When my husband Tom had a massive stroke and died, I expected to feel devastated. I expected to feel a rollercoaster of emotions – joy for the 12 years we had together, despair over never seeing him again, full-body laughter remembering how he took up knife sharpening as a hobby after his stroke, seemingly unending tears over my imperfections as a caregiver.

I expected some friends to drift away while others would surprise me with their unwavering presence, showing up with lasagnes and placing late-night phone calls when I needed them most. I was warned quickly about the maddening paperwork.

But nobody mentioned the fire I would feel in my loins less than two months later.

I remember exactly when it happened. I’d spent most of the day curled up on the couch with my phone, scrolling through photos of Tom and me together and bawling my eyes out. And then, with tears still running down my cheeks, I felt a pulsing, urgent need that seemed wildly inappropriate given the circumstances. And yet there it was: desire, burning through me with an intensity that left me breathless.

That feeling stayed with me for nearly a year. For a year, I was horny. All. The. Time.

It was as though my body had suddenly remembered it was alive while my heart was still learning how to beat on its own. The contrast was jarring. I’d spend hours sobbing while sorting through his things and then take a break to masturbate.

I didn’t want anyone in particular; I wanted anyone at all. I wanted the raw physical intimacy of sex, the primal sensation of skin on skin, and the feel of someone’s body heat melding with mine as we crawled inside each other.

My first reaction was shame – profound, all-consuming shame. How could my body do this to me? How could I feel sexual desire when the love of my life was gone? I felt like I was betraying him somehow, as if by acknowledging my own sexuality, I was erasing our love, our history. As if my body had forgotten what my heart couldn’t.

I didn’t have a framework for understanding what was happening. Intense horniness was not mentioned in any of the support group meetings I went to.

Luckily, my dog walker connected me with a widow around my age, who told me about the widow groups on Facebook. I joined several and learned that what I was experiencing had a name: widow’s fire. I also discovered it’s normal – completely, utterly normal – and it can affect people of any gender or sexual orientation.

Some people feel it within months, like I did. Others feel it a year later. Others never feel it.

What’s even more shocking than the fact that it’s totally normal for widows to be insanely horny is the silence around it. When I finally worked up the courage to mention it to my grief counsellor, her matter-of-fact response stunned me: “Oh yes, that’s quite common. Many widows experience that.”

Common? Many? Then how come the Facebook widows were the only ones talking about it?

There are biological reasons for this surge. Grief and sexual desire activate similar areas of the brain. Both involve intense emotion and physical sensation. Both represent a form of connection and release. There’s a biological imperative for connection when we’ve lost our primary attachment figure. The body seeks oxytocin, the pleasure chemical, to soothe the pain of loss.

There’s something almost primeval about it in the face of death, the body rebels by emphasising life. Sex is, after all, life-affirming in the most fundamental way.

Since experiencing this, I’ve learned that widow’s fire ignites indiscriminately across intimate histories – women who had passionate, frequent sex with their partners can find themselves feeling nothing, while those whose relationships had been physically dormant for years suddenly experience an overwhelming awakening of desire that seems to come from nowhere.

And it has nothing to do with age. I was 52 when I experienced widow’s fire, but I’ve spoken to widows who were in their 70s when they encountered it.

For some widows, this heightened desire manifests as a specific craving for physical touch not necessarily sexual, but the fundamental human need for skin contact that previously was satisfied daily through casual touches, hugs, or simply sharing a bed. For others, it’s more explicitly sexual – a physiological response to trauma, to stress, to the body’s need for the endorphin release that sexual activity provides.

When you’ve been part of a couple for years or decades, sexuality may have been expressed exclusively through that relationship. Suddenly, that avenue is gone, but the fundamental human need remains.

Two months after my husband’s death, I knew I had to do something to quell my craving, but I wasn’t ready to leave my house. Tom and I had always shared a sexually adventurous relationship, exploring various aspects of BDSM together throughout our marriage. I went to a kink website we had browsed and sometimes chatted with others about shared interests. Returning to it felt both comforting and strange, like revisiting a favourite restaurant but dining alone for the first time.

