To a certain extent, we all expect to experience grief when a beloved pet dies. It’s part of the deal, isn’t it? That our happy times together will eventually come to an end, resulting in a time of great sadness.
What many of us don’t expect is the loss of identity that can occur after a pet bereavement.
If you find yourself asking, “Who am I without my pet?” you’re not alone. Loss of identity is a surprisingly common response to a bereavement, a secondary loss can be deeply upsetting.
Why do some people experience a loss of identity when grieving?
Each human has a sense of self, of who we are as a person. Our identity is shaped by various internal and external influences – the people we know, our relationships, our society and culture and/or ethnicity, what gives us purpose, our interests and passions, our beliefs, our life experiences and so much more.
Being a pet carer is likely to be a significant part of your personal identity, of how you see yourself and your place in the world. Knowing this, it’s understandable that losing your pet may have impacted your sense of self.
Any kind of loss can shake things up. Suddenly, the world doesn’t look the same. When your pet was alive, you had a clear role in relation to them but now that role has gone (even if you have other pets to care for), who are you? How should you define yourself if it’s not as a pet parent, guardian or carer?
These can be difficult questions. Don’t feel you have to know the answers straight away.
Your relational identity
We all have what is known as a “relational identity” (in fact, we each have multiple relational identities, based on our many emotional connections). A relational identity is about how we see ourselves in relation to someone else.
For example, we might define ourselves as a spouse, daughter, son, sister, uncle, carer, and so on. In the same way, whatever words you use to define your relationship with your pet, the reality is that you loved them and they loved you and that shaped how you viewed yourself.
Your relational identity with your pet may have changed over time to reflect their age or changing needs. This evolution in your identity is still happening, even if you feel like you’ve lost who you are right now.
Another important factor in relational identity is the relationship we have with our wider community. This is really significant for pet carers because we often connect with like-minded people who live with similar pets. For example, your social life may have revolved around meeting other dog walkers or other horse carers at your horse’s stable. Perhaps you’re someone who enjoyed chatting online in pet-centric Facebook groups or on forums.
Without your pet, you might be finding it hard to define where you fit within these communities, which can have a knock-on effect on your identity.
Other forms of identity
We each have other forms of identity too. For example, we have a professional identity. If your pet was somehow involved in your working life – perhaps even just coming into the office with you – then losing them can shake up how you see yourself in a work context.
Equally, you may have a strong spiritual identity. Whether you believe in a specific faith or you simply see yourself as a spiritual person, dealing with a bereavement can often trigger a crisis of faith. As a pet carer, you may feel like there aren’t the same comfort or rituals for losing as pet as there would be for losing a person and that can cause some people to feel distanced from their spiritual communities.
Again, this can lead to a loss of identity.
And what of your financial identity or identity as a provider for your family, in which we include your pet? If you have had to pay a lot of vet bills recently, this may have been a source of stress and worry, as well as becoming part of your identity as a pet carer. What does it mean to your identity now these responsibilities have ended?
Even simple things like changes to your daily routine can affect how you see yourself, especially as a provider. Who are you if your day isn’t punctuated by walks, feeds, cleaning out, grooming, playing and spending time with your pet? These thoughts are all understandable.
Has your outlook been shaken by your pet’s death?
If someone were to ask you to describe your outlook on life, what would you say? Do you see yourself as optimistic, hopeful, someone who believes in the intrinsic good of other people and that life will usually turn out for the best?
Your pet loss may be challenging your world view, especially if the circumstances were sudden or traumatic. Again, this is to be expected. Give yourself time to process your loss.
How to find your identity after pet loss
For most people, the loss of identity after a bereavement is temporary, albeit distressing and something that can take time to address.
One of the most important things you can do to move forward is recognise that your identity won’t be exactly the same as it was when your pet was alive. In order to regain your sense of self, you will need to accept that you are a different person now because this loss is part of your life experience.
But different doesn’t mean bad or less than.
Hopefully, you can find meaningful ways to continue your bond with your pet. This ongoing connection can help you to integrate your identity as their guardian into your sense of self in a world without them.
Despite the loss that you’ve experienced, do know that there is hope for the future. You will find things in life, including new relationships, which bring to joy and contentment if you allow yourself to be open to them.
