In an exclusive conversation, the dancer discusses how she’s coping — and finding new purpose — four months after losing her spouse by assisting others who are battling silently.
Allison Holker Boss misses the simple times she shared with her late husband, Stephen “tWitch” Boss.
They’d often gather in the kitchen after a long day at work to cook dinner together. “Stephen would hold my back every time I walked past him,” she says in this week’s issue of Read this story.
Then, at the dinner table, “we’d have so many random conversations, and there was so much laughter,” the dancer and TV host continues. “Our love was both genuine and audible. We used to tell people that our home was like a choreographed ballet.”
The famous Ellen DeGeneres Show deejay turned executive producer died by himself on December 13 at the age of 40, shocking fans and leaving loved ones in shock.
“No one had any idea he was low.” “He didn’t want people to know,” Allison, 35, explains in her first interview since her husband died. “He just wanted to be Superman and everyone’s protector.”
She’s been struggling for months to reconcile the “beautiful” life they established together with the pain she understands he must have faced alone.
“It’s been really difficult because I don’t understand what happened in that moment [he died],” says Allison, who met Stephen in 2010 as All-Stars on Fox’s competition series So You Think You Can Dance. (Three years later, when they married, Stephen adopted Allison’s daughter from a prior relationship, Weslie.)
She is still dealing with a “complex” web of emotions, including sorrow, disappointment, love, and fury. But she’s driven by a sense of purpose as she strives for peace.
“Stephen brought so much joy to this world, and he deserves to be remembered as the beautiful man he was,” she says.
She established the Move with Kindness Foundation in his honor earlier this year to assist mental health projects. “We are usually told to’reach out to the strongest individuals,’ and I believe that. But I also want the message to be that it’s alright to lean on someone else if you’re feeling down or depressed,” she continues. “Believe that even in your darkest moments, people will see you as that light.”
Allison and Stephen had worked together to bring hope and positivity via their work. “To be honest, I was really confused about what my new purpose was going to be when this happened,” she adds.
“Then I actually spoke to my friend, Andy Grammer, and I expressed to him, ‘How am I still going to live out what I know is my purpose — love and joy — and has always been my family’s purpose?’” she remembers. “‘Allison, it’s still your purpose,’ he added. It just looks a little different now, and it has a little more depth to it.’ I’ll never forget that talk because I felt like I knew it deep down, but hearing it from a friend that I still have that purpose is also helping me move forward.”
“I’ve had so many people — specifically men — reaching out to me, [saying] how they were so affected because they didn’t realize how much they were holding on to and not expressing,” she adds since Stephen’s death. “I found that to be a lot to hold onto at first, but then I realized I want people to feel safe talking to me, to open up, and to understand that we have to support each other in these moments.”
“I could allow myself to go to a really dark place right now, and that would be valid and fine,” she continues. “However, I want to go a different route for myself and the kids.”
Allison’s trauma appeared physically in the weeks following Stephen’s death. “You’re trying to help yourself, your children, your friends, and your family, and it took its toll,” she adds. “It was literally becoming increasingly difficult to get out of bed in the morning.”
She started cold-plunging at night to assist her body release the crushing stress. “It’s now part of my daily practice,” she explains. “It’s also helped me spiritually and mentally.”
Allison and her children have developed a new dynamic as a result of the loss of their family’s backbone, one based on open communication.
“I’m trying to teach them — and myself — that being angry or sad doesn’t automatically make you a bad person,” she says. “We’re coping together, which necessitates trust and being extremely vulnerable.”
“We rely heavily on each other for support because every day brings a new set of emotions.” And, to be honest, not even day by day. It is done moment by moment. “You never know when something will trigger a memory or a thought and cause you to go into your head a little bit,” she continues. “We want to be okay — and we are okay — but it takes a lot of teamwork.”
Allison has left Stephen’s belongings intact in their home, which remains a sanctuary. “He was such a family man, and there’s so much of his love in this house,” she explains. “He brought a lot of love into the world.” He did it with such joy, and he was so cool while doing it. I want my children to understand this as well.”
Allison went into their backyard to spend time with Stephen after a particularly stressful day in February.
“Stars are so important to me because they represent where we believe he is.” “I knew I wanted him to be at peace,” she says. “I was alone under the stars and told him, ‘I forgive you, and I hope you’re with us.’” It was extremely healing to talk to him and convey all those sentiments of forgiveness and loss, but also love and joy.”
Allison hasn’t been able to return to the mutual enthusiasm that once drew her and Stephen together.
“Dancing with him was so special,” she says, “and I still haven’t danced.” That will be a big step for me, but I know I can do it. He’s directing my steps.”
