I want my losses to inspire and give hope to people who are stuck in their grief! 

I’m a country girl at heart from northern Illinois, where I grew up surrounded by open spaces, starry skies, and the simple joys of a slower pace. I enjoy gathering with family and friends, spending time outdoors, and being with animals, especially dogs and horses. I believe life is better with a dog by your side and a horse to ride. I also love the adventure of traveling and exploring new places.

My world turned upside down when I was 15, after my parents divorced. I moved from the quiet countryside to DeKalb, a larger city in Illinois. Suddenly, everything that had once felt safe and familiar—my friends, my pets, the farm, and most of all, my grandma—was no longer part of my daily life. She had been like a mother to me: loving, nurturing, and always present. Losing that closeness left me feeling untethered, because the one steady person and safe place in my life suddenly felt far away.

With so many life changes happening all at once, I couldn’t make sense of everything I was feeling. So, I coped the only way I knew how: by staying busy with school, work, and sports. Constant motion became my way of surviving, even if I didn’t fully understand what I was running from. I finished high school early and went on to earn a degree in Communication Studies from Northern Illinois University.

After some time, I moved to Hermosa Beach, California, where I fell in love with the ocean, coastal life, and beach volleyball. One of the highlights of that season was working for an action sports film company, capturing the grit and telling the stories of athletes as they pushed their physical and mental limits. Every project was full of creativity and adventure, and it deepened my respect for the courage it takes to live fully—on and off the mountain.

Later, my life shifted in a new and beautiful direction as I became a mom to two amazing children. Motherhood brought a different kind of adventure, one that stretched my heart with a love I had never known. The bond I felt with my children was indescribable, something I hadn’t experienced growing up, as my own mother had always been emotionally absent. That contrast stirred something deep within me. It made me more aware of how much we carry inside, and how deeply we long to feel safe, seen, and loved. Over time, I found myself craving a slower, more grounded life, one that gave me space to breathe and be more present with the people I loved most. Eventually, my family and I found that sense of home in Colorado, surrounded by mountains, blue skies, and a pace of life that finally felt right.

In many ways, this work chose me. Here’s where it all began.

After my son and daughter were born, emotions I didn’t even know I had buried began to surface. I found myself easily triggered by the day-to-day demands of motherhood and the constant pressure to keep everything together. I was stretched thin—quick to anger or tears—and I didn’t understand why. I felt exhausted and ashamed that I couldn’t fully show up for my children, even though I loved them with all my heart.

As I struggled to hold it all together, I began to realize the emotions surfacing weren’t just about motherhood—they were the weight of unhealed pain I had carried for years. Everything I had buried was making it hard to be fully present with my children. I longed to enjoy them and meet their needs with calm and peace, but inside I felt overwhelmed and unsure. I was doing my best, but deep down knew I needed help.

That’s when a friend invited me to a grief support group. I almost didn’t go because I didn’t think I was grieving. I thought grief was something that only happened after a death. What I didn’t yet understand was that I had been carrying layers of loss, disappointment, and emotional pain I had never acknowledged, let alone knew how to heal from.

As I listened to others share their stories, something inside me began to soften. The group became a safe space where I could talk about my feelings without fear of being judged or criticized. No one tried to fix me, they just listened. For the first time, I didn’t feel alone in my pain and that my feelings mattered.

That’s when I realized I had been grieving—grieving losses from my childhood, my mother’s emotional absence, the loss of safety and stability, broken trust in relationships, and the deep sorrow of never fully mourning my father’s death.

Naming those losses was both painful and freeing. For the first time, I had words for what I had been carrying. I wasn’t “too emotional” or “too sensitive.” I was hurting. And beneath all that pain was a longing to be free from the weight of it all.

It was within that group that I was introduced to the Grief Recovery Method® and everything began to shift. For the first time, I had practical tools and a clear process to help me release the pain I had carried for so long. It gave me language for emotions I had never been able to express, and the freedom to begin healing. The peace and clarity I found through that process helped me show up more fully for my children and begin to feel like myself again.

As I experienced my own healing, I couldn’t stop thinking about how many others were silently carrying heavy emotional pain—unsure where to turn, and feeling alone, overwhelmed, or stuck in their grief. That realization sparked something in me. I knew I wanted to help others find the same sense of relief and renewal that had transformed my life.

Becoming certified in the Grief Recovery Method® felt like the next right step—one that allowed me to turn my pain into purpose. I completed the program through the Grief Recovery Institute and became a Grief Recovery Specialist in 2007. What began as a personal journey soon grew into a deep commitment to creating a safe, compassionate space where people feel heard, supported, and empowered to heal.

That space eventually became Ebb & Flow COS. COS stands for Colorado Springs, the beautiful city I now call home and where this mission took root. It’s more than a business. It’s a sanctuary where people can navigate grief with honesty, courage, and most importantly, learn the tools to recover.

The name Ebb & Flow COS came from what grief taught me: it’s relentless, disorienting, and often hits without warning. Grief isn’t linear, and neither is healing. One moment you’re standing; the next, you’re pulled under by pain you thought you’d already moved through. It’s raw, messy, and unpredictable. Sometimes, it feels like it could swallow you whole.

Since becoming certified, I’ve had the privilege of walking alongside hundreds of individuals through all forms of loss—death, divorce, estrangement, life transitions, childhood trauma, broken trust, and the quiet grief of unmet hopes, dreams, and expectations. I also support those mourning the loss of a beloved pet. These are just a few examples; the Grief Recovery Institute recognizes over 40 distinct types of loss.

Grief can show up in countless ways, and no loss is too small or insignificant. I work with people who are tired of “just coping” and ready to do the deeper work of healing. Some arrive feeling numb or stuck; others are in the thick of heartbreak. Wherever they are, my role is to provide a safe, compassionate space where they can speak their truth, learn practical tools for recovery and begin to feel whole again.

I especially love working with those who, like I once did, have carried pain they didn’t even recognize as grief. Helping them name their losses, find their voice, and reclaim their lives is the heart of this work. It’s why I do what I do.

What makes this work so meaningful to me is that it’s not about offering quick fixes or surface-level advice. It’s about creating space to honor each person’s story and walking alongside them through the hard parts without judgment, pressure, or comparison. I know what it’s like to feel lost in the weight of unspoken pain. That’s why I believe healing happens when we feel safe to be honest, supported in facing our pain, and equipped with the right tools to move forward.

In addition to my work with individuals and groups, I also partner with workplaces and organizations to support employees who are grieving. I help teams navigate loss with compassion, improve their ability to support one another, and foster a healthier culture of care, empathy, and connection.

Why a fluffy, chubby, cute little bird?

I LOVE how these sweet little birds who often visit my deck make me feel. They’re full of warmth and comfort, and they bring me so much joy. They sing no matter the weather or season and seem to carry lightness wherever they go. They embody the essence of what I want my clients to experience on the other side of grief. So it felt only fitting that one of these birds became my logo mark. Meet Chubs!