Unmothered: Making Space for Grief with a Belated Mother’s Day Reflection & Grief Therapy in NYC
Author: Natalie Greenberg, LCSW
In the weeks leading up to Mother’s Day, I noticed an event posted by my yoga studio, Sky Ting, titled “Unmothered.” The name stopped me in my tracks. Hosted by author and activist Rachel Cargle and grief specialist Barri Leiner Grant, this gathering was intended for anyone who finds Mother’s Day emotionally heavy and could benefit from gentle, sacred “remothering.”
The event welcomed those who identify as “unmothered” in any way: through death, estrangement, unfulfilled motherhood, or the conscious choice to remain childfree. It promised a space for reflection, connection, and shared healing through conversation, guided meditation, and writing. Most importantly, it offered a community with others who might understand. As someone offering grief therapy in NYC, I admire spaces that honor these quiet, complicated forms of grief.
The Familiar Pull of Avoidance
However, my initial instinct was to avoid it.
Avoidance is familiar territory for me. But I’ve learned through my training in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and through my work in grief therapy for young adults in NYC that avoidance often shows up when my feelings are too big to hold. Rather than push the discomfort away, I paused and turned toward it with curiosity. What would happen if, instead of retreating, I leaned in?
So I saved the event, sat with it for a few days, and eventually decided to sign up.
Crossing the Threshold of Grief
I arrived on a Friday evening, heart pounding as I stepped into the elevator. I smiled at the others, assuming we were all headed to the same destination. A woman next to me turned and said, “I’m here for the interpretive dance class, how about you?”
Suddenly, I felt exposed and vulnerable. No, not dance. I was there for a grief gathering. Just like that, this stranger knew something deeply personal about me. But once I arrived at the front desk, a familiar face greeted me, someone I’d seen on social media who had also recently lost a mother figure. I felt safe again.
The studio was arranged in a circle, mats and bolsters forming a soft nest. We were handed pens and paper and invited to participate in various journaling prompts. I made a quiet promise to myself: no matter how uncomfortable it got, I would share at least once. I needed the catharsis.
Naming the Shape of Grief
We began with a simple but profound exercise: going around the circle and naming one word that described where our grief was that day. I was second in line to share. With no time to overthink it, the word stuck tumbled out of me. My grief felt stuck: immobile, static, unprocessed.
Throughout the evening, Rachel and Barri led us through guided meditation, poetry readings, and writing prompts focused on memory, longing, and what we wish had been different. Some participants shared often, others remained silent, holding space with their presence. The room was full of nuance: laughter, tears, rawness, and resilience.
Holding Space for Myself as a Grief Therapist
When it came time to share, I spoke.
“I remember my mom scratching my head, her iridescent nail polish catching the light… I remember her 80s high-waisted jeans… her apricot chicken… her anger and rage…” It felt necessary to share the warmth along with the pain.
I told the group that I’m a grief therapist for young adults in NYC, but that my own therapist has been encouraging me to “feel more.” I admitted that I often find it easier to feel through the stories of my clients than my own. Coming to this event was a way of challenging myself to connect with my personal grief, to feel rather than analyze.
As I read my memories, tears came. I hadn’t cried about my mom in a long time. The grief was familiar, but the welcome it received in that room was new.
The Quiet Healing of Being Seen
After the event, a woman approached me. Her mother had also died by suicide, something she rarely shares. But she told me. We talked for a long time about yoga, travel, and the strange landscapes of loss. I felt honored that my vulnerability had made room for hers. That single conversation reminded me why I showed up, not just for myself but for the others who might need someone to simply understand. These are the kinds of moments and themes we often explore in specialized grief counseling for young adults in NYC.
When Mother’s Day arrived, it felt different than years past.
I was able to celebrate with friends and family and focus on the joy of motherhood. I believe this shift happened because I had already grieved the day in advance. I gave the heaviness space to breathe before the celebration began. In that way, the “Unmothered” gathering helped me process both the loss of my mother and my mother-in-law and allowed me to open up to the day's new meaning.
I went to yoga alone at the same studio that morning. Later, I had brunch with my best friend and dinner with my baby and family. It was the perfect blend of solitude, connection, and celebration.
This year, I carried grief and joy side by side—and there was room for both.
Find Grounded Support Through Grief Therapy in NYC
Grief doesn’t follow the calendar, and you don’t have to face it alone. Whether you're processing a complicated Mother’s Day, mourning an unspoken loss, or carrying emotions that feel too big to name, grief therapy for young adults in NYC can help you create space to feel, reflect, and begin healing in your own time.
Here’s how to take the first step:
Schedule a free 15-minute consultation to share what you’re experiencing and learn how grief therapy in NYC can support your journey.
Book your first grief therapy session and begin creating space for your emotions, without pressure, timelines, or expectations.
Feel supported and seen as you move forward with gentleness, clarity, and care.
You deserve a place where your grief has room to breathe. Let’s begin together.
About the Author: A Grief Therapist for Young Adults in NYC
Natalie Greenberg, LCSW, is a grief therapist for young adults in NYC who helps clients navigate the emotional challenges of loss. Her passion for this work began with personal experience—after losing her mother to suicide at age 23, Natalie found solace in therapy and peer support, which inspired her to help others navigate their own grief journeys.
She holds a Master’s in Social Work from New York University and a post-master’s certificate in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. With more than 10 years of experience, Natalie has served in high-impact clinical roles, including at Bellevue Hospital’s Psychiatric Emergency Room, Mount Sinai’s leadership team, and NYU’s Student Health Center. Known for her compassionate presence and approachable style, she now offers online grief therapy in NYC and throughout New York state, making care accessible for those in need.