resolution

I came to this work slowly.

Over many years—working in law, mediation, and conflict settings shaped by real violence—I kept encountering the same moment: people standing at the edge of something painful or irreversible, trying to say what matters, trying to be taken seriously, and trying to figure out what comes next.

Most systems move too fast for that moment.
They are built to reach decisions, not to help people be heard or make sense of what has happened.

My work grew out of sitting with people where those systems fall short.

Across very different situations—from families who have lost someone to violence, to parents trying to rebuild a future for their child after separation—I saw the same truth: dignity is not restored by pressure, clever arguments, or being pushed into agreement. It is preserved when people are given time, structure, and a fair chance to speak honestly about what they’ve lived through and what they still care about.

Today, I work alongside people after rupture—violence, loss, separation—helping them steady themselves, speak plainly and truthfully, be genuinely heard, and make decisions they can stand behind later.

I don’t rush people.
I don’t tell them what they should want.
I don’t try to smooth over hard truths.

I focus on creating the conditions where clarity can emerge and dignity can be preserved.

This work is quiet, structured, and practical. It is about honoring what was lost, respecting the seriousness of what has happened, and helping people find a way forward that feels honest and workable.

If you’re considering reaching out, you don’t need the right words or a clear plan. We can start with a conversation and see whether this work is a good fit.