
Last reviewed: June 2026 by Annie Wright, LMFT
- The Photo She Found in the Drawer
- What Is Post-Exit Parenting Grief?
- The Research on Parenting and the Entrepreneurial Identity
- How Parenting Grief Shows Up After Exit
- The Kids Who Grew Up Alongside the Company
- Both/And: The Work You Did Was Real and The Absence Was Real
- The Systemic Lens: Why Our Culture Assigns Particular Guilt to Mothers Who Chose Work
- The Repair
- FAQs About Parenting Grief After a Founder Exit
Post-exit parenting grief is the specific grief that arrives after a founder leaves her company and confronts what the years of building cost her relationship with her children. It includes guilt over missed milestones and the realization that the children who grew up alongside the company are now older than the founder had imagined. This grief is real and it isn’t the whole story: the model of a driven, building mother has its own gifts. In my work with ambitious post-exit founders, the grief work and the repair work happen simultaneously, and both are necessary.
In short: Post-exit parenting grief is the specific grief that arrives after a founder leaves her company and confronts what the years of building cost her relationship with her children.
With more than 15,000 clinical hours, including significant work with post-exit founders, I’ve seen how the pause after exit creates space for parenting grief that was deferred during the building years. William Worden, PhD, articulated the tasks of mourning that apply to any significant loss, including the non-linear losses of time and presence that driven founders grieve after their exit (Worden 1991).
The Photo She Found in the Drawer
The dust motes danced in the late afternoon light, illuminating the quiet space of a home that was finally, truly, hers again. Not just a house, but a home, now that the company had been acquired and the earn-out period was finally complete. She was packing up the last remnants of her home office, a space that had, for years, been less office and more command center. Deep in the back of a drawer, under a pile of old term sheets and integration plans, her fingers brushed against something smooth and cool. It was a school photo, slightly faded, from six years ago. Her daughter, then a hesitant seven-year-old, gazed out with wide, earnest eyes.
She remembered the day this photo was taken. It had been a Tuesday, a critical board meeting day for her SaaS company, which was then in the throes of a Series B raise. She’d almost missed the photo op, rushing from a pitch deck review straight to the school, hair still slightly disheveled, mind still buzzing with numbers and projections. Her daughter, in the photo, looked a bit lost, a tiny figure in a too-big world. It wasn’t that they were strangers, not exactly. But looking at the image now, with the spaciousness of post-exit time stretching before her, she saw a version of her daughter from a year where the company’s acute crisis had consumed nearly every waking thought. That year, her daughter had experienced her mother as present in body, perhaps, but profoundly absent in spirit.
A sharp, unexpected pang settled in her chest. It wasn’t the kind of grief she knew from the acquisition itself, the complex mix of relief and loss that came with selling the business she’d poured her life into. This was different. This was a quiet, visceral ache for a time that was gone, a childhood moment she’d been physically present for but emotionally elsewhere. The grief arrived not as a dramatic wave, but as a slow, seeping realization, a ledger of missed moments tallied in the silence of an empty house. This was the beginning of her reckoning with the kids she missed.
What Is Post-Exit Parenting Grief?
The period following a founder exit is often anticipated as a time of liberation, a reward for years of relentless effort. For many women founders, however, it can usher in an unexpected and profoundly painful emotional landscape, particularly concerning their children. This is where post-exit parenting grief emerges. It’s a distinct form of grief, different from the sadness of losing the company itself or the identity crisis that can follow. Instead, it centers on the relationship with one’s children, and the sacrifices made during the intense build years.
The retrospective grief about parenting that arrives when the urgency of the founder role is removed and the founder can see, for the first time without the buffer of the company’s demands, what the build years cost her children and her relationship with them.
In plain terms: It’s the sadness that hits you after you sell your company, when you finally have time to look back and realize how much your intense work years impacted your kids and your relationship with them.
This grief is often amplified by what I call “retrospective role loss.” During the intense phase of building a company, particularly for women founders, the parental role can often feel diminished. There’s a constant tension between the demands of the business and the needs of the family. While consciously, this might have been rationalized as a necessary trade-off for a future benefit, post-exit, the reality of those lost moments becomes stark.
The specific grief of realizing, post-exit, that a role (parent) was performed in a diminished way during the build years; the inability to reclaim those years; what remains.
In plain terms: It’s the painful realization after your company is sold that you weren’t the parent you wanted to be during those intense years, and you can’t get that time back. It’s about what’s left behind.