Eventually, I began exchanging messages with a man who lived three states away, someone who understood my need for both connection and distance. Our long-distance BDSM relationship became my first step into this new territory of grief and desire. The structured nature of it – the defined boundaries, the explicit communication, the psychological elements – provided a framework when everything else in my life felt structureless. The physical distance felt safe, allowing me to explore desire without the complication of actual physical intimacy before I was ready.

We talked on the phone and texted for several months. When I flew to meet him, I found him to be arrogant and unappealing in real life, and I ended things. However, my urge for touch continued, so I joined a dating app and began chatting with another man. Our weekend together still makes me smile, three days with someone who was absolutely, categorically wrong for me in every way except one: the chemistry was undeniable.

Our politics, temperaments, and what we wanted from life were diametrically opposed, but those 72 hours of passionate connection were profoundly healing. There was no pretense of a future, and no attempt to replace what I had lost. It was simply an affirmation that I was still capable of feeling, of desire, of pleasure – even in the midst of grief.

A few months later, when I felt open to something closer to an actual relationship, I knew my desperate lust might cloud my judgment about potential partners. A friend suggested I find a “friend with benefits” – someone I genuinely liked and respected, but with whom I shared no romantic future. This was unfamiliar territory for me, but again, the kink website delivered.

The arrangement was straightforward: companionship, physical connection, and no expectations beyond the present moment. It was exactly what I needed at that stage of my grief: a way to address my physical needs while giving myself the emotional space to navigate dating with greater clarity and presence.

I was selective about who I confided in during this period. My two closest friends knew everything, from my late-night loneliness to the details of my arrangements. They listened without judgment, occasionally checking in to ask if these encounters were helping or hurting my healing process. Two other friends, widows themselves, knew the broad strokes but not the specifics; I sensed they were uncomfortable with the idea of me seeking physical connection so soon after Tom’s death. Nobody else knew anything, but people regularly commented on my glow.

I didn’t have a roadmap for navigating this aspect of grief. Nobody had warned me, so I had to find my own way through research, through tentative conversations with other widows, through honest discussions with my therapist, and eventually, through my own experiences.

What I learned was that there’s no right way to handle widow’s fire. Some choose to channel that energy into physical activity or creative pursuits. Others explore self-pleasure as a way of reconnecting with their bodies. Some eventually pursue new relationships when they’re ready.

For all of us, though, it’s important to remember that grief isn’t linear. It can coexist with other feelings, even seemingly contradictory ones like desire. The heart is complex enough to hold both reverence for what’s lost and acknowledgment of continuing needs.

Grief and healing aren’t mutually exclusive. This was perhaps the most profound realisation in my journey that I could simultaneously miss my husband desperately and acknowledge my body’s continuing needs. But this understanding didn’t come easily.

For the first year after Tom died, I felt like I was cheating on him whenever I experienced desire, even though before his death, he had explicitly told me he wanted me to find love again and understood that would include physical intimacy. Despite his blessing, I felt ashamed, even slutty, for wanting to touch so soon, as if my physical longing dishonoured his memory.

The breakthrough came from an unexpected source. My friend with benefits, observing my internal conflict, simply said, “Of course, your body wants sex.” Those six words shifted something fundamental in my understanding. He wasn’t widowed, but somehow he grasped what I couldn’t yet see: my body’s needs weren’t in conflict with my grief, but existed alongside it, neither diminishing nor replacing my loss. My physical desires weren’t betraying my love for Tom; they were affirming that I was still alive, still human, still whole even while broken.

There’s something revolutionary about recognising that widowhood doesn’t require denying one’s sexuality, that honouring a lost love doesn’t mean living as if you too have died.

Each of my encounters taught me something different about the healing process. The long-distance relationship showed me I could be vulnerable again. My wild weekend reminded me that spontaneity and joy were still possible, and that passion was still available to me. The friend with benefits taught me that physical connection could exist without replacing the emotional bond I had with my husband.

