Welcome to The Place That Grief Made
Born from loss, rooted in love, and in honour of Kahlia
A space for stories, love, and survival after loss.
You didn’t land here by accident.
You’re here because something tore your world apart, and you needed a place where that truth could be spoken out loud.
Maybe it was a loss.
Maybe it’s someone you love who’s grieving.
Maybe you’re a therapist, a friend, a parent; trying to understand what this ache really is.
Or maybe the silence around death just got too loud.
Whatever brought you here, you needed a space where things don’t have to be okay to be real.
This is that space.
This is where I lay it down, the rage, the ache, the softness, the survival.
This is where I tell the truth about loss in a world that keeps asking you to move on.
You won’t find neat stages here.
No five steps. No silver linings.
But if you’re looking for a place to sit with your sorrow, to let it breathe; then your home.
This isn’t a site about grief.
It’s a site that grieves with you.
So come in.
Stay as long as you need.
There’s coffee on the table, no pressure to speak, and absolutely no need to pretend.
Just a hand to hold.
A space to fall apart.
And someone to remind you:
You don’t have to be any version of yourself other than the one that’s here right now.
Raw. Tender. Messy. Surviving.
- Kirsten
What’s New in This Space
Small updates, big feelings - the latest from The Place That Grief Made.
There’s a quiet kind of anticipation in the air.
The first printed copy of The Year After Kahlia is on its way; a book born from love, loss, and the long work of remembering.
This week also marks eighteen months without her. Eighteen months of learning that absence doesn’t mean gone; that she’s still here, just in different ways.
Over on the blog, I’ve written about that truth in “Eighteen Months Without Her (And Somehow Still With Her).” It’s about how love reshapes itself, how grief keeps teaching, and how healing often lives in the waiting.
Thank you for walking beside me through all the chapters - the ones already written, and the ones still finding their voice.
For more gentle reminders and reflections follow along @theplacegriefmade on Instagram or join us on Facebook at The Place Grief Made