Aditi Loveridge

Aditi Loveridge Grief & Loss Expert | Speaker | Educator | Advocate | Founder & CEO I will SEE you, without judgement, and honour exactly who you are in the moment.

As your lcoach, I will walk along side of you and support you in discovering your inner strength. I will create a safe and sacred space for you to let your guard down, allow the cracks to open, and let in the light. Together we will realize your strength, and unveil the LIFE you have always envisioned

This year asked me to stop. Not gently, either.After burning out in ways I didn’t fully see coming, I chose to step back...
01/08/2026

This year asked me to stop. Not gently, either.

After burning out in ways I didn’t fully see coming, I chose to step back and listen to what my body and my spirit had been trying to say for a long time. The truth is, grief doesn’t disappear simply because we stay busy or keep showing up. It waits. And eventually, it asks to be tended to.

Moving into this new year, I’m choosing a different relationship with grief. One that leaves room for rest, honesty, connection, and small moments of care instead of constant endurance. Not because something is wrong, rather because so much has been carried for so long.

If you’re noticing grief catching up to you too, you’re not alone. There is another way to move forward that doesn’t require abandoning yourself in the process.

✨

My ‘A New Way to Grieve’ workbook was created to support a gentler, healthier relationship with your grief, one microstep at a time. 🌱

Comment **WORKBOOK** below and I’ll send the details straight to your DMs.

One year without my uncle, and I still feel the quiet shock of his absence in ordinary moments. Anniversaries have a way...
01/05/2026

One year without my uncle, and I still feel the quiet shock of his absence in ordinary moments. Anniversaries have a way of collapsing time, pulling the past right up against the present, and reminding us how final loss really is.

Holding him close today, and letting this be a reminder to love out loud, choose presence, and make space for what matters while we still can.

Miss you and love you always Pankajmama. All ways. 🫶🏽

2025 asked a lot of hard things from me. It stretched me and clarified what I can no longer abandon in order to keep goi...
01/01/2026

2025 asked a lot of hard things from me. It stretched me and clarified what I can no longer abandon in order to keep going.

In 2026, I choose to stay ROOTED, nourishing my inner world so I can bloom, create, and become without rushing or abandoning myself.

This looks like listening to my body. Honouring my values. Trusting the quiet knowing that doesn’t need to prove itself, even when the world asks for more, faster, louder.

I’m choosing depth over speed.
Care over urgency.
Growth that unfolds in its own time.

If you feel it stirring too,
what word is waiting to walk with you into the year ahead?

Saying goodbye to 2025.You saw the highlights. What most people didn’t see was the amount of pain and burnout I was carr...
01/01/2026

Saying goodbye to 2025.

You saw the highlights. What most people didn’t see was the amount of pain and burnout I was carrying underneath all the ways I show up. As a solo parent, working more than full time, living with a debilitating disease, I hit a wall no one could see. It came out as a thoughtful message about stepping back, when in reality I was, and still am in many ways, falling apart.

When I lost my first pregnancy, the thing I kept telling myself was, “you will be different. Perhaps you needed to be.” As I move into this new season, I feel that truth again. Changed, tender, becoming someone new because I had to.

This year stretched me beyond belief.
Here’s to the unseen battles, the quiet courage, and to whatever comes next.

A little Friday photo dump. This has been life lately. Connection with humans I adore. Caring for myself in small, stead...
12/19/2025

A little Friday photo dump. This has been life lately.

Connection with humans I adore. Caring for myself in small, steady ways. Building new relationships where inside jokes are already forming and laughter comes more easily than it has in a while.

I’ve been tapping back into my creative side without forcing it, letting play and beauty show up where they want to. I’ve laughed more than I have in a long time and cried the same amount as usual.

Both belong, and I’m making space for all of it.

The holidays have a way of amplifying everything that already hurts, including the absence, the pressure to perform chee...
12/18/2025

The holidays have a way of amplifying everything that already hurts, including the absence, the pressure to perform cheer, and the quiet weight of pretending you’re okay when you’re not.

If you’re quieter this season, opting out more than usual, or simply trying to move through the days without unraveling, you are not broken and you are not doing it wrong.

Grief does not follow the calendar or respect traditions, and it does not ask permission before showing up in the middle of moments that are supposed to feel joyful.

You do not need to explain yourself, manufacture meaning, or turn your pain into something palatable for others, because getting through is enough, and you are allowed to do it in your own way.

than you expected, it makes sense.This season tends to amplify everything. The empty space where another adult used to b...
12/17/2025

than you expected, it makes sense.

This season tends to amplify everything. The empty space where another adult used to be. The added pressure to create magic, manage logistics, and hold everyone’s emotions, often without anyone holding yours.

For many solo parents, grief shows up in layers. Grief for the family structure you imagined. Grief for the support that isn’t there. Grief that exists alongside love, relief, pride, and deep care for your children.

So much of this season requires constant adjusting. New routines. New rhythms. New ways of being together. Even when the change was necessary or chosen, your body and heart still need time to catch up.

You are not failing at the holidays. You are carrying a lot with intention and tenderness.

If you feel slower, quieter, or less festive this year, you are not alone. Your grief belongs here, and so do you.

12/11/2025

This season is reminding me that rest isn’t a retreat from life. It’s a way back home to myself.

There’s a quiet grief in transition. In stepping back from the roles that once held so much of me. In loosening my grip on the version of me who kept showing up no matter the cost.

I’m learning that tending to myself is tending to the work.

That slowing down isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom, it’s care, it’s trust.

I want us to normalize this.

The pause. The softness. The becoming.

To everyone navigating your own season of change, I hope you give yourself permission to rest without apology.

To honour what’s shifting. To feel what’s ready to be felt.

Let’s be the generation that chooses healing, even when the world tells us to keep hustling.

Grief doesn’t show up the same way in every community, and yet our systems keep pretending it does.Most of the grief fra...
12/10/2025

Grief doesn’t show up the same way in every community, and yet our systems keep pretending it does.

Most of the grief frameworks we use today were built by white clinicians, shaped around white experiences, and enforced through white comfort. And when that’s the lens, melanated families are left trying to squeeze their mourning into something that was never designed for them.

This means a Black father crying out after loss gets labelled “disruptive.”
A South Asian family praying together is told to keep quiet.
An Indigenous mother smudging is reprimanded.
Filipino aunties offering food and presence are asked to leave the room.

These aren’t “incidents.” They’re symptoms of a system that treats cultural grief as a problem instead of recognising it as belonging, ancestry, and love.

If we’re going to talk about grief literacy, we have to talk about white supremacy in grief care. Otherwise, we’re just repeating the harm.

And if we want support that actually meets people where they are, we have to be willing to change the narrative instead of protecting the one that’s already failing so many.

What starts to shift when we stop shrinking other people’s grief to fit someone else’s standards?

12/04/2025

Choosing myself has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Leaving a marriage is never simple, never clean, never free from the noise of other people’s opinions. There were voices telling me to try harder. To stay for my kid. To hold it all together no matter the cost.

I know the cost, though.
My body knew it. My spirit knew it. My child felt it too.

Choosing myself wasn’t abandonment. It was alignment. It was deciding that I deserve a life that feels honest and tender and safe. It was trusting that my kid needs a mother who is whole, not a mother who stays small.

This choice has stretched me. Broken me open and remade me. Yet it has also been the clearest act of love I’ve offered myself.

I’m choosing truth over performative strength.
I’m choosing healing over fear.
I’m choosing a life that feels like home.

And maybe that’s what choosing yourself really is.

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Website

https://sogacademy.com/, http://www.pilsc.org/

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