Eventually, widow’s fire subsides, or at least becomes manageable. For me, it lasted about a year before settling into something less urgent and less all-consuming.

What remained was a recognition that I was still fully human with all the complex needs and desires that entail. I learned that healing includes reclaiming all parts of oneself, even those that seem at odds with grief. I discovered that there’s no contradiction in honouring what was lost while also honouring what remains: a body and spirit that continue to seek connection, pleasure, and life.

I write this now, years later, wishing someone had told me all of this then, wishing I hadn’t felt so alone, so confused, so ashamed of a perfectly natural response.

If you’re a new widow experiencing this, I want you to know you’re not alone. You’re not betraying your spouse. You’re not grieving “wrong.” Your body is responding to loss in one of the many complex ways humans respond to trauma and change.

And if you’re supporting someone through grief, understand that bereavement encompasses more than tears. It includes navigating identity, physicality, and yes, sexuality, in a new context.

Healing doesn’t mean forgetting or replacing. It means integrating the loss into a life that continues, a life that still contains joy, desire and connection.

Elizabeth Kleinfeld is a writer, professor, and end-of-life doula living in Denver, Colorado. She is writing a memoir about being her husband’s caregiver for the year before he died. Her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, and she was named a best emerging writer by Masters Review. She blogs about grief and disability at https://elizabethkleinfeld.substack.com/.

This piece was previously published on HuffPost and is being shared again now as part of HuffPost Personal’s “Best Of” series.

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With the autumn months approaching, we’re reaching that point of the year when some of our favourite shows, from Strictly Come Dancing and the Great British Bake Off to Drag Race UK, all start returning to our screens.

But September has some promising new and returning shows coming to Netflix, too.

After two years away, one of the biggest hits in recent years, The Gentlemen, is finally back for new episodes, while Ryan Murphy’s always-controversial Monster anthology series is taking a very different approach with its latest offering.

Then, there’s a new binge-worthy reality show to sink your teeth into, as well as a feature-length outing for one of the 2020s’ biggest TV comedies and, Netflix being Netflix, plenty of true crime to get streaming, too.

Here are just nine of the shows and films we’ll be streaming in the coming weeks…

Tell me more: Australian break dancer Rachael Gunn, better known to her followers as Raygun, accidentally became one of the 2020s’ most talked-about Olympians when she made her debut in Paris and went viral for all the wrong reasons.

Looking back two years on, this documentary gives Rachael the chance to tell the story of her rise to infamy in her own words, not just looking back at the lighter moments of her meme-worthy performance, but the more serious allegations, misinformation and outright abuse that followed it.

Netflix says: “Nobody, least of all Rachael Gunn, expected to be an Olympian. But as Raygun’s performance at the 2024 Paris Olympics went viral overnight, so did an avalanche of memes, misinformation and conspiracy theories questioning how she ever got there.”

Tell me more: Netflix might have kept fans waiting two years for the next instalment in Guy Ritchie’s unhinged crime drama, but if the early reviews are anything to go by, it was worth the wait.

Once again, Theo James and Kaya Scodelario are leading the star-studded cast that includes returning faces like Vinnie Jones, Ray Winstone and Giancarlo Esposito, as well as some intriguing new additions including Love Island host Maya Jama and Downton Abbey’s Hugh Bonneville.

Excitingly, much of the action this time around takes place in Italy, as Eddie and Susan’s work takes them even deeper into the criminal underworld.

Netflix says: “It’s been one year since Eddie and Susie joined forces to work together in Bobby’s criminal empire overseas. As they drive to expand their enterprise, the decisions Bobby is making seem to be increasingly unsound.

“Now Eddie and Susie must decide whether to take action or risk losing it all, but unfettered ambition never ends well…”

Tell me more: Alright, remember a couple of weeks ago when Donald Trump ducked out of Air Force One in a catering truck to quietly board another plane, leaving behind the secret service, the plane’s crew and his own staff.

