When and why did you decide to become an end-of-life doula?  

My journey to becoming an end-of-life doula is deeply rooted in my personal experience as a survivor of traumatic events, which have profoundly shaped my relationship with life and mortality. Finding purpose in those experiences, coupled with my academic background in religion and psychology, has given me a unique lens through which I view the complexities of death and dying.

In addition, living with the daily challenges of pain due to chronic Lyme disease and autoimmune complexities has further deepened my empathy and understanding of suffering, resilience, and the importance of compassionate care. These experiences have taught me the value of being present with others in their own pain and have fueled my commitment to creating safe, supportive spaces for those nearing the end of life. 

As a handful of friends and loved ones faced the end of their lives, I always found myself drawn to their sides, instinctively holding space with meaningful curiosity and compassion rather than shying away in fear or discomfort. After supporting my best friend and witnessing the passing of her mother, Ellen Diamond, I was inspired to explore the resources available for end-of-life care in February of 2022. That is when I learned of the concept of an end-of-life doula and instantly knew I had found my calling. Thus began my initial training as a death doula. I never could have fathomed the sacred privilege of being present in life’s final moments, to witness humanity in its most vulnerable and authentic state, a profound intimacy. Sitting with the dying is not about facing darkness, but about holding space for the light. 

What is your pathway to practicing as a doula?

At this moment, my path as a doula feels deeply spiritual, with a strong focus on vigil planning and imminent times. I am especially drawn to those who have no family, ensuring that every person has the opportunity to die with serenity and tender fortitude. Death work isn’t about shepherding someone toward an ending, but about bearing witness to a life’s final chapter being written with dignity and grace. Everyone deserves that chance. Serendipitously, the needs for a death doula continue to present themselves in various forms, and I will walk this path with an open heart and mind.

What type of environment do you work in?

I work in the environments where my clients feel most comfortable—at their bedside, in their homes, or other places where they find peace. I’ve supported individuals in hospitals, nursing homes, and assisted living facilities. I also offer support through phone and video calls to ensure connection, no matter the distance.

What do you do before you meet with a new client?

Before meeting with a new client, I ensure I have a basic understanding of their situation and the reasons they or their family or caregiver have reached out to me. This information is often gathered during our initial call.

To prepare myself, I prioritize self-care practices that ground me and help me approach the meeting with a clear and open mind. I engage in a personal ritual that includes music, meditation, and energy-clearing techniques to create a sense of inner calm, protection, guidance, and grounding. This process also involves consciously removing my ego, allowing me to fully focus on their needs without any personal biases or preconceptions. This preparation ensures I am fully present, empathetic, and ready to meet them where they are in their journey.

Can you share a short anecdote or insight that changed you?

One of the most transformative moments in my journey as an end-of-life doula occurred when my best friend and spiritual mentor—Andre Mingo, aka Good Day Dre—was dying. I didn’t want him to face the end of his life alone, without proper resources or support, so I pushed hard to make sure he understood his options. But he grew increasingly angry with me, and I couldn’t understand why.

I was so focused on helping him the way I believed was best that I failed to support him in the way he needed. That’s when I realized I was operating from a place of ego, rather than actively listening to him. It was a humbling moment, one that opened my eyes to the challenges caregivers face when their desire to help conflicts with the dying person’s wishes.

With time, I came to understand that he was deeply afraid and resisting the inevitability of death. What he needed most wasn’t my plans or solutions—he needed to feel heard, seen, and supported on his terms. This experience taught me the vital importance of meeting the dying exactly where they are and prioritizing their wishes, even when it’s difficult for caregivers to let go of what we think is best.

Now, I carry this lesson with me in all my work. I always advocate for the dying person’s right to have their experience their way, and I share this insight with caregivers to help them navigate the complex emotions and challenges of end-of-life care.

Who has been one of your teachers or mentors?

Hands-on: I find myself wanting to honor every person by name, giving them shout-outs to continue their legacies. My grandparents Harry (age 93) and Mary (age 106), childhood friend David Cupak (age 22), best friend and spiritual mentor Andre Mingo, aka Good Day Dre (age 74), cheerful warrior Lorre Cheely (age 55), as well as every person I have had the honor of supporting as a death doula. Each experience has offered invaluable lessons in presence, compassion, and humility. Each person has taught me something uniquely different as a death doula. Their essence and wisdom stay with me.

On becoming a doula: My formal training and mentorship come from INELDA’s incredible team of teachers—specifically, Claudette Peterson, Garrett Drew Ellis, and Anthea Grimason—who provided a strong foundation for my practice. Additionally, I’ve learned valuable lessons from Lynn Principe, a local end-of-life doula, whose guidance and expertise have been inspiring.

What do you wish you had known when you started as a doula?

When I began my journey as a death doula, I had the best intentions—to bring comfort, guidance, and support to the dying and their loved ones. But in hindsight, I see how my ego subtly influenced my approach. I believed that my way of providing care was of great purpose. This wasn’t arrogance; it came from a deep desire to help, but it sometimes led me to push ideas or solutions that weren’t aligned with the true needs of the person I was supporting. 

For example, I sometimes found myself wanting to “fix” things—whether it was a difficult family dynamic or an unmet emotional need. But death isn’t something to be “fixed.” It’s a deeply personal journey, and what someone needs most is not a solution, but a witness—someone to see and hear them exactly as they are.

This lesson has profoundly shaped my practice. Now, I approach every interaction with humility and curiosity. I’ve learned to leave my ego at the door and to trust that the dying person knows what is best for their journey. My role is to honor, advocate, and share space for the dying.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow doulas?

Your work embodies the deeper meaning of companionship and care. You choose to walk alongside those making their final journey, offering your presence with grace, courage, and unwavering compassion. Your gentle guidance helps families navigate unfamiliar territory. Your listening ear receives precious stories and memories that might otherwise go unspoken. Your steady presence provides comfort in moments of uncertainty. Some days will feel heavier than others. Small gestures matter. Sometimes just holding space in silence is most important. Your role requires tremendous emotional strength, so please be gentle with yourself.  Take time to process, to grieve, to restore your spirit. This work can only be sustained when we tend to our own well-being with the same care we offer others. Much love! 

What is your vision for your practice?

My dream is to see a shift within the hospice industry, particularly in my community, to include paid doula positions as part of the standard care team. This change would not only validate the work of doulas but also ensure that this sacred, transformative care is sustainable and widely accessible. By advocating for paid doula work, we can create a future where every dying person, regardless of financial resources, has access to the full spectrum of care they deserve. It is time for the health care and hospice industry to embrace doulas as essential, compensated partners in the journey of dying with dignity, grace, and support.