than anyone else ever could. What we truly need is understanding and support. Amanda Lee should have received encouragement when she announced her new relationship, not judgment.
She addressed the scrutiny in her Instagram stories and later during a live session, highlighting the constant judgment widows endure when they make choices about their lives. She acknowledged the difficulty of finding the courage to date, stressing that she will always miss her husband, regardless of new love. No widow should have to defend herself at all.
Loss is loss. Every type of loss is challenging, but losing a spouse is a unique kind of grief. It reshapes your entire existence, especially when children are involved. Therefore, when a widow musters the strength to date, live independently, or even achieve the small task of getting out of bed, the response should simply be: You are loved and supported.