Well, this one-off documentary is looking into exactly what that was all about, and what actually went on…

Netflix says: “This July, while flying back from a NATO summit in Turkey, President Trump slipped off Air Force One in a catering truck and secretly boarded a different aircraft – leaving traveling reporters to fly on, unaware the president was no longer with them.

“Instadocs: The Decoy Plane unpacks the incident through firsthand accounts from members of the press corps who were aboard Air Force One as well as a former Secret Service agent and a former Air Force One crew member.”

Tell me more: The latest offering to come from Tyler Perry’s Netflix deal is a new instalment in his Why Did I Get Married? series.

Almost 20 years on from the original film, the gang are back together to prepare for one of the couple’s nuptials, which naturally begins to raise questions among them about relationships, marriage and how far an apple ever falls from the tree.

Joining Tyler in the film are returning faces like Jill Scott and Richard T Jones (though, sadly, pop superstar Janet Jackson does not appear due to a scheduling conflict).

Netflix says: “In Tyler Perry’s Why Did I Get Married Again?, the couples reunite in celebration as Marcus and Angela’s daughter prepares to tie the knot.

“After being apart for quite some time, they learn quickly that as much as things change, they stay the same. Realising their children have grown up to be so much like them, they must reflect on the examples they’ve set and ask themselves that age-old question, why did they get married… again?”

Tell me more: Originally a hit among viewers in France, the French-language comedy Call My Agent! became an international hit when its final season premiered at a time when much of the world was in lockdown.

As the title suggests, the satirical showbiz series centres around a hapless pair of agents and their struggles to satisfy their many famous clients, with this new movie instalment picking up six years later.

This time around, the action takes us out of the agents’ offices and into the wider world, sending up the entire movie industry as Andréa takes a big leap into directing – which proves every bit as chaotic as fans might expect.

Netflix says: “Five years after the agency closed its doors, Andréa is finally ready to direct her first feature film.

“When her lead actor quits and she falls out with her producer, she joins forces with Noémie – now a reality TV producer – believing she can easily manipulate her. But as she faces a complete recasting, on-set disasters, and a legal battle threatening the custody of her daughter, everything begins to unravel.

“One by one, the former ASK colleagues converge on this high-tension film set. Each arrives with their own role, their ego, and a fair share of old grudges – little do they know what this reunion truly has in store for them.”

Tell me more: OK, we’re going to be honest. Between the grisly and graphic violence and so many controversies casting such a long shadow over everything, Ryan Murphy’s Monster has never really been a project we’ve had much interest in sitting through – but with its latest iteration, he’s finally piqued our interest.

Much has already been made of the fact that season four centres around the “first female monster”, with Ella Beatty taking on the role of the acquitted axe murder suspect Lizzie Borden, but it’s also the first to take place so far in the past – with its period setting being one of the biggest draws.

Then, of course, there’s the cast, with Ella being joined by Rebecca Hall, Vicky Krieps and, in his return to Monster, Charlie Hunnam – and Sarah Paulson also set to appear as Aileen Wuornos in one of the show’s most intriguing casting decisions to date.

Netflix says: “Lizzie Borden took an axe… The first female monster from Ryan Murphy’s famed anthology series.”

Tell me more: One for fans of Squid Game: The Challenge, Netflix’s new competition series brings Willy Wonka’s factory to life, with contestants being put through a series of bizarre games and challenges befitting of the iconic chocolatier.

Although the show looks to be as much of a visual feast as you’d imagine, Wonka’s The Golden Ticket has already left something of a sour taste for some, over its use of an AI-generated rendering of the late Gene Wilder’s voice to “host” the games.

Netflix says: “Twelve lucky Golden Ticket winners, each with a partner of their choosing, will step through the gates of Wonka’s Chocolate Factory and into a world of pure imagination, delicious mischief, and unexpected challenges.

“Once inside, contestants must navigate a series of Wonka’s games, tests, and temptations designed to challenge them physically, mentally, and morally.

“In this high-stakes social experiment, players will journey through the factory’s wondrous and unpredictable landscape, adapting, strategizing, and withstanding the unknown while proving they have the instincts, resilience, and character to thrive in chaos. In the end, only one contestant will have what it takes to earn Wonka’s life-changing prize.”

