I learned firsthand what happens when the life you planned isn’t the one you get.
I spent nearly 30 years in human resources and leadership. I loved my work, and I was good at it. I was also very used to being needed.
Work was demanding. My husband, Jason, worked seven days a week for much of the year. We were raising two kids and living on a farm with a ridiculous number of dogs over the years. There was always something or someone who needed me.
But somewhere in there, I lost touch with myself. In my 30s, I went through a depression and remember feeling like I was living someone else’s life.
This wasn’t what I had imagined for myself.
Maybe you know something about that. Maybe you’ve spent years being the capable one, the person everyone counts on, and somewhere along the way your own wants got quieter and quieter. Mine did too.
This wasn’t what I had imagined for myself.
Maybe you know something about that. Maybe you’ve spent years being the capable one, the person everyone counts on, and somewhere along the way your own wants got quieter and quieter. Mine did too.
By my 40s, I experienced losses that shook me deeply. My best friend died by suicide. A thousand-year flood buried our farm and left behind a physical and emotional mess.
My nervous system was telling me, loudly, that something needed my attention.
I started doing what I can only describe as a TON of work on me. I got curious about my patterns, my beliefs, and the stories I’d been carrying. I reconnected with parts of myself I had tucked away and began paying attention to what filled my cup, what made me feel alive, and what I actually wanted.
Little by little, I could hear myself again.
The chapter I would never have chosen
In 2020, my husband Jason died suddenly. I was heartbroken. My daughter left for college in Hawaii just ten days later, my teenage son was grieving his dad, and there was a farm, a business, dogs, paperwork, and decisions to handle. Not to mention, we were in the midst of a global pandemic.
Somewhere inside me, though, I still wanted to love my life!
That didn’t mean pretending I was okay. It meant staying open to the possibility that heartbreak and a meaningful life could somehow exist together.
Over the next three years, I worked with a coach for widows. And because I have a very curious bone in my body, that also meant learning everything I could about grief. Eventually, that curiosity led me to formal training in grief education, mindful grieving, and somatic practices.
Along the way, I became a bit of a magnet for women who were hurting. Showing up, listening, sharing resources, and sitting with the hard parts instead of trying to make it go away.
You can bring the real stuff here.
The overwhelm.
The anger.
The guilt.
The fear.
The thing you’re embarrassed to admit. The decision you keep putting off. The part of you that wants something different even though you can’t quite explain what “different” means yet.
You don’t have to make any of it prettier before you bring it to me.
I’m deeply curious about people and what’s happening beneath the surface. I’ll listen without judgment, ask questions, notice patterns, and sometimes gently invite you to look at something from another angle.
Depending on what you need, we might use cognitive reframing, mindfulness,, somatics, EFT/tapping, workbooks/journaling, movement, or simply make space to sit with something without trying to make it go away.
Sometimes we’ll laugh. Sometimes you’ll leave with something practical to try. And sometimes the most important thing we can do is slow everything waaaaay down.
“Amy met me where I was and brought me new tools. After being in talk therapy for 10 years, I finally felt like something became unstuck. My energy felt cleaner and clearer.She has this superpower of LOVE. She brings the spiritual, emotional, holistic, practical, factual, magical, and love together in a way that makes me feel seen, supported, and safe.”
Carrie
My Official-ish Bio
Before becoming a life coach and grief guide, I spent nearly 30 years in human resources and leadership, where coaching people through challenges, transitions, and difficult conversations was an integral part of my career.
My training includes certification as a Mindful Grieving Facilitator through the Center for Somatic Grieving, Grief Educator training through David Kessler, and Executive Coach training through Employers Council. I also spent three years as a participant in Mom Goes On, a life coaching program for widows.
Today, I occasionally support grief events at True Nature Healing Arts, where I’ll soon be leading circles as well. I also facilitate grief support through Pathfinders, a nonprofit serving Aspen and the surrounding community. Beyond my grief work, I serve on the board of the Camping & Education Foundation, which creates transformational wilderness experiences for young people.
All of that experience shapes how I show up for the women I work with today. If you think I might be the person you’d like beside you, I’d love to meet you. Come as you are, tell me what’s going on, and we’ll see what kind of support feels right.
All of that experience shapes how I show up for the women I work with today.
If you think I might be the person you’d like beside you, I’d love to meet you. Come as you are, tell me what’s going on, and we’ll see what kind of support feels right.
Schedule a free discovery call
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