Grief and Loss Counseling
You’ve lost someone or — something — that mattered deeply.
Maybe it was a death. Maybe it was a divorce or a breakup. Maybe it was a child. Maybe it was a miscarriage. Maybe it was a hope you held close, and now it’s gone.
Whatever the shape of your loss, it changed you.
Even if the world has moved on... you haven’t.
You still feel the ache in your chest. The hollowness in the morning. The tiredness that doesn’t lift. The guilt that whispers:
"Why am I still like this?"
"What’s wrong with me?"
"Am I just too sensitive?"
"What if I never stop feeling this way?"
If these words feel like yours, I invite you to reach out. Your grief deserves a witness.
Grief: a mall parking lot carnival ride
Grief is disorderly and sometimes feels like chaos. It’s sadness, and so much more.
It’s longing — for the text that never comes. It’s unfinished conversations. It’s walking past their favorite snack in the grocery store. It’s anniversaries that feel hollow. It’s bursting with love and having nowhere to put it. It’s trying to function when every moment reminds you something is missing.
Sometimes it’s a scent, a season, a song... and suddenly you’re undone.
Grief doesn’t follow five neat stages. It doesn’t show up in order. It’s more like a carnival rollercoaster — jerky, disorienting, and too much.
One minute, you’re okay. The next, you’re crying in the frozen food aisle.
And sometimes it’s just... too quiet. You miss the mess. The text at the wrong time. The light they always left on.
You didn’t know you’d miss the parts that once drove you bonkers.
You’re Not Broken
People may expect you to move on. To cheer up. To stop bringing it up. Others, though good meaning can say the most unhelpful things when we experience loss. Phrases like
"Time heals all wounds."
"You should be better by now."
“There’s more fish in the sea.”
“God needs another angel.”
These are just things that make you feel more alone, more fearful, and more stuck.
Your grief didn’t end with the funeral. Or the divorce papers. Or the moment that dream slipped away.
You’re not broken. You’re not going crazy. You’re grieving.
And grief deserves space — not silence. Healing requires mourning your loss outwardly.
If your tired of feeling alone, tired of feeling rushed, tired of feeling lost or stuck. Let me help you move through this wilderness of grief.
"There is no grief like the grief that does not speak."
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Who I Am & How I Help
When we experience loss, we can feel like being dropped into a vast, unfamiliar wilderness — no trail markers, no map, just a sense that you’re lost in something too big to name.
I’m not here to lead you out. I’m here to walk beside you.
You are the expert of your journey. You teach me the terrain as we go — the steep climbs, the hidden valleys, the places you’ve already traveled and the places you fear to tread.
I’ve accompanied many people through this wild terrain. And I’ve navigated my own versions of it, too. I’ve felt the sharp edges of death in my family. I’ve sat with the hollow ache of miscarriage. I’ve carried the weight of unmet expectations from loved ones. I’ve moved through the grief of a painful, complex adoption process.
These experiences have shaped the way I sit with sorrow — not as something to fix or rush, but as something sacred to witness.
In our work together, I bring a warm, trauma-informed approach grounded in deep presence and respect. Whether your grief is loud or quiet, new or decades old, we’ll make space for it all.
Together, we’ll:
Slow down and listen to what your grief is telling you
Make space for the ache, the memory, and the love that endures
Discover a pace and rhythm that honors where you are — not where you “should” be
Grief isn’t something to overcome. It’s something to walk with.
And I’ll be there beside you — in the silence, the messiness, and the moments of unexpected light.
The Real Cost of Waiting
When grief is buried, it doesn’t disappear. It shows up later.
In anxiety. Depression. Burnout. Emptiness.
Unspoken grief can strain your relationships, drain your energy, and chip away at your sense of self.
I’ve worked with clients who "moved on" too fast. Who stayed busy. Who stuffed it down.
Eventually, it caught up with them.
This isn’t about wallowing. It’s about tending to the wound now — So it doesn’t deepen later.
So you can carry love without being crushed by loss. So you can remember without the weight. You can have the memories without the pain.
You don’t have to wait until it gets worse. You can start caring for yourself now. Gently. Intentionally. With support.
Start Here to Reconcile your Loss
If something here resonated with you — If part of you sighed or softened or felt understood — Let’s talk.
A space to mourn what mattered. A space to begin mending. You don’t need to explain why you’re still hurting. Or why this dream, this hope, this person still matters. Meaning will be found.
Whether your grief is new or old. Whether it’s for a death, a miscarriage, a breakup,
or a hope that never came to be...
Your loss will be made known. Your loss will be shared.
Your healing can begin here… with care, with space, and without pressure