Loss changes everything.
Sometimes suddenly. Sometimes slowly.
But always in a way that rearranges the landscape of your life.
Maybe you’ve lost someone you love: a partner, a parent, a friend, a colleague.
Maybe you’ve lost something you built: a business, a project, a home, a dream.
Or maybe you’re facing a quieter kind of loss. A loss of identity, of who you used to be, of the life you thought you’d have.
Whatever the form, grief has a way of stopping time.
You look around, and somehow the world keeps moving.
Emails keep coming, people keep asking for things. But you’re not able to keep up with all of it.
You’re here, but not quite here.
Grief doesn’t always look like tears.
Sometimes it looks like exhaustion, irritation, forgetfulness, or numbness.
Sometimes it shows up as overworking, scrolling endlessly, or filling your schedule so you don’t have to feel.
Whether you’ve lost a loved one, a role, or a sense of direction, your grief deserves space, not a timeline, not a fix, not a quick phrase like everything happens for a reason.
Because this hurts, it’s painful, and pretending otherwise doesn’t help.
You’re holding it together for everyone else, then falling apart in private.
You feel disconnected from people who don’t “get it.”
You can’t concentrate or find motivation, even for things that used to matter.
You’re cycling between sadness, guilt, anger, and confusion.
You feel pressure to “move on,” but you can’t or don’t want to.
Not every loss gets acknowledged.
Sometimes the grief is invisible — the loss of a marriage long before the divorce papers are signed.
The loss of a business you poured yourself into.
The loss of a job that once defined your purpose.
The loss that comes when your last child leaves home, or when you realize the life you built doesn’t fit anymore.
Grief can come from relocation, from retirement, from letting go of who you were in order to step into who you’re becoming.
And those losses deserve compassion, too.
You don’t have to justify your pain for it to be real.
So much of our sense of self is tied to what we do, who we love, or where we belong.
Maybe you’ve lost a spouse or gone through a break up or divorce.
Maybe you’ve retired or left medicine and no longer recognize the person in the mirror.
Maybe you’ve relocated or sent your last child to college and now you’re left with quiet, uncertainty, and questions.
Grief after identity loss can be disorienting, but it’s also an invitation to rebuild, reimagine, and rediscover.
Therapy can help you navigate that in-between space with compassion and courage.
Therapy can help you make sense of your grief, not to move on, but to move through.
To find meaning, peace, and connection in a life that now looks different.
Together, we’ll create space for your loss — space that feels safe, sacred, and human.
You’ll have permission to tell the story, to cry, to be quiet, to not have words.
We’ll explore the layers of your grief.
I'll help you reconnect to your values, body, and sense of hope, however small it feels right now.
You’ll begin to
Understand your grief process and what’s normal for you.
Feel less alone and more supported.
Reconnect to your body, rest, and rhythms.
Explore who you are now and who you’re becoming.
Learn to carry your loss with compassion, not guilt.
I use a relational and humanistic approach, informed by Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), attachment theory, interpersonal, and somatic principles.
Grief is both emotional and physical and it lives in the body as much as the mind. Together, we’ll learn to listen to what your body is holding and gently make space for release, rest, and renewal.
Therapy with me isn’t about making your pain go away. It’s about helping you feel less alone in it.
You can expect warmth, patience, and the freedom to show up exactly as you are: messy, angry, numb, or heartbroken.
You don’t have to find the right words or keep it together. You can simply be human.
Some sessions may feel tender and heavy; others may surprise you with laughter or lightness.
Both are welcome.
Together, we’ll find small ways to create meaning and connection in this new chapter of your life and to honor what (and who) you’ve lost.
Schedule a free consultation to see if we’re a good fit.
Meet for your first session, in person in Silverton or via telehealth anywhere in Oregon.
Start finding calm, clarity, and space to breathe.
You don’t have to go through this alone.
Grief takes courage. So does reaching out for support. You’ve already taken the first step.
You can grieve and grow at the same time. You can carry your love and your sadness, your longing and your hope. You can start to feel like yourself again, slowly, gently, and truthfully.
Serving Salem, Portland, Lake Oswego, Bend, and all of Oregon in person and via telehealth.