Try to give yourself the time and space to reflect on your loss – and this includes how it feels to have lost your identity. Some people find it helpful to write about their pet loss grief but you might find drawing, painting or sculpting therapeutic. What’s your favourite form of self-expression?
If you have someone you can talk to about your experiences, it’s important to reach out to them. They may not understand that you’re facing secondary losses such as changes to your daily routine, distance from your pet community or a loss of identity. People can often be incredibly helpful once they understand what you’re dealing with.
If you don’t have anyone in your immediate circle to talk to, a pet bereavement service (e.g. via an organisation like the Blue Cross) can help you to begin the journey of rebuilding your self-identity.
You will find yourself again
We really do understand how lost you might be feeling right now. Pet bereavement can challenge how we see ourselves and how we see our place in the world. Your pet offered unconditional love and companionship and losing this can rock your sense of self.
Just know that the person your pet loved so much is still part of you. The essence of who you are remains. But it also makes sense that your identity might be in a state of change and that you don’t yet have a clearly defined sense of who you are without your pet.
Try not to put yourself under any pressure. You will find yourself again.
Until then, know that you’re not alone.
Very best wishes from Shailen and The Ralph Site team
The Ralph Site, non-profit pet loss support
Thank you for this article. It has me believing that at some point in my life I will feel better in regards to making the decision to euthanize my beloved golden retriever, Scout .I had to put him down on April 5, 2022. He had a cough that would not clear in late March.. Only to find that his x rays and labs would show that his thorax, chest cavity, abdomen were riduled with Cancer. He would have turned 12 yrs .old yesterday, Heartbreak, as I was not prepared for the outcome of a cough to end in the decision I made for him a week and a half later! I deal with this on a daily basis.. I miss him so very much,, He truly was my very Best Friend!
View CommentThank you for this article. I lost my soul girl on July 21, 5 1/2 weeks ago, after a very rough year and a half with new onset epilepsy and severe respiratory compromise frequently after her seizure clusters. We thought we had fairly good control But in retrospect we really did not, and on her last day we had every hope that she was going to turn around and improve. She had had five seizures and needed to be on oxygen, but this has happened before with good result, she was starting to improve and then suddenly
View CommentDevelop severe respiratory compromise with apparently a combination of different problems including aspiration pneumonia and noncardiogenic pulmonary edema. We are heartbroken because we could not be there with her at the end, she took a sudden turn for the worse and we were a half an hour away and did not want to put her through the suffering of feeling like she was suffocating while waiting for us to get to her. This was very Trumatic for me, knowing that she had a terrible last day and that I could not be there. Our whole identities really had revolved around giving her love and care and 24 hour a day supervision for the past year and a half, she had just turned eight a few weeks before she died, and we had expected her to live to be much older, her Pomeranian stepbrother is 18, we thought we would at least have her until she was maybe 12 or 14, never thought she would die so young. I am also struggling with extreme guilt, because in hindsight there are decisions I would’ve made differently that might have given us more time with her, maybe another year if I had pushed her neurologist to increase her seizure medication after a severe cluster in May and another seizure in June. Before she died I felt like I was a very happy person, we had stress but life just started to go in a good direction in many areas, and now I feel like I’m a completely different person, an unhappy one, I don’t care about anything, I take no joy or pleasure and anything anymore. I know she would not want this. I have to find a way to create and embrace a new identity without her physical presence, but I don’t even want to really do that, this is terrible agony for me. I’m starting to get counseling so that I can try to figure out how to integrate this loss of her physical presence, honor who she was, which was an incredibly caring and giving little soul, and figure out how to use what she gave us to try to help others and make the world a better place. I don’t really see any other point in life right now and I’m going to try to focus on that.
