Because part of you knows that another way is possible.

If grief has brought you here: welcome.

Maybe you don't call it grief.

Maybe you just know it as the familiar ache that lives inside; the feeling that has been with you for as long as you can remember.

Maybe you know it as the exhaustion from what feels like a lifelong search for a soft place to land, to belong, for a relationship or a community to call home. A place for your body to rest and relax and to know: I am loved. I am taken care of. And I do not have to work for either of those things because connection meets me where I am.

Maybe you know it as the heartbreak that comes from having lost things that others cannot begin to comprehend. Maybe you are just beginning to comprehend the weight of what’s been lost.

Maybe you know it as the confusion that comes from doing all of the things your therapist and social media and podcasts and self-help books tell you to do. You've heard them say “we need each other” and YOU KNOW! You agree! You're here for it.

Then why, oh why do you still feel so much pain? Why do you continue to seek love where you know you can’t get it? Why do you still feel lonely in the presence of others? Why don't others fully see you? Why do they just want to objectify and take from you?

Maybe you know it as loneliness because you’ve done the thing others tell you to do–to reach out, to find support, to build community–but you’ve found that even folks who are supposed to be trusted others often do not have the capacity or the skills to understand the depth of what you’ve lost, of what you’ve experienced. This just reinforces your sense of isolation and that, once again, you must carry this pain alone.

Maybe you know it as depression or anxiety because on some days, the truth of all of it is just too much. You feel powerless in your ability to feel better–because if effort was the marker of success, you’d have won first prize by now.

Maybe you know it as anger or rage.

Maybe you know it as despair.

Maybe you know it as the shame that accompanies the niggling truth that lives inside: that there is something wrong with you. You are actually the problem. Or else things would be different by now.

Maybe you don’t call it grief. But you know it.

You also know something else: the deep longing for something that is beautiful and whole and good. Even if your body has no sense memory of it, your spirit knows.

You have an inkling somewhere deep inside of you that the love and care and sense of belonging that you never got or once had and went away does exist out there–or else you wouldn't be searching for it.

Knowing that you are loved is your birthright. Whatever your particular flavor of relational trauma, the truth is this: that knowing was taken from you, without consent.

Even if you don’t call it grief, you are welcome here. In your heartbreak, your confusion, your rage, your loneliness, your hope and longing. All of it is important.

Wherever you are, I'd love to meet you there. I'd love to witness you in that place.

Schedule a session with me

I'd love to say: your anger makes sense and of course you're lonely and no, it wasn’t your fault, and there's nothing more I'd love to do than hold your vision and longing with you as you create more space in your body and heart to remember the love that belongs to you.

To hold the truth that another way of relating is possible.

And that it’s possible for you.

my approach

Presence.

You might be thinking: that’s too simple.

But empathic presence is so hard to find in this world (one of the saddest truths I know and have experienced firsthand).

How do I use presence in our work together and how will it give you a different relational experience?

I track my own body and nervous system while interacting with yours.

Because I track my own body and nervous system while interacting with yours, I’m less likely to disassociate or relate to you from my own trauma responses.

Instead, I relate to you with presence, attunement, empathy, and containment; ingredients that lead to the body feeling non-threat. In that state, your body can soften and relax, if even for a moment.

Healing is nothing more than small moments of softening, over and over again.

When your body begins to have an accumulation of these experiences, it’ll have a point of comparison.

It’ll be able to begin to discern: when I’m in session with Grey, this is how it feels to feel open, seen, and safe. When I’m in a work meeting or sitting with my boss or this friend, my body feels tight and constricted–it feels a threat of some kind. That’s important information.

This discernment is HUGE for folks who come from a background with significant relational trauma, including abuse and neglect.

Why? Because when we experience relational ruptures without repair when we are young, we don’t have enough ego strength yet to know that the harm we experienced doesn’t have anything to do with us. We make it about us–make it our fault–in order to survive.

When we don’t uproot these inaccurate narratives, they still govern our adult lives and relationships. We suffer from a lack of self-worth, self-compassion, self-trust, self-advocacy, and self-confidence, which leaves us susceptible to familiar (hurtful, harmful, abusive) ways of relating as adults.

Beginning to understand what harm feels like in the body, naming it as such, and having a different experience to compare it to is instrumental on the healing path.

Still unsure what I’m talking about?

See if you can set your mind aside for a minute.

It’s something that needs to be felt to be understood.

Check in with your body right now: what sensations are arising in your body as you’ve been reading about booking a 1x1 session with me? Just notice. Trust whatever’s coming up.

If your body needs some additional information about who I am, what I do, and what my vibe is before committing to a session, listen to that.

Here are other ways to interact with me:

Credentials and disclaimer

Although I have a master’s degree in Counseling and six years of PhD education in Counseling Psychology, I am not a licensed mental health professional and do not claim to practice as one.

I combine my background and training in counseling with other modalities, frameworks, and worldviews that have been instrumental on my own healing journey, including non-violent communication and somatics.

My work is trauma-informed because I am trauma-informed. As a survivor of chronic abuse and neglect and someone who lives with cPTSD, I understand the deep reaches of complex trauma into every aspect of our lives. I know the impact of trauma on the brain and body.

Who my work is not for:

I do not work with folks in active crisis.

About Grey Doolin

Grey Doolin, M.Ed. (they/them pronouns) is a queer- and trans-identified teacher, writer, musician, and space holder. They teach queer and trans folks the relational skills necessary to create connected, nourishing community.

A radically authentic and rigorous visionary, Grey is a spiritual seeker and devotee of their healing path. They have a master’s degree in Counseling and 6 years of PhD-level training as a therapist. They are a student of parts work, somatics, and nonviolent communication and bring the values and practices of these modalities into their beingness and work in the world.