Why I Do This Work: A Letter to Anyone Navigating Grief & Loss

Before… And After

We were talking about New Zealand. Our son was in high school and had plans for his future, so Mike and I were starting to talk about what our empty-nest life would look like. Mike was giving thought to how far he could take his career if we were willing to move, and he asked me what I thought of New Zealand. 

In other words, our son wasn’t the only one with big dreams for the future. 

What started as a text message telling me that he wasn’t feeling all that great soon became a panicked grip on my life as my foundation fractured beneath me. 

A trip to the ER…

Tests… pneumonia… that’s treatable, right?

Another text: Don’t freak out. They’re moving me to the ICU.

We’re not sure he’s going to survive this.

More tests… and some hard decisions.

In the span of three weeks, I went from what about New Zealand? to widowed. 

I thought the grief would do me in. For months, I couldn’t decide if I was more surprised that the sun had risen that day or that I had. 

I had never been in that kind of pain before—emotional, physical, spiritual. And it took a long time before I was even ready to start putting my life back together.

Hi, I’m Sonja.

As of this writing, I’ve been widowed for almost eleven years. Along my journey I’ve learned that we can build something beautiful from the pieces.

If…

• the people in your life keep telling you how strong you are and how great you’re doing, but you’re barely putting one foot in front of the other…

• you’re sick of hearing that your person would want you to be happy (and really, you’d like to be happy, too), but you don’t know how you can be ever again...

• you’re so tired of grieving and want to start living your life again…

… you’re in the right place. 

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Grief and Loss Touch E.ver.y.thing

Grief doesn’t just break your heart.

It rewires your brain. It floods your nervous system. It exhausts your body and chips away at your ability to function in everyday life. It reshapes how you see yourself, and how you see the world. It messes with your address book—some people drift away, while others you barely knew suddenly show up and get it in a way that surprises you.

Grief is everywhere. It touches everything.

It’s in the way your energy disappears halfway through the day–if it was even there when you woke up. (Be honest. Did you even sleep last night?)

It’s in the blank stare at the sink, and you can’t remember how long you’ve been standing there. 

It’s in the piles of laundry, the texts you forgot to respond to, the conversations you’ve checked out of because you can’t stay focused. 

It's in the rituals you can no longer bring yourself to do—and in the ones you must do to stay afloat.

And even science agrees: grief doesn’t just affect the heart—it disrupts the whole system.

According to Harvard Health, grief can:

• Weaken the immune system and increase vulnerability to illness

• Impair memory, focus, and decision-making

• Trigger fatigue, brain fog, and sleep disruptions

• Increase the risk of anxiety, depression, and other mood disorders

• Contribute to inflammation and cardiovascular problems

So if you’ve been struggling to “get it together” and wondering what’s wrong with you—please hear this: Nothing is wrong with you. You’re grieving. And grief is a whole-body, whole-life, whole-soul experience.

But perhaps the hardest part is this: the world keeps turning, and you're expected to keep up with it. To “move on.” To smile and function and maybe even be grateful. People often don’t realize that grief isn’t something you finish. It’s something you learn to carry—and carry forward with you.

💬 Comment below: What’s one part of grief that surprised you the most?

Finding the Right Grief Support is Tough

Not everyone has a great support system–and far too often, grievers don’t learn that until their worlds fall apart. 

But I got lucky. Very nearly all of my friends and family were so kind, so supportive. They listened to me cry and rage, gave me tons of grace, and encouraged my tiny steps forward.  

I had reached a point, though, when I was ready to figure out what came next and to start putting my life back together. My family was my biggest cheerleader, but I wanted someone to help me with the more practical and pragmatic aspects of rebuilding a life… 

…Someone who could help me make decisions without weighing in with their opinions. (Everyone has one, don’t they? Especially when you’re grieving?)

I had worked with a life coach several years earlier and thought this would be a great fit for me as I tried to figure out my future.

But it was important to me that I find someone who understood the shorthand of grief. I didn’t want to have to explain…

…the days when I couldn’t get out of bed

…my crappy memory

…that sometimes I needed my steps forward to be so tiny lest anything larger trip the anxiety that was new to me.