I have been thinking about this exact experience of losing part of my identity since the loss of my dog a week ago. She was an Irish Wilfhound mix that I rescued 9 years ago. Her and I completed training to visit people in hospitals and nursing homes. This aligned with my retirement as a nurse. She was so beautiful, smart and loving that she was recruited to be in a ballet fund raiser called The Mutt Cracker Suite in Birmingham Alabama. She was also named as DoDah Days Queen and was in the lead car in a parade. I always knew she wouldn’t live much longer than 10 years old but made it to 11 in spite of lung cancer. No matter how you prepare, it’s this relationship identity loss you have articulated so well! Thank you
View CommentI lost my baby on Sunday 16th July from a snake bite. She was rushed to the vet with 2 other of our pets. They survived but my precious baby died. I’m so lost and feels that my heart will explode. I’ve never had a furr baby who was so attached to me and me with her. How do I get through this. I wasn’t with her when she passed she was in the hospital. What was she thinking, where’s my mommy. We didn’t hold her when she passed. On the 14th June we also lost out furry cat baby and that’s still so raw. I wish I was with them. We still have 6 furry babies how am I going to get through that when they pass.
View CommentI lost my cat Cookie one month ago, on June 22, 2023. We had her for 10 years, when she was diagnosed with hepatitis in November, 2021. Our vet was optimistic and said it could be turned around, and that some cats recover. With fluids & injections it kept her going. Eventually, she needed a regimen of medications to keep her going. She also had a mammary tumor removed in the middle of all of this. She bounced back against all odds. Then around mid April of this year, her appetite slowly began to decline. I still tried to stay positive, but by the end of May, things got worse. We went away the first week of June, so I left her at a cattery instead of using our regular pet sitter. I prayed while we were gone, that she’d be ok. I picked her up once we were back, and that’s when she declined even more. I miss her horribly, and feel so lost without her. The sad part is, I don’t think we really bonded until she became sick. She was my world. 😞💔
View CommentSadly, I can relate to all of your messages. I lost my sweet girl back in May. She was almost 15 and a half and developed liver nodules that were leading to liver failure. I had three weeks to say goodbye, but it just wasn’t enough time. Then, two weeks ago, I lost her baby brother as well. He would have been 15 this December. He was fine one day then had a seizure the next. The vet ruled everything out but a brain lesion. Three days later he kept having them, lost too much oxygen to his brain and had to be put down. It was so traumatizing. I had them both since they were puppies and they made my life complete. I was only 25 and still living in an apartment when I got Emma. Max came along a year later and we became a family. I’ve never been married and didn’t have kids. They were my kids. They were who I was, my whole identity. I was the dog mom who, when she wasn’t at work, stayed home with her babies because there was no one she wanted to be with more. Now my sweet loves are both in heaven and I don’t know who I am anymore. I want to give up – quit my job, sell the house and cars that I got simply to make them more comfortable, and just block out the world. I keep reading books and articles on coping with grief, but nothing seems to help. How do I keep going without them?
View CommentMy sweet buddy Bovine passed may 13, 2024 after almost 18 lovely years with him. Similar story re: brain lesion and having partial seizures throughout day. He had been diagnosed with idiopathic vestibular disease 5 days before after a vestibular event and 1 night in hospital so I was hopeful since that can have full recovery. Due to his age, they couldn’t do mri to check for lesions or anything in brain – it was a diagnosis of exclusion. He seemed to improve, until he didnt. Turns out, 5 days later, it was likely cancer/lesion, even then, that caused the vestibular event. I decided upon consultation with emergancy vet to euthanize even before anti-seizure administered – I could not stand to have him ‘awake’ to what was going on and suffer any longer. I regret that decision and question it to this day. He did pass in my arms with the assistance of euthanasia and I did feel like I had a moment of clarity with him where he gave goodbye kisses and we could say goodbye and I told him he could let go and I love him and would miss him so much and that i woukd not know how to get by without him but needed to end his suffering. The vet said it was the compassionate thing to do but why do I not feel like it. I don’t think that I’ll ever be happy again because bovine seemed to be my only source of true happiness and purpose. Anyways, day by day I guess. I do get signs from him often (never have seen so many robins in my life this last 1+ month and at such a close distance). I leave myself open to those signs and ask for them and he does not disappoint – so there’s that at least- it does bring some comfort. Writing like this helps some. There was a big heart that appeared on the ceiling from a normal cylindrical candle i light for him every night from the flame. Feels like I’ll never forgive myself for the decisions I made on that fateful day and I should have given him more of a chance to fight. Love you Bo and I miss you so much. Please keep on sending me signs.
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