This isn’t merely regret; it’s a profound form of grief because it involves an irreversible loss. The developmental windows of childhood close. The specific moments, the first steps, the school plays, the ordinary afternoons of connection, cannot be re-lived. The version of her children’s childhood that the founder experienced was often partial, fragmented, and seen through the lens of constant professional demands. This realization can be deeply unsettling, creating a void that money, success, or future endeavors cannot easily fill. It’s a key component of the broader identity dissolution many women founders experience after an exit [1].
The Research on Parenting and the Entrepreneurial Identity
The founder phase is characterized by an almost unparalleled level of dedication and sacrifice. For women founders, this often means navigating a complex landscape where the demands of building a company clash with societal expectations of motherhood. This sacrifice structure profoundly impacts parenting. The developmental stages of children, particularly early childhood, often overlap with the most acute build years of a startup, creating a unique set of challenges.
Research on parental availability and long-term attachment security in children consistently highlights the importance of consistent, responsive caregiving [2]. Attachment theory, pioneered by John Bowlby and further developed by Mary Ainsworth, posits that a child’s early experiences with caregivers shape their internal working models of relationships, influencing their sense of self-worth and their ability to form secure attachments throughout life [3]. What constitutes “good enough” parenting, as described by pediatrician and psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott, isn’t about perfection, but about consistent attunement to a child’s needs, providing a secure base from which they can explore the world, and a safe haven to return to [4].
The question for many founders is whether the build years can genuinely meet that “good enough” threshold. While physical presence might be possible at times, emotional and mental availability are often severely constrained. The founder’s mind is frequently elsewhere, consumed by product launches, investor calls, or competitive threats. This isn’t a moral failing; it’s an inherent byproduct of the all-encompassing nature of entrepreneurship.
Bessel van der Kolk, a leading expert on trauma, emphasizes that a parent’s presence, not just physical availability, but emotional attunement, is a key variable in children’s attachment security [5]. He highlights that children are exquisitely sensitive to their caregivers’ emotional states. A founder who is physically present but chronically stressed, distracted, or dysregulated can inadvertently affect her children’s sense of attunement and safety. The child might perceive this emotional distance as a lack of responsiveness, even if the parent is physically nearby. The body keeps the score, not just for the parent, but for the child observing and internalizing the parent’s state [5].
Allan Schore, PhD, neuropsychologist at UCLA and leading researcher on affect regulation and attachment, has shown that the attuned, repeated presence of a caregiver literally shapes a child’s developing right brain. Meaning that the missed moments aren’t merely sentimental losses, but gaps in co-regulatory experience that children do notice and remember in the body.
The relentless pressure to perform, to be “on” constantly, can lead to chronic nervous system dysregulation in founders. This can manifest as hypervigilance, irritability, or emotional numbness. Children, especially young ones, are incredibly skilled at picking up on these subtle cues. They might internalize their parent’s stress, leading to their own difficulties with emotional regulation or a sense of underlying anxiety. This isn’t to say that all children of founders will have attachment issues, but it does highlight the unique challenges and potential costs of this particular life path. The sacrifices made during the founder phase are real, and they extend beyond financial or professional realms, deeply touching the fabric of family life. This can contribute to the unique challenges faced by women founders, who often carry an additional societal burden of being primary emotional caregivers, regardless of professional demands [6].
How Parenting Grief Shows Up After Exit
For many women founders, the post-exit period is the first time in years they have the mental and emotional bandwidth to truly reflect on their parenting during the company-building phase. The noise of operational demands, investor pitches, and team management fades, leaving a quiet space where unspoken anxieties and buried regrets can surface. This reckoning is often triggered by seemingly small moments, or a direct, honest comment from a child.
VIGNETTE: Maya
Maya had sold her ed-tech startup for a healthy nine-figure sum two years prior, a full acquisition that included a 12-month earn-out. Now, she was finally free, enjoying the quiet rhythms of her life in Marin. Her oldest daughter, a college freshman, was home for a long weekend. They were sitting on the porch swing, sipping iced tea, when her daughter casually remarked, “You know, Mom, I don’t really you before we moved to the Bay Area. You were always working.”
The sentence hung in the air, seemingly innocuous, yet it landed like a physical blow to Maya’s chest. It wasn’t accusatory, just a simple, observational statement. But in that moment, Maya felt the full weight of her daughter’s words. She remembered the frantic pace of those years: raising seed rounds, scaling rapidly, dealing with a co-founder dispute, and the constant travel. Her daughter had been eight when they moved to San Francisco, right at the beginning of Maya’s most intense build phase. For her daughter, ‘Mom’ and ‘always working’ were inextricably linked.