…and all the other things that come with living with grief.

At the time, I couldn’t find that person and figured things out for myself.

This experience isn’t unique to me. So many people who are grieving find themselves trying to navigate something life-altering without the support they need. And it’s no wonder—because:

• A lot of people never find formal support, even when they really need it.

• Many therapists and professionals haven’t had grief-specific training.

• Most of the support disappears after the funeral—right when the numbness wears off.

• Grief from major life events like divorce, illness, or job loss often isn’t taken seriously.

So many grievers are left trying to figure it out on their own. And that’s just not okay.

Healing After a Loss Is Possible 

One of my uncles gave me the best advice I’ve ever received: Don’t run from grief. Face it head-on.

That truth has guided me not just through my husband's death, but also through a cascade of other losses—friends, family, mentors, pets, even a cancer diagnosis. And what I’ve learned is this: Grief doesn’t go away. Even eleven years into this journey, I still have hard days. But I have amazing, meaningful days, too, and you can build something beautiful with what remains.

There’s a name for this: Post-Traumatic Growth. It’s the process by which people who’ve experienced trauma begin to grow—not because of the trauma, but in spite of it. Research shows it’s possible to emerge from grief with:

• A deeper appreciation of life

• Stronger relationships

• Clearer purpose

• Greater inner strength

For me, the metaphor that fits best is a mosaic: What starts as broken pieces becomes something entirely new—and still beautiful.

Why I Do This Work

It took me a long time to see it clearly, but once I did, it felt simple and true:

I could become the person I needed (but couldn’t find) and use what I learned to serve others.

In those early days of grief, I wanted someone who wouldn’t flinch at my pain. Someone who wouldn’t offer me silver linings or quick fixes or timelines. I needed someone who could sit in the mess with me—not trying to clean it up, but helping me make sense of it. I needed someone who could walk beside me while I figured out how to keep living.

That’s who I try to be now—for you.

Grief coaching isn’t about “moving on” or rushing to feel better. It’s about creating space to be real about how hard this is—and to explore what’s possible when you're ready. It’s about learning how to carry your grief while you begin to piece your life back together.

Whether you're grieving the loss of a loved one, the end of a relationship, a version–and vision–of your life that’s now gone, or even your own health…

…this space is for you.

Sometimes that means helping you decide whether or not to date again.

Sometimes it’s talking through a career pivot or walking with you through a life-altering diagnosis.

Sometimes it’s offering prompts for writing when you’re feeling stuck or sitting with you in silence when words are too much.

Sometimes it’s helping you sort through a closet full of memories.

Sometimes it’s celebrating the quiet, brave moments—like making a phone call you’ve been avoiding or cooking a real meal for the first time in months.

But always—it means being there.

Holding space.

Holding hope.

Not because I have all the answers. But because I know what it’s like to need someone who understands the terrain.

It All Comes Down To… 

Grief and loss affect everything. They’re not just emotional experiences—they’re transformational.

They touch your identity, your relationships, your body, your routines, your sense of meaning. They change how you move through the world.

And yet, most grievers don’t get the support they truly need. Not because they’re doing it wrong, but because the world doesn’t always know how to show up for people in pain. That doesn’t mean you’re broken. That doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re grieving—and grief asks a lot from us.

Healing after a loss isn’t about forgetting or getting “back to normal.” It’s about learning to live in a new way. It’s about gathering the broken pieces and beginning to shape something new—something honest, beautiful, and completely your own.

That’s why I do this work.

Because I’ve lived it. I’ve been undone by loss, and I’ve slowly—so slowly—learned how to rebuild. Now, I walk with others as they do the same. Not to fix them. Not to tell them how it should look. But to remind them that they’re not alone, that there’s no wrong way to grieve, and that a new kind of life is still possible.

💌 If this resonates with you—if you’re in the middle of the messy in-between—please know there’s space for you here, just as you are. I’m ready to talk when you are.

You’re welcome to stay awhile. Read. Reflect. Subscribe to the newsletter if you’d like a gentle note in your inbox now and then. I’ll be here, holding space for your story as it unfolds.