I help people whose grief hasn’t moved with time, where the weight feels endless and overwhelming.
Complicated grief can feel like life stopped the day your loved one died.
While others return to “normal,” you remain in the same unbearable place.
The days circle around painful what ifs and regrets.
Sleep won’t come, or when it does, your mind jolts awake with memories you can’t outrun.
People expect you to be moving forward, but you’re not.
You feel cut off, ashamed of how much the loss still controls you, and afraid you’ll never find your footing again.
There is nothing wrong with you.
What you’re experiencing is not weakness, it is what happens when loss collides with guilt, shock, or unanswered questions.
Your grief is real. And it matters.
For many, grief changes shape over time. It doesn’t disappear, but it softens enough to weave into life.
Complicated grief is different. Instead of softening, it freezes. It holds you in the moment of loss, as if time stopped.
The mind can’t make sense of what happened.
The heart can’t accept the reality of the absence.
The body stays braced for impact, long after the loss has already struck.
This is why it feels unrelenting.
Grief is meant to move, but here it stays stuck, circling the same pain again and again.
It isn’t because you’re weak or doing it wrong.
It’s because your grief hasn’t been able to find the path forward.
Therapy gives you a place to set that weight down, even for a while, so you don’t have to hold it alone.
In this space, your grief has room to be witnessed, without judgment, without pressure to be “okay.”
It becomes the part of your week where grief has its rightful place, instead of spilling uncontrollably into every moment.
We begin to gently untangle the knots that keep grief frozen.
We explore the stories, the longings, the unfinished pieces that your mind and heart haven’t been able to release.
Bit by bit, therapy helps your grief move again, not by erasing it, but by helping it find its place in your life.
Many people come to me after trying to manage grief on their own, or after general therapy left them feeling unseen.
That’s because complicated grief requires more than coping tools. It requires someone who isn’t afraid to sit in the hardest places with you.
I’ve walked with people through sudden deaths, suicides, miscarriages, and child loss. I know how it feels when grief won’t let up, and I know how much courage it takes to face it.
My role is to be steady in that darkness, to witness the full weight of your loss, and to help you begin carrying it in a way that no longer consumes you.
You’ll wake with moments of calm instead of dread.
You might notice that your thoughts feel clearer, that you can make plans without the fog closing in.
Conversations become easier because you don’t feel silenced or judged.
And as the heaviness shifts, you’ll find yourself laughing again.
Not because you’ve stopped grieving, but because grief no longer has to consume all of you.
Grief is not a side focus for me, it’s the heart of my work.
I’ve supported people through countless losses, and my clients often say they just “had a feeling” I would understand.
That’s because grief isn’t something I minimize or fear. It’s something I meet fully, with compassion and steadiness. Nothing you bring will be too much.
