As Samantha* sat, surrounded by her family who showed up to offer their condolences, her cell phone buzzed. Assuming it was another friend reaching out upon hearing her devastating news, she picked up the phone to reply with the lines that had now become routine, “Thanks. No, I don’t need you to come by. My family is here with me”.

She didn’t recognize the number but assumed it was one of her husband’s buddies contacting her to confirm whether or not the rumors were true. Was he really dead?

As she opened the message, the words took her breath away:

“You don’t know me but I knew your husband. I know he was married and I shouldn’t have fallen in love but we were very much in love. I know he loved you and spoke very highly of you. He wanted to be with me but wasn’t sure how to leave you and the children. I’m so sorry for telling you like this but I wanted you to know.”

Did she really read the message correctly? Was this woman talking about her husband? The one who hadn’t yet made it to the morgue following a tragic accident? Surely, this crazed woman was out of her mind. She was the love of husband’s life. They were happy…at least she thought he was.

Over the next few months, after the initial shock of her husband’s death wore off, Samantha found she was left with a raw, overwhelming emotion: ANGER.

She felt betrayed by the person with whom she exchanged vows. The person who made a promise before God to forsake all others had violated her trust in the most hurtful of ways and was no longer alive to “fix” the situation and take away the hurt.

While Samantha went through the motions of grieving widow, missing her other half and mourning what could have been, she was also furious with her husband.

It wasn’t until she found others in the Young, Widowed & Dating support group with similar experiences that she realized that she was not alone in dealing with these conflicting emotions.

Fellow group member Addison* said she learned some “not so happy” things about her husband when he passed away nearly two years ago.

“Let’s just say what we do in secret comes to light,” she said. “My grieving process was rather complicated. I was grieving him as well as a broken heart for other reasons.”

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She found her husband had been communicating with other women and even two weeks prior to his death had joined an online dating website.

Addison said her husband’s betrayal left her embarrassed and for a while following his death she wanted to rebel and “get even”.

“I spun out of control,” she confessed. “I fell into a dark depression. I entertained conversations with people who I knew were no good for me. I wasn’t into them but they made me feel good at the time. I just wanted to ditch my pain.”

It took over a year for Addison to release the hurt and forgive her husband. One day while on the phone, her mom told her she had every right to express the emotions she was experiencing and that she shouldn’t feel guilty for acknowledging these feelings.

“It was then that I made myself face the things my hubby had done to hurt me. That was the only way to get through it,” she said. “Running from it or covering it up – like he had done – was disastrous. I eventually gave myself permission to cry, pout or do whatever I needed to do. I had to feel those emotions. At times I felt I was reopening a wound but I realized it was not healing; it was only festering.”

It took her confronting one of the women involved with her husband and countless conversations with family, friends and mental health professionals to begin to feel “normal” again.

“It hit me that these issues were his, not mine,” said Addison. “I love him for what he was to me and I pray he finds peace with God because I definitely want to see him again. That’s how I know I have forgiven him with all sincerity.”

Lisbeth*, also a member of the Young, Widowed & Dating group, feels a special connection to Samantha and Addison. She, too, was left reeling from a spouse’s infidelity.

“My husband was never really faithful to me throughout our five year marriage, but because of my background—abusive home life, foster care—I was made to feel that it was a privilege to be married to him. My mother-in-law as well as many clergy would use God to manipulate me into staying with him by saying, ‘You’re not praying enough’ or ‘If you were more spiritual he would act better’,” she said. “The last straw was when I found out he had been bringing a woman to our home and sleeping with her in our bed. For some reason that was my boundary and I told him I was leaving.”

Not only was Lisbeth’s husband cheating, he was also emotionally and physically abusive. When she told him she could not accept his behavior, he attempted to kill her and their kids before ultimately taking his own life in front of her.

Lisbeth uncovered even more transgressions following his death. She said she mourned the good person and the not so good person at the same time, in what her therapist called “complex complicated grief”.

“That was the hardest part for me and my children…grieving this person that we loved deeply but at the same time trying to handle the pain of the circumstances surrounding his death and the things that went on before and after,” she explained. “My children not only had to deal with the fact that their father wanted to take their lives but also that this the same father who they loved.”

Lisbeth feels she made peace with her husband and his abuse even prior to his death.

“I began to see him as a broken man who really didn’t like himself and was projecting that on me,” she said. “After he died, I felt he was finally free from the prison of his own mind. The manner in which he took his life made me feel compassion even though he intended to hurt me also.”

One day at her therapist’s office, Lisbeth saw the lady who her husband had been sleeping with. She started hyperventilating and had to go outside. In that moment, she realized she could not be angry with the other woman.

“I figured if she was there, then she must be carrying guilt too,” added Lisbeth. “I had to forgive her. Life’s too short to hold onto anger, especially if it’s directed at someone who isn’t even here anymore. I no longer wanted to give anyone that power over me anymore. I refuse to be a walking tombstone. I have to continue living my life.”

* Names changed to protect members’ privacy

Mom to a feisty preschooler, Kerry Phillips became widowed at age 32. She runs an online support group for young widows and widowers venturing back into the world of dating and is a blogger for The Huffington Post.