Tell me more: Just so we’ve got this clear… this is a Lego reimagining of a Netflix live-action series, inspired by the anime, which itself was adapted from the manga.

Convoluted though it may sound, anyone who has been gripped by the Straw Hats’ swashbuckling adventures will probably get a kick out of this two-part miniseries, which has rendered the story you already know in Lego form.

Netflix says: “Get ready to set sail! In this two-part animated Lego special, Usopp, the Straw Hats’ most reliably unreliable narrator, regales Chopper with the crew’s escapades across the East Blue and into the Grand Line, prior to him joining them in Drum Island. Usopp only tells the tallest of tales, and this action packed special is no different!”

Tell me more: Over the last few years, Netflix has become synonymous with its true crime offerings, and whether you find them gripping, weirdly intriguing, distasteful or a complete turn-off, the service is ending the month with another one.

In this new offering, The Widower: ’Til Death Do Us Part, a detective and investigative journalist team up to get to the bottom of a story involving a Las Vegas man who has been married six times, four of which ended in his wife dying in mysterious circumstances.

Netflix says: “In this documentary, a journalist and a detective uncover the truth about a killer whose charm masked a trail of failed marriages and suspicious deaths.”

After a two-year absence from our screens, Netflix is inviting audiences back into the loud, brash and bloody world of The Gentlemen.

Inspired by the 2019 Guy Ritchie film of the same name, the well-received second season of The Gentlemen sees power players like Theo James’ Eddie, Kaya Scodelario’s Susie and Ray Winstone’s Bobby returning, alongside a host of new stars, as their criminal empire expands to Italy.

As well as recruiting some huge acting talent for season two, the casting team has cast a wide net, plucking some of the biggest talents from the world of sport, reality TV and beyond to play characters in the new run of episodes.

Here’s our guide to who has joined The Gentlemen this season – and where you may have seen these newbies before…

Hugh Bonneville is a new addition to the cast of The Gentlemen as Lord Hawthorne, a well-connected member of the House of Lords.

It’s an uncharacteristically evil role for an actor best known for playing the lovable Henry Brown in the Paddington movies and Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham, in Downton Abbey.

You may also recognise Hugh from BBC comedies Twenty Twelve and W1A, in which he appeared as the haphazard Head of the Olympic Deliverance Commission – and later the Head of Values at the BBC – Ian Fletcher.

His other recent TV credits include the BBC crime drama The Gold, the Steven Moffat satire Douglas Is Cancelled and the Paramount+ spy thriller The Agency.

On film, one of Hugh’s early big-screen roles came when he played Bernie in Notting Hill, with other credits including playing a young John Bayley in Iris, starring in George Clooney’s The Monuments Men and the biopic Bank Of Dave.

Having originally shot to fame working for MTV and BBC Radio 1, Maya has previously hosted the Brit Awards, The Circle, Glow Up and Comic Relief, as well as serving as a judge on The Masked Singer.

The Gentlemen has repeatedly been mentioned in the press as Maya’s acting debut, but she previously played a role in Katherine Ryan’s ill-fated Netflix comedy The Duchess.

You can next see her joining the likes of Bella Ramsey, Miranda Hart and Richard E. Grant on the next season of The Celebrity Traitors.

As Eddie and Susie expand their operation into Northern Italy in season two, they encounter members of the mafia.

Within the show, the head of this Italian operation is Marco Maldini, played by Sergio Castellitto, best known for playing the iconic vaping Cardinal Tedesco in Conclave.

A prolific actor in Italy, Sergio reached international audiences after appearing in 2008’s The Chronicles Of Narnia: Prince Caspian as the villainous King Miraz.

His other film credits include the Italian-language My Mother’s Smile, Don’t Move and Twice Born.

Actor and model Michele Morrone plays another member of the mafia in The Gentlemen, and you’ll likely recognise him for playing Massimo Torricelli in the 2020 controversial erotic thriller 365 Days, and its sequels.

