Welcome to Grief on Purpose
We Wish You Didn’t Need Us, But We’re Grateful You’re Here.
Grief On Purpose is what happens when you stop trying to fix or move on from your grief—and you start learning how to live with it.
In many ways, it’s a rebellion. A rebellion against silence. Against sugarcoating. Against the idea that grief has an expiration date.
We’re a trauma-informed grief support space created by people who’ve been through it—raw, unfiltered, and forever changed. Through courses, community, journals, and storytelling, we help you navigate life after death with honesty, care, and a whole lot of heart.
If you’re tired of pretending you’re fine, if you want grief support that doesn’t talk down to you or rush your process — you’re in the right place. Thank you for finding us.
Laura’s Story
(the short version)
I never planned to do this work. In fact, I never really planned to do much of anything.
I didn’t have a five-year plan or a calling. I had retail jobs, restaurant shifts, and a lot of floating.
Then, when I was 21, I got a phone call that split my life in two: my dad had died by suicide.
It was shocking. And not.
He had struggled for a long time. He’d even talked about it before. But knowing something is possible doesn’t make it any less devastating when it happens.
I coped the only way I knew how—by not coping.
I moved out of state, moved in with my boyfriend, and moved on… at least on the outside. Internally? I slammed the door on grief and kept going.
Five years later, another phone call. This one broke me open.
My best friend—my on-again/off-again partner, my person—had died of a heroin overdose.
There aren’t really words for what that kind of loss does to you. I didn’t think I could survive it. And honestly, for a while, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
That kind of grief doesn’t politely sit in the background. It takes over. It changes everything.
I searched everywhere for support. I tried so many therapists, but most felt like they were trying to fix me. Patch me up. Move me along.
But my grief didn’t need a fix—it needed to be witnessed.
I remember thinking: We can do better than this. We have to.
So I decided to become the kind of support I wish I’d had.
Now, after years of graduate school, clinical work, trauma trainings, and some serious soul excavation, I offer grief and trauma support that doesn’t flinch.
I know what it’s like to live through the unthinkable.
I know how isolating it can be to carry a loss that others can’t handle.
And I know that healing doesn’t come from being “fixed”—it comes from being held, heard, and slowly, gently, finding your way forward.
This work isn’t just professional for me. It’s personal.
And it would be an honor to walk with you through whatever you're carrying.
Off the Clock (Sort Of)
When I’m not deep in conversation about grief, healing, or the human condition, you can probably find me barefoot, in sweat pants, nose in a novel, or sweating it out in a hot yoga class (that’s where most of my best ideas land, anyway).
I’m a long-time yoga practitioner (and a retired yoga teacher), a fiction junkie, and a regular visitor to the spiritual realms. I live with two dogs—Bisbee and Rio—who are way more emotionally intelligent than most people.
I’m a left-handed, oldest-child Pisces with introvert wiring, empath-level sensitivity, and a neurodivergent brain that refuses to do anything the “normal” way (bless it).
I lead with intuition, I feel everything deeply, and I believe healing happens in the small, weird, sacred, magical moments of everyday life.