Grief can arrive in many forms. It may follow the death of someone you love, the ending of a relationship, changes in health, migration, unmet hopes, or versions of life that never quite came to be. Sometimes grief is loud and overwhelming. Other times it moves quietly in the background, showing up as fatigue, irritability, numbness, or a sense of disconnection from yourself or the world around you.
There is no right way to grieve. No timeline. No finish line. Grief is not something to get over or fix — it is something we learn to live alongside, in ways that can slowly become more bearable.
What grief can feel like
Grief often moves in waves. You may feel moments of steadiness followed by sudden surges of sadness, longing, anger, or confusion. You might notice changes in sleep, appetite, concentration, or motivation. At times, your body may feel heavy, tight, restless, or far away.
For many people, grief is also layered with other experiences — family expectations, cultural beliefs about mourning, pressure to be “strong,” or the sense that others are ready for you to move on before you are. These layers can make grief feel lonely or hard to name.
Grieving is not linear
Grief does not unfold in neat stages. You may revisit the same feelings again and again, sometimes years later, often triggered by dates, places, or unexpected reminders. This does not mean you are doing something wrong. It means your system is responding to loss in its own timing.
In this work, we make space for the nonlinear nature of grief — for moving back and forth between sorrow and relief, presence and absence, remembering and continuing.
Sitting with grief, gently
In our work together, we do not try to push grief away or rush it toward resolution. Instead, we focus on creating enough safety and support for you to be with what is here, moment by moment.
Using a somatic approach, we pay attention to how grief lives in the body — the tightening, the heaviness, the ache, the places that want to soften or withdraw. We move slowly, noticing small shifts in sensation, breath, and capacity. This allows grief to be felt without overwhelming your nervous system.
You do not need to retell your story in detail unless it feels supportive. Often, the work happens in quiet moments of attunement, pacing, and listening to what your body is asking for.
How I support the grieving process
I offer a space that is steady, compassionate, and respectful of your unique experience of loss. My role is not to take grief away, but to accompany you as you learn how to carry it — with more support, less isolation, and greater self-trust.
Together, we may work on:
- Building capacity to feel without becoming flooded or shut down
- Honoring the bond with what or whom you have lost
- Supporting moments of rest, grounding, and regulation alongside grief
- Making room for meaning, memory, and continued connection in ways that feel true to you
Grief changes us. With care and time, it can also soften, integrate, and coexist with moments of connection, ease, and life moving forward.