He also appeared in Another Simple Favor as Blake Lively’s character Emily’s fiancé, Dante, and last year co-starred with Amanda Seyfried and Sydney Sweeney in the hit thriller The Housemaid, playing groundskeeper Enzo.

Benedetta Porcaroli plays orphaned Italian aristocrat Bella in the Netflix series, one of her many credits with the streamer.

She drew international attention for playing Chiara in the teen sex work drama Baby, before appearing in the platform’s period drama The Leopard.

Her most high-profile credit came in 2024, when she starred alongside Sydney Sweeney in the religious horror Immaculate.

Benedetta’s other credits include the Italian coming-of-age drama Amanda, the 2022 romance The Hummingbird and, more recently, The Kidnapping Of Arabella, which co-starred Chris Pine.

Benjamin Clementine, who plays Charly’s partner Nanny, is best known as a celebrated singer-songwriter, rather than actor.

In 2015, his debut album At Least For Now won the Mercury Prize, and was also hailed by numerous critics as one of the best albums of the year.

Meanwhile, he’s performed his songs Cornerstone, Nemesis and God Save The Jungle on Later… With Jools Holland and The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon.

As an actor, he had a small, but memorable, role as Herald of the Change in Dune, delivering the decree which gave House Atreides control of Arrakis.

He later appeared in Steve McQueen’s Blitz as an air raid warden, and In The Hand of Dante, in which he also provided the music, as Mephistopheles.

Boxer Chris Eubank Jr. makes his acting debut in the series, playing Organ John.

His role as a “lethal boxer and an enforcer” isn’t too far from his day-to-day life as a middleweight and super-middleweight boxing champion.

The son of world champion boxer – and noted monocle-wearer – Chris Eubank, he has won 35 of the 39 professional fights he’s taken part in.

No stranger to the entertainment world, either, last year he starred in the documentary The Eubanks: Like Father, Like Son for the BBC, and appeared alongside his eccentric father on Celebrity Gogglebox.

Both seasons of The Gentlemen are now streaming on Netflix.

Wallace And Gromit is a true British institution, not to mention a family favourite in homes up and down the country.

More than 30 years after we were first introduced to the duo, it’s now hard to imagine the beloved claymation franchise being about anything other than an eccentric inventor and his trusty dog.

However, creator Nick Park has revealed that his original plans for the iconic duo were very different.

Speaking to the BBC on Aardman Studio’s 50th anniversary, Nick spilled some secrets about making the British staple – one surprising fact he dropped being that Gromit was not always a dog.

“I had this idea of an English guy who builds a rocket, in the basement of his house,” Nick recalled. “I was thinking he may have a pet, probably a cat.”

Ultimately, there was one key reason Gromit ultimately wasn’t a feline.

“I started modelling the cat, and it was just very difficult,” he admitted. “So, I thought I’d do a dog instead!”

But it’s not just Gromit, who started life looking and sounding very different.

Sean Clarke, Aardman’s managing director, also told the broadcaster that Shaun the Sheep almost had a very different characteristic.

The silent comedic character from Wallace And Gromit – not to mention his own spin-off – was nearly given a speaking voice.

“When we launched the Shaun the Sheep series, we were told to add voices,” Sean remembered.

The same argument resurfaced years later, when Shaun landed his own feature film in 2015.

“They said, ‘You can’t do 80 minutes without any dialogue,’” Sean explained, but insisted that he and his team stuck to their guns.

By doing so, they helped cement Shaun’s spot as one of Aardman’s most successful characters, with the legendary sheep later appearing in 170 countries.

“Wallace and Gromit built the house, but Shaun keeps the lights on,” Sean joked.

Aardman is celebrating five decades of making film and TV.

Back in 2023, the stop-motion studio found itself at the centre of a report in The Telegraph alleging that it was in crisis, after its favoured clay supplier had gone out of business.

Luckily, this report turned out to be inaccurate and “much like Wallace in his workshop”, they had “been tinkering away behind the scenes” to continue making their iconic characters from clay.