Forget Knot Grief Coaching

05/06/2026

3 things not to say to someone walking through ambiguous loss

“At least they’re still here.”
“You need to stay positive.”
“They wouldn’t want you to be sad.”

When my dad was living with young onset dementia, I heard versions of these often. And while I know people meant well, ambiguous grief is so much more complicated than people realize.

I was grieving someone who was still physically here.
Grieving the slow changes.
Grieving the conversations we no longer had.
Grieving while still showing up as a daughter, a mom, and trying to hold everything together after loss after loss.

That’s the hard part about ambiguous grief—
there’s no clear ending, no closure, and often no space to openly grieve because the person is still alive.

Instead of trying to fix it or make it feel lighter, try saying:
“I can see how painful this is.”
“You don’t have to carry this alone.”
“I’m here to listen.”

Sometimes being witnessed in the grief matters more than having the “right” words. 💛

05/05/2026

What else? How has grief affected your life?

Not just the loss,
but everything after.

The quiet shifts.
The parts people don’t always see.
The ways you feel… different now.

What’s one thing grief has changed for you?

One word. One sentence.
I’m here to listen. 💛

04/30/2026

Grief didn’t just feel like sadness for me.
It felt like fear.

Fear of what was coming next.
Fear of who I was becoming.
Fear of how much more I could possibly carry.

After losing my dad… and then walking through loss after loss in such a short time,
my body didn’t know how to settle.
It stayed braced. Waiting. Protecting.

No one really talks about that part,
how grief can feel like you’re always holding your breath,
just trying to make it through the next moment.

If this is how grief has been showing up for you,
you don’t have to carry it alone.

If you’re in this space right now,
you can comment the word “grief” or simply reach out.
I’m here to sit with you in it 💛

04/29/2026

No one talks about what it feels like when the grief doesn’t stop.

I didn’t have time to heal after losing my dad.

Before I could even begin to process that loss, life kept moving,
and more grief followed.

Different kinds.
Different people.
Different moments that changed me.

And somehow…
I was still a mom in the middle of it all.

Still packing lunches.
Still showing up.
Still being needed.

There’s a kind of grief that comes when you don’t get space to fall apart.
When you have to keep going while everything inside of you is shifting.

That’s compounded grief.

And it can feel invisible,
because from the outside, it looks like you’re “handling it.”

But inside, you’re carrying more than most people realize.

If this is you, raising a family while holding layered loss…
you don’t have to keep carrying it alone.

I created Forget Knot for this exact kind of grief.
A space where your loss is seen, held, and understood.

04/28/2026

There are things that used to completely throw me off. The small inconveniences, uncomfortable conversations, plans changing, even just sitting in silence. It all felt like too much at times.

But after losing my dad, and then experiencing loss again and again after that, while still raising a family and trying to show up for everyday life, my perspective shifted in a way I didn’t expect.

Not because things got easier, but because I started to see what actually matters and what doesn’t hold the same weight anymore.

Compounded loss has a way of changing you. It strips things down, reshapes what you have capacity for, and makes certain things just… not hit the same.

There are still hard days. There always will be. But some things that once felt overwhelming just don’t phase me in the same way now.

I support women who are raising a family while carrying layered loss, learning how to hold both.

04/27/2026

There was a point where I couldn’t tell what I was grieving anymore.

My dad.
The version of him I was already losing.
And then… five more losses that followed.

All while raising a family.

It didn’t feel like separate grief.
It felt like everything blending into one.

Some days I felt numb.
Some days I couldn’t access it at all.

Not because I didn’t care…
but because it was too much to hold at once.

If you’re navigating ambiguous grief and life keeps happening on top of it…
you’re not doing it wrong.

You’re carrying a lot.

Just meet what’s here today. That’s enough. 🤍

I support women who are raising a family while carrying layered loss,
if this feels like your story, you’re welcome here.

11/26/2025

11/26/2025

11/21/2025

Holidays have a way of shining a spotlight on what's changing.

If you're experiencing anticipatory grief, especially due to dementia, Alzheimer's, or a progressing illness;
Thanksgiving can feel like you're pulled in two emotional directions at once.

You can feel grateful and also devastated by what's slipping away.

You can love the moment you're in and still be grieving the moments you know are coming.

This does not make you unappreciative or negative.This makes you someone who loves deeply.

If Thanksgiving feels different this year, I'm holding space for you.

Your heart is doing the best it can.

11/10/2025