First Responder Widow, Advocate, Clinician
By Suzz Sandalwood | How the integration of personal experience and professional care creates a deeper sense of trust in First Responder Communities
Written by Suzz Sandalwood | Seeking Veritas Columnist | Sankarsingh-Gonsalves Productions
“Do you have experience working with first responders?”
The interview was going well until that question. I hadn’t seen it coming. The job posting had made no mention of first responders, only experience in mental health and counselling support and yet here I was, sitting across from two interviewers waiting for my answer. I hesitated, not because I didn’t know what to say, but because I wasn’t sure how much to say. For the past 15 years, I had been immersed in first responder culture; not as a professional, but as a first responder family. My late husband was a first responder, and when he got sick, I stepped away from my own career to care for him. Fifteen months of 24/7 caregiving during the pandemic, in isolation. Then his death. Then the aftermath. It had been almost three years since it all began and I had not worked.
Intersection of loss and experience
When I was ready to integrate back into the working world again, I sent out nearly 100 applications for jobs. Not one interview. Maybe it was the gap on my resume. Maybe it was the aftermath of the pandemic. I had long been used to being told how impressive my resume was but I felt uncertain in that moment. Either way, I felt like I had become invisible in the job market.
I answered the question honestly. I told them I was a widow of a first responder and that I knew this world intimately, not just the weight of the job, but the way it follows you home and how it settles into your identity, both as a first responder and as a spouse. It can change people. They nodded in agreement. One offered condolences. They told me this job was for their Encompas first responder program and explained that it would be supporting OPPA (Ontario Provincial Police Association) members and their families. A few days later, I was offered the job.
Stepping into my new agency role, I saw opportunity; one that would allow me to bring together both my years of experience as a Counsellor and my deep personal understanding of first responder culture. This wasn’t just a job; it was a chance to do something meaningful in my life that had felt like it lost so much meaning. To bridge the gap between personal experience and clinical insight in a way that might actually make a difference was something I was looking forward to.
New story chapter, same family
My introduction to my first two coworkers made it clear right away that this job would be something special. One was a former OPP Officer, the other a former Communications Operator and I immediately felt that familiar feeling of first responder family. They too had carried with them their personal and professional experiences from the first responder world into this job. I would soon learn that the team I’d be working with was intentionally built this way, bringing together a diverse mix of professionals with backgrounds in mental health, nursing, emergency services, and frontline work. Not all, but many had personal or professional ties to the first responder world, creating an environment where experience wasn’t just valued, it was foundational.
We know that trust is the backbone of any effective support system, but in the first responder world, it carries even more weight. Seeking help isn’t just a personal decision, it’s a cultural challenge. This is why traditional mental health frameworks often fall short. No matter how skilled or well-intentioned a professional may be, if they don’t understand the world first responders live in, their support can feel out of reach. These connections can break isolation and offer a sense of validation that no amount of clinical training alone can provide.
As mentioned in my previous article, personal experience on its own, isn’t always enough. Trauma, operational stress, and burnout require more than just understanding. They require tools, strategies, and clinical insight that peer support alone can’t offer. That’s why integration matters. Sometimes the most effective mental health support for first responders doesn’t always separate peer and professional support, it weaves them together. Does that mean that someone who does not have personal ties to the first responder community cannot adequately support someone who is a first responder or family member? No, but we know that the value in having that connection or additional training in first responder cultural specific support can make a difference for them. This is true for many experiences in life and the reason addiction treatment centres are often staffed with recovered individuals who have known addiction themselves.
Far too often, people assume that if support services exist, first responders and their families will automatically use them. But the reality is far more complicated. Their willingness to seek help is shaped by a deeply rooted sense of identity and culture, often tied to terminal uniqueness; the belief that their experiences are so distinct that traditional resources may not fully apply to them. While there is important work to be done in shifting these narratives and expanding how identity is understood within this community, our immediate priority must be meeting people where they are at. That means recognizing that first responders and their families don’t simply access support like everyone else. They assess it through a lens shaped by a profession built on high stress, self-reliance, and an unspoken expectation of resilience. If we fail to understand this, even the best-intended services will remain out of reach for those who need them most.
More than just experience
Sitting in that interview, faced with a question I hadn’t expected, there was a split second where I considered keeping my answer brief, sticking to the professional side of things. But that wasn’t the whole truth. The reality was that both my personal and professional experiences have shaped the way I understand this work in first responder mental health. They weren’t separate; they informed each other. After everything, the loss, the aftermath, the struggle to find my place again, this was a space where both parts of my past experiences could coexist and serve a purpose. I realized that even the most unexpected paths can lead to a place where our past can make an impact in some way. As David Kessler said during his TED Talk, “Meaning is not in the loss; it’s in what we do after.”
It’s been over two years since I was interviewed for that job. What began as an unexpected question in an interview has since become a pivotal part of my life, a chance to be part of the movement that humanizes the experiences of first responders and their families while challenging the entrenched culture that often demands silent suffering. It has been a reminder that even in the hardest times, when it feels like everything is falling apart, we can find a way to use what we've been through to make a real difference for others.
Next week in 911 community
Understanding the Unique Challenges of First Responder Spouses: A Case Study
Next week I will introduce you to Lisa who is married to a first responder. Though this case study is a composite of various common real-life stories, not an actual individual’s account, we will take an in-depth look at the familiar experiences of a first responder spouse, who is often the unsung hero but struggling in silence.
About the Author: Suzz Sandalwood is an RSW/MSW Therapist, Advanced Certified Clinical Trauma and Addiction Specialist and a Certified Grief Counsellor. She has extensive professional and personal experience in first responder, addiction, and grief communities. | Connect with the author: https://suzzsandalwood.com
