I had experienced loss before. Family members on my mom's side had died relatively young, but grief wasn't something we talked about openly. Life moved on. There were moments of sadness on birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays, but then we went back to our everyday lives.

Losing my mom was different.

Her death changed everything. It forced me to confront grief in a way I never had before—and made it impossible for me to continue living a life that didn't feel authentic.

I found myself asking questions I had never considered:

Who am I without my mother by my side?
Am I hearing her voice guiding me?
What does this loss mean for the life ahead of me?

And my grief didn't exist in a vacuum. In the years that followed, I experienced the end of my 24-year marriage, changing family dynamics, evolving friendships, and a profound shift in how I saw myself and the world around me.

I felt misunderstood. I felt alone. I felt deeply sad. And for a while, I didn't feel safe in the world I thought I knew.

But I also knew I couldn't ignore what was happening inside of me.

So I started exploring.

I journaled. I meditated. I went to therapy. I took long walks in nature. I visited my mom's grave. I read books and listened to podcasts. I explored spirituality and worked with psychic mediums. I immersed myself in everything I could find about grief.

I wanted to understand what was happening to me.

And somewhere along the way, I realized I didn't just want to understand my own grief. I wanted to understand grief itself.

That led me to become a Certified Grief Educator and deepened my desire to create the kind of space I desperately needed when I was grieving.

Over time, I began to understand that healing wasn't about getting over my mom or leaving my grief behind. It was about learning how to carry her—and my grief—with me while continuing to live.

I discovered the power of journaling, self-care, community, spirituality, and simply giving myself permission to feel what I felt. I found comfort in synchronicities and in the belief that our relationships with the people we love don't necessarily end when they die. My connection with my mom continues to be an important part of my life.

And slowly, I began to feel more like myself again.

Not the person I was before my mom died.

A new version of me.

One who could hold grief and joy at the same time. One who could honor what I'd lost while still making room for love, purpose, connection, and a life I wanted to live.

That's where Grieve2Live was born.

I created Grieve2Live because I know how lonely grief can feel. And I know how powerful it can be to have a place where you don't have to explain yourself, pretend you're okay, or worry that you're grieving “wrong.”

My goal isn't to tell you how to grieve or when you should feel better.

I'm here to create spaces where you can feel, share, listen, connect, and be supported in community.

Because grief doesn't have an expiration date. And learning to live after loss doesn't mean leaving the people or the life we loved behind.

You can carry your grief with you and still create a life filled with love, meaning, connection, and joy.

That's what it means to Grieve2Live.