Hi, I’m Sarah
I didn’t set out to become a grief coach (does anyone?)
I’ve always been a deep feeler, someone in search of connection and meaning, often absorbing more than I wanted to and feeling more than I thought I should. I tried making meaning through yoga trainings, holistic health coaching, and nutrition certifications, but nothing felt like the thing I was meant for.
Then my mom got sick.
I tried to contain it. I went back to work, checked the boxes, told myself I could manage it.
But when she passed away, I started to feel like I was falling apart. Turns out grief doesn’t stay quiet for long.
A year and a half later, I couldn’t ignore what I was feeling. Everything felt disconnected, and I couldn’t fit myself back into a life that had no room for who I had become. So I left my job to pursue a life more aligned with who I was becoming.
From there, everything shifted. I began asking new questions:
How do I want to spend my time?
What relationships do I want to invest in?
What does it mean to live with loss as part of my life?
Leaning into grief changed my life. It gave me a way to channel my sensitivity into service and to use honesty as a starting point for healing.
That’s what led me to create Keriah Grief Coaching.
Keriah comes from the Jewish ritual of mourning, where mourners tear a piece of cloth to symbolize the tear in the heart when someone passes. But that tearing isn’t just a symbol of pain; it’s a symbol of openness. A way of showing others your heart may be broken, but it’s also open to being filled back up with love and support.
Keriah Coaching was born from that same spirit of openness.
It’s a space where grief is spoken, seen, and supported when it feels too heavy or too scary to carry alone. Through group coaching, workshops, and grief education, I help people who are tired of carrying grief in silence build lives shaped by loss but not defined by it.
At its core, Keriah is about connection: to yourself, to others, and to the truths we so often hide. I am a truth-teller and challenger of norms, and I believe deeply that healing begins when we stop pretending and start speaking what’s real.