I want to take a moment to share a piece of my heart with you—not just the journey that has brought me here, but the love that continues to shape who I am and how I walk alongside others.

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My path has been one of both deep loss and profound transformation. For as long as I can remember, I was told I would never be able to have children. But in 2004, I received what felt like a miraculous gift—I was pregnant. My daughter came into this world with a heart condition called truncus arteriosus, and though she fought with such strength, after two heart surgeries, she left us within three short weeks. In the quiet grief that followed, I experienced another loss—a miscarriage that no one knew about. My heart ached for what was missing, for what I had only begun to know and love.

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I longed to hold life in my arms again, and after years of infertility treatments, I was blessed with a healthy baby boy. My heart expanded even more when, a year later, my daughter was born. While my husband and I were overjoyed, I could not yet see the storm building within him. He carried the invisible wounds of war and personal loss, his heart heavy with guilt and trauma that no amount of love could fully heal.

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In 2015, my world shattered once more—my husband lost his battle with post-traumatic stress, and we lost him to suicide. There are no words to describe the depth of pain, the weight of grief, or the loneliness that followed. I felt guilt, anger, and at times, even relief—relief from the torment that had gripped him for so long. Yet in the midst of it all, I held my family together, even when I felt like I was unraveling myself.

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There were days I didn’t know how we would move forward, but I knew one thing for certain: I would not allow my story to end in brokenness. Instead, I chose to rise. Not because it was easy, but because love calls us to rise. Love reminded me that even in grief, there is growth. That in our deepest wounds, we can discover an even greater strength.

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I turned to my faith, to the people who surrounded us with love, and to the quiet knowing that my story wasn’t over. I began to study, to learn, and to heal. I wanted to understand the depths of trauma, resilience, and the human heart’s ability to transform pain into purpose. I returned to school, not just to gain knowledge, but to truly understand the journey I had walked and to walk alongside others in theirs.

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I know loss. I know heartbreak. But more than anything, I know love. And it is love that changes us. It is love that gives us the strength to keep going, to rediscover who we are, and to embrace a life that honors both our past and our future.

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I am here, not just as a coach, but as someone who deeply understands the valleys of life and the strength it takes to rise from them. I walk this journey with you—not as someone who has all the answers, but as someone who believes in your ability to endure, to heal, and to find meaning again.

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You are not alone. And you are not broken. You are becoming.

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With compassion and love,
Dr. Amanda J. Guin

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