Bess Strachan is Starts at 60’s Relationship expert
No one really prepares you for this version of love.
When your partner has dementia, the world quietly tilts. The person you chose, built a life with, argued with, laughed with, leaned on – they are still there, but also slowly slipping away. And while much is written about caring for someone with dementia, far less is said about what it takes to care for yourself when you are the partner left holding everything together.
Dementia does not just change the person diagnosed. It reshapes the relationship.
The good days – the ones where they recognise you, laugh at an old joke, reach for your hand – begin to thin out. In their place come the hard days. The days of confusion, anger, suspicion. The days when the person you love doesn’t know who you are, or worse, accuses you of things that cut deeply. Sometimes there is verbal abuse. Sometimes emotional withdrawal. Sometimes a cold look from the face that once felt like home.
And through all of it, you carry on.
You run the household. You manage the finances. You make the medical decisions. You remember the appointments, the medications, the conversations with specialists. You become the organiser, the protector, the buffer between your partner and a world that no longer makes sense to them.
It is exhausting in ways that are hard to explain.
Many partners feel guilty admitting this, but caring for someone with dementia can be profoundly lonely. You may still share a bed, a home, a history – but the companionship that once sustained you is fading. Grief arrives early and stays a long time. It is a grief that has no clear ending, no casseroles dropped at the door, no permission to fall apart.
If this is you, hear this clearly: your feelings are valid.
It is not selfish to feel tired, resentful, sad or overwhelmed. It is not unloving to miss the person your partner used to be. And it is not a failure to acknowledge that this role is taking a toll on your mental, emotional and physical health.
Looking after yourself does not mean you love them less. It means you are human.
Self-care in this context isn’t bubble baths or positive thinking. It is quieter and braver than that. It is allowing yourself to step outside the role of “carer” and remember that you are still a person with needs, limits and emotions of your own.
It might mean asking for help – even when you’ve always been the capable one. It might mean speaking honestly to a friend who can sit with your truth without trying to fix it. It might mean joining a support group where you don’t have to explain why you feel both devotion and despair in the same breath.
It also means letting go of impossible standards.
You will not get everything right. You will lose patience sometimes. You will grieve someone who is still alive. None of this makes you a bad partner. It makes you someone navigating an unbearably complex kind of love.
Most importantly, remember this: you matter too.
Your health, your wellbeing, your sense of self – these are not luxuries. They are essential. Dementia may be changing your partner, but it does not erase your right to rest, support and compassion.
You are doing something incredibly hard. And even on the days when it feels invisible, it is worthy of recognition, kindness – and care.
Especially from yourself.
IMPORTANT LEGAL INFO This article is of a general nature and FYI only, because it doesn’t take into account your personal health requirements or existing medical conditions. That means it’s not personalised health advice and shouldn’t be relied upon as if it is. Before making a health-related decision, you should work out if the info is appropriate for your situation and get professional medical advice.
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