Willow & Tide

Life knocked you sideways? This is where you find steady ground again.
Coaching built on self-compassion, for real people in the middle of genuinely hard things.

A woman with blonde hair and glasses sitting on a white couch, holding a white mug, in a bright living room with white walls, a wooden shelf with books and potted plants, a large framed quote on the wall, a brass desk lamp, and a marble-top coffee table with candles and decorative plants.

Here's what I believe.

You deserve a good life. Right now, today, before you've fixed a single thing on the list. And I don't mean the grim satisfaction of surviving another day. I mean the actual good stuff. Coffee that tastes like hazelnuts and a hint of chocolate. A laugh that catches you off guard. An afternoon that doesn't feel like a grit-your-teeth-and-get-through-it kind of thing.

And the version of you who used to know that, the one who spoke her mind without censoring everything to make sure it wasn’t going to ruffle feathers, she's still in there. A bit dusty, maybe. But still there.

I've spent 20 years living with chronic pain and feelings big enough to take me out at the knees, so I'm not handing you wisdom from a serene mountaintop. I've cried at the dog park. I've bailed on things I was genuinely looking forward to because getting dressed felt like a triathlon. I'm on the same ground you're standing on, and I know it well.

So bring me the parts of yourself you don’t share on Instagram. The 2 am thoughts, the resentments you're not proud of, the whole unedited version. I won't flinch, and I won't hand you a worksheet about it either.

I trust my gut as much as any clever technique, and I'll keep nudging you to trust your gut too. And I'll always leave the door open for a laugh. The real kind that sneaks up on you halfway through a good cry and reminds you there's still a whole person under all this.

Because you were never the victim of this story, you're the one holding the pen.

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A woman with blonde hair drinking coffee from a mug near a window with rain droplets on the glass, daytime, curtains on the side, trees blurred outside.

When you're in the thick of it, you don't need a lecture. You need a map.

Surviving a Personal Crisis is a free workbook for the days when getting through feels like a lot to ask. Eight steps to help you find solid ground when it feels like you’re walking on jello. It won't fix your whole life (I checked, no magic wands in the box). It's just something steady to hold while you work out what comes next.

Pop your email in, and I'll send it over. After that, you'll hear from me here and there, honest and warm, the kind of email you might actually want to open. Leave whenever you like, no hard feelings.

Wherever you are, there's a way in.

A woman with dark hair reading a book while sitting on a pink couch with orange and yellow patterned cushions. She is wearing a white long-sleeve top, and a white fluffy rug is on the floor next to her.

The Compassionate Recovery Kit

For the ones who'd rather work things out solo, at the kitchen table, at 6 am or 11 pm or whenever the house finally goes quiet. This kit has six modules that carry you from “why am I so hard on myself” all the way to building a life that actually feels kinder to live in.

You get the teaching, the prompts, the practices, a deck of mantra cards, a companion email for each module, and a 30-day calendar so you're never wondering where to begin. Think of it as coaching you can keep on the shelf and pull down whenever you need it.

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Individual Coaching

Sometimes you don't want to sort it out alone. You want someone in your corner who actually gets it, who won't judge when you tell them what you’re really thinking. This is a space to say the thing out loud, untangle whatever's been sitting on your chest, and work out your next move with someone steady beside you. I

t isn't therapy, and I'll always be straight with you about that. It's practical, grounded support for getting through the hard part and building back, at your pace and on your terms.

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Group Coaching (Coming 2027)

There's a particular kind of relief in a room full of people who just get it, where nobody needs the backstory explained.

Group coaching is in the works for 2027, a place to do this alongside others finding their footing too. A little less of that carrying-it-all-alone feeling, a little more of the thank-God-I’m-not-the-only-one feeling.

Want to know the second the doors open? Get on the email list, and you'll hear it from me first.

A woman with tattoos on her legs is lying on her stomach on the wooden floor, reading a book. She is wearing a baseball cap, a black tank top, and patterned shorts. Sunlight streams through large windows with blue curtains in a cozy, sunlit living room.

Big Feelings Aren’t Just For Grownups

The Book Shop has a growing shelf of children's books that treat kids' emotions as messages worth listening to, rather than tantrums to shut down. Gentle stories for building emotional smarts early, the sort of thing you wish someone had handed you at that age.

Hi, I’m Claire.

A woman with long brown hair, glasses, and earrings smiling in a room. Behind her is a wooden cabinet with a mirror, birdcages, and family photos. The room has beige walls, a chandelier, and wooden trim.

For a long time, I was very good at not needing anything. I could hold everyone else's feelings and stay a total stranger to my own. Then life did what life does. A car accident, a marriage I finally walked away from, and a childhood that never taught me what to do with a big feeling. Somewhere in the middle of all of it, I learned the thing I now teach: your feelings aren't a problem to fix. They're messengers worth listening to.

I'm a resilience and self-compassion coach, a children's book author, and a deeply devoted dog person. I've spent twenty-odd years learning this stuff the hard way, and I'd love to make the road a little shorter for you.

Testimonials

Some Company for the Hard Days

Not ready to put a ring on it? I totally get that. We can meet in your inbox instead. Once in a while, I’ll send a note worth reading. A bit of encouragement, an honest thought, the occasional nudge when you need one. Warm and real, and easy to leave if it's ever not your thing.

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Come Say Hi On Socials

It's the everyday, lower-stakes version of all this, and a good place to get a feel for whether we click before you go any further.