Loss is an inevitable part of life. We often associate it with the death of a loved one and the grief that follows, the aching absence, the memories that cling. But as I’ve walked alongside clients in my work as a counsellor, I’ve come to witness just how many other, quieter griefs live within us. Loss doesn’t always announce itself loudly. Sometimes, it lingers in the small, unseen corners of our lives.
We lose in so many ways.
The beloved pet who was more family than animal — their absence leaving a quiet house and a quieter heart. The end of a relationship, whether through a breakup or divorce, can unravel not just shared plans, but the very sense of who we thought we were. Losing a job doesn’t only take away financial security; it often strips away identity, purpose, routine, and connection.
Sometimes it’s a move to a new town, the leaving behind of familiar streets, faces, and routines, a loss of place and belonging. Even the loss of a sentimental object, a necklace from a parent, a photograph from a forgotten time, can leave us unexpectedly bereft. And then there’s the experience of the empty nest, when children grow and leave home, and what remains is a house full of silence and echoes of who we used to be when they were little.
There are the quiet, creeping losses too. The gradual change of ageing, the shift in our bodies and energy, menopause with its subtle yet significant alterations to our sense of self. The diagnosis of an illness, or the onset of disability, which can feel like a betrayal from within — a grief for the future we had envisioned and the version of ourselves we thought would live it.
As human beings, we carry these losses like invisible threads woven into the tapestry of our lives. And what I’ve learned, both personally and professionally, is that the feeling of overwhelming loss is not reserved for death alone.

In humanistic therapy, we honour these losses.
This approach holds that every person’s experience is unique, worthy, and deeply human. It invites us to explore what has been lost and what that loss meant to us — not in comparison to others’ griefs, but in the tender truth of our own hearts.
In therapy, I create a space where no loss is too small, where grief can be processed not as something to ‘get over,’ but as something to gently understand and integrate.
Through open, compassionate dialogue, we would explore what these losses represent for you, identity, connection, love, and your future hopes. Together, we would try and trace pathways towards healing. Sometimes it’s about gaining some kind of acceptance of what has gone. Sometimes it’s about rediscovering ourselves beyond what we’ve lost.
Loss, in all its forms, shapes us. And while it can leave us feeling untethered, it also holds the potential to deepen our understanding of ourselves, our resilience, and our capacity for connection.

From an integrative humanistic perspective, our work can be deeply personal and varied, tailored to what your needs are to move through your loss.
Sometimes that might involve person-centred therapy, offering a non-judgmental, empathic space where you can safely unravel your emotions. Other times, we might weave in Gestalt techniques, for example, inviting you to dialogue with different parts of yourself or your loss. Creative practices like journaling, art-making, or guided visualisations can help give you a voice to feelings that words alone struggle to carry. Body-based awareness, such as breathwork or grounding exercises, may help you reconnect with your physical self when loss may leave you feeling fragmented or numb. The beauty of an integrative approach is its flexibility, I will endeavour to meet you exactly where you are, honouring your individuality, and gently offering you tools and reflections that resonate with your unique experience.

If you’re carrying a quiet grief, know that it matters. You matter. And you don’t have to carry it alone.