Sometimes grief is loud and obvious; someone you love dies and your whole world changes overnight. Other times it sneaks in quietly: the end of a relationship, a big life shift, the version of life you thought you’d have slowly slipping away. It doesn’t always wear black or come with sympathy cards. But it’s still grief.
 
Grief doesn’t follow a timeline. It doesn’t care if it’s been three days or three decades. And it doesn’t only show up after death. I’ve worked with people grieving parents they never had, futures that didn’t happen, relationships that were never quite right, people rebuilding after life threw a spanner in the works (or several). It all counts. 

No two people experience grief the same way. And here’s the truth: you’re not meant to “get over it” or “move on.” But it can become something that reshapes you, rather than flattens you. You can learn to carry it differently – with more understanding, more space to breathe, and less pressure to pretend you’re fine when you’re clearly not.

Therapy gives you that space.

It’s somewhere you don’t have to put on a brave face or make it make sense. You can be angry, sad, confused, numb, relieved, all of the above (or none of the above). We’ll work with it all.

I have extensive experience supporting people through grief, especially after traumatic losses such as suicide and drugs/alcohol bereavement. I’m also a grief trainer, delivering training on topics like the neurodivergent experience of grief & loss.