One-on-One Grief Coaching for Men
When the weight becomes too much to carry alone.
You don’t need me to tell you what grief feels like. You know the 2am version. The grocery store version — when a song comes on and you have to leave your cart in the aisle. The version where everyone around you seems to have moved on and you’re still standing in the same spot, wondering what’s wrong with you.
Nothing is wrong with you. This is what loss does.
The question isn’t whether you’re grieving right. The question is whether you have somewhere to take it.
Who This is For
You lost someone recently.
The acute phase — the fog, the admin, the performance of okay-ness in front of everyone else. If that’s where you are, this is a place to put it down.
Your loss wasn’t recent. It just isn’t done.
Grief doesn’t follow a calendar. A lot of men come to this work years after a loss, when something finally cracks it open. That’s not delayed. That’s exactly when you’re ready.
You’re watching someone die.
Anticipatory grief is still grief. The exhaustion of caregiving, the dread of what’s coming, the strange guilt of grieving someone who’s still here — all of it is real, and all of it deserves room.
Your loss doesn’t have a funeral.
Job. Relationship. Health. Identity. Losses that don’t get casseroles or condolence cards. The ones that go unwitnessed. Those count too.
What Men Are Usually Carrying When They Find Me
A lot of men show up to grief alone. Not because they don’t feel it — they do — but because the infrastructure isn’t there. The emotional vocabulary. The permission. The people.
Some men were raised with one outlet: stay busy, stay useful, stay in control. Grief doesn’t care about any of that. It shows up anyway.
Some men lost the person who was their person — the one they told everything to. Now they’re grieving the loss and the loneliness at the same time, and there’s no obvious next move.
Some men are drinking more than they want to. Working more than they want to. Checking out in ways that are starting to worry them.
I’m not telling you this to alarm you. I’m telling you because I’ve seen all of it, and none of it makes you broken.
It makes you someone who needed more support than you had.
What We Actually Do Together
We talk. That’s the spine of it.
We talk about what happened, and what grief is actually doing in your life right now — not the version you’re presenting to the world, but the real one. We find language for things you may have never said out loud. We pay attention to your body, not just your thoughts, because grief lives in both.
We work on the practical stuff too — the overwhelm, the sleep, the relationships that are straining under the weight of this. And we work on meaning. On what this loss is asking of you. On who you’re becoming on the other side of it.
I’m not a therapist. I don’t treat conditions. What I do is hold space for the full complexity of your grief and help you move through it in a way that’s yours — not a template, not a checklist, not a five-stage model.
The work moves at your pace. There’s no timeline.
How It Works
All sessions are virtual — Zoom or phone. I’m based in Sebastopol, CA and work with clients across the US.
What most clients do:
An initial 90-minute deep-dive session to get oriented and begin the real work
Bi-weekly 60-minute sessions — no minimum, no maximum
Check-ins and email or text support between sessions
Pricing
I use a trust-based sliding scale. No documentation required — you know your financial reality best.
Patron Rate — $325/hour You have the means to pay the full rate and then some. Choosing this rate helps make coaching accessible to community members who can't.
Standard Rate — $275/hour Your coaching is paid by an institution or organization, or you have personal or generational wealth and can invest in your development without significant strain.
Bridge Rate — $200/hour You're paying out of pocket, financially stable but budget-conscious, and making a real investment in yourself.
Queerdo Rate — $150/hour You're part of the queer community, ready to do the work, and the other rates would be genuinely prohibitive right now.
I trust you to choose honestly. That's the whole system.
Let’s Talk First
Before you commit to anything, let’s have a conversation.
I offer a free 30-minute call to anyone who’s curious. We’ll talk about where you are, what you’re carrying, and whether working together makes sense. No pitch, no pressure — just a real conversation so we can both figure out if this is the right fit.
Want to know more about my background before we talk? Visit my About page.
Ready? Schedule Your Free Call
FAQs
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Grief coaching focuses on your current experience — what grief is doing in your life right now, and how to move through it. Therapy often addresses underlying mental health conditions or past trauma. I have therapeutic training, but our work together is coaching: present-focused, practical, and forward-moving, while leaving room for history when it’s relevant.
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Because grief looks different when you’ve been told your whole life that you shouldn’t have it. Men often carry grief through action, anger, withdrawal, or just quietly falling apart behind closed doors. Specialized support means those patterns are recognized and worked with, not pathologized or pushed past.
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Most men who come to me say this. Part of what we do is find the vocabulary together. There’s no right way to do this. You don’t need to arrive fluent.
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No. Grief resurfaces. Some of the most important grief work I’ve done with clients was around losses from years or decades earlier that had never fully been processed. It’s never too late.
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Most clients find that 4–6 months gives them real traction. But grief doesn’t follow a timeline, and neither does coaching. We’ll check in regularly and adjust based on what you actually need.