On Being a Therapist While Grieving

This summer, I lost two people who were important to me. I’m still figuring out how to talk about it—and how to talk about being a therapist while grieving.

The grief has felt unfamiliar in its depth and in the way it has woven itself through ordinary life.

Table of Contents

• When grief and new beginnings happen together
• Being a therapist while grieving
• Common humanity and grief
• Making room for all of it
• A gentle check-in
• Questions about grief and self-compassion

When Grief and New Beginnings Happen Together

At the same time my family was facing a crisis in another state, my daughter was starting kindergarten. I wanted to be with my family through what was happening there. I also wanted to be fully here with my daughter for this big beginning in her life.

There was no way to do both exactly as I wanted to.

I moved between phone calls, travel, time with family, and the routines of home. I was trying to take in what was happening while still making breakfast, showing up for my children, and marking a milestone I had imagined for years.

Some moments were full of love and excitement. Others were devastating. Sometimes they were only minutes apart.

Being a Therapist While Grieving

And through parts of this, I was also working and seeing clients.

I’ve spent years sitting with people through grief, fear, uncertainty, and change. This summer, I was doing that while carrying my own grief into the day. I would prepare for a session, be present with the person in front of me, and then return to the news and feelings waiting outside that hour.

It was excruciatingly difficult at times. It was also, in a way I didn’t expect, connecting.

I don’t mean that my grief gave me a special understanding of anyone else’s. Each loss and each relationship is its own. And the therapy room was still my clients’ space, not a place for me to process what was happening in my life.

But my experience made something I have always believed feel less like an idea and more like a truth I could feel in my bones: we are all human at the end of the day.

We are all trying to love people, live our lives, and find our footing when something unexpected crashes into our lives.

Common Humanity and Grief

Psychologist Kristin Neff calls the recognition that pain is part of our shared human experience common humanity. It’s one part of her work on self-compassion: remembering, especially when we feel isolated, that suffering doesn’t set us apart from everyone else.

That idea has stayed with me. It doesn’t make grief easier and it certainly doesn’t mean everyone’s pain is the same. But it has helped me feel less alone in the strangeness of continuing to live while grieving.

I could be grateful to witness my daughter begin kindergarten and heartbroken about what my family was going through. I could care deeply about what my clients are telling me and need to care for myself. I could have moments of peace followed by moments of overwhelming sadness and anxiety.

Making Room for All of It

Being human is hard and weird and beautiful.

We hold beginnings and endings at the same time, even when we wish life would give us room to face just one thing at a time.

I’m still learning how to make room for all of it. For now, common humanity feels like a place to start: a reminder to meet my own grief with the kindness I would offer someone else, and to remember that none of us is spared the suffering of life. That might feel hopeless to some, but for me it is connecting.

Check in with yourself

If you’re carrying grief alongside the responsibilities of everyday life, you might pause and ask yourself:

• What am I asking myself to hold today?
• Is there one expectation I could loosen my grip on?
• What would I tell someone I care about in this situation?
• Who could I let know that today feels hard for me?

You don’t have to answer every question or turn this into yet another task. One small act of kindness toward yourself can be a great place to start.

Questions About Grief and Self-Compassion

What does common humanity mean?

In Kristin Neff’s self-compassion framework, common humanity means recognizing that struggle is part of being human. Our experiences are different, but we do not have to see our pain as evidence that we are alone or somehow failing.

Does feeling joy mean I’m grieving less?

For me, feeling excitement about my daughter starting kindergarten did not negate my sadness. Both feelings were present. I’m learning to let a meaningful moment be meaningful without asking it to prove anything about my loss.

What can self-compassion look like while grieving?

It can begin with acknowledging that something hurts and asking what you need in that moment. That might mean lessening an expectation, asking for company, or allowing yourself a quiet moment without judging how you feel.

You Deserve Support, Too

If this resonates with you, you’re welcome to reach out to our team to learn more about working together. You don’t need to have the right words or a clear understanding of your grief to begin a conversation. We’re all human here.