The grief that followed wasn’t a slow accumulation; it arrived all at once, a sudden, sharp clarity. It was grief for the version of her daughter’s childhood that Maya had experienced only partially, through a haze of exhaustion and distraction. The ordinary afternoons of homework and playground visits that didn’t happen. The developmental windows that closed, unobserved by a fully present mother. The specific quality of this grief was its irreversibility. She couldn’t give her daughter back those years, those unmade memories. The success of the exit, the financial security it brought, felt hollow in the face of this profound, unfixable loss. It was a grief for time that could not be reclaimed, for a past that was forever marked by her absence, even if that absence was born of ambition and necessity.
This kind of grief is often characterized by a deep yearning for what might have been, for the ordinary moments of connection that were sacrificed at the altar of the company. It’s a profound realization that the past cannot be changed, and that certain developmental stages of a child’s life are now behind them, without the full engagement of the parent. This can lead to feelings of profound sadness, guilt, and a sense of having missed out on a crucial part of their children’s lives. It’s a form of ambiguous loss, where the child is physically present, but the relationship or the shared experience of their childhood feels partially gone or unfulfilled [7]. This experience can contribute to post-exit depression, a phenomenon often overlooked in the narrative of founder success.
The Kids Who Grew Up Alongside the Company
The impact of a founder’s intense dedication during the build years is not uniform across all children. It depends significantly on the specific developmental stages that overlapped with the acute phase of company building. Understanding these overlaps can provide crucial clinical insight into the nature of post-exit parenting grief and the potential for repair.
For children who were very young during the acute build phase, infants, toddlers, and preschoolers, the consequences can be particularly profound. These are the attachment formation years, a critical period when children develop their foundational sense of security, trust, and self-worth through consistent, responsive interactions with their primary caregivers [3]. If a mother is chronically stressed, preoccupied, or physically absent during this time, her child may organize their relationship around her perceived unavailability. This doesn’t necessarily mean overt neglect, but rather a more subtle, yet pervasive, emotional distance. A child might learn to minimize their needs, become overly self-reliant, or develop an insecure attachment style, shaping their future relationships and their own emotional regulation capacities [8]. The body language, the tone of voice, the fleeting moments of presence, these are all registered by the young child’s nervous system.
In my work with clients who gave their best years to building something, I see how the body holds that story. The nervous system doesn’t clock out when the company does. Healing often begins with learning to feel safe in stillness again., Annie Wright, LMFT
Bessel van der Kolk’s emphasis on co-regulation in child development is particularly relevant here [5]. Co-regulation refers to the process by which a child learns to manage their emotions and physiological states through reciprocal interactions with a calm, attuned caregiver. When the primary caregiver is chronically dysregulated, whether due to stress, exhaustion, or the constant demands of a startup, the child’s capacity for healthy co-regulation can be compromised. They might struggle to soothe themselves, experience heightened anxiety, or develop a nervous system that is perpetually on alert. This isn’t about blame, but about understanding the neurobiological realities of early childhood development.
For children who were older during the build years, school-aged children or teenagers, the impact might manifest differently. They may have more explicit memories of the company’s presence in the household: the late-night calls, the weekend work, the canceled family plans. They might have a more cognitive understanding of their mother’s ambition and success, but also a palpable sense of her absence. They might have been enlisted, implicitly or explicitly, to take on more caregiving responsibilities for younger siblings, or to become overly independent. While they might express pride in their mother’s accomplishments, they may also carry a quiet resentment or a feeling of having been secondary to the company.
In my work with post-exit founders, I often see mothers grappling with the realization that their children’s formative years were deeply shaped by the company’s demands. This can lead to a profound sense of guilt and a yearning to “make up for lost time.” However, the past cannot be changed. The work becomes about acknowledging the reality of what was, understanding its impact, and focusing on what is possible for repair and reconnection in the present and future. This requires a deep dive into Internal Family Systems work, helping the founder understand the different parts of herself that were at play during those years.
Both/And: The Work You Did Was Real and The Absence Was Real
One of the most challenging aspects of post-exit parenting grief for women founders is reconciling the undeniable reality of their professional accomplishments with the equally undeniable reality of their perceived parental shortcomings. It’s not an either/or proposition; it’s a profound “both/and.” The work she did to build her company was real, impactful, and often necessitated immense personal sacrifice. And the absence she felt, or that her children felt, was also real. Holding both truths simultaneously, without judgment or minimization, is a critical step in healing.
This reconciliation often begins with honest, courageous conversations with the children themselves. It requires the founder to step into a space of vulnerability, acknowledging the past without defensiveness, and truly listening to her children’s experiences.
VIGNETTE: Jordan
Jordan, a biotech founder who had sold her company for $750M five years prior, was now deeply engaged in active repair work with her two teenage children. The initial post-exit years had been a whirlwind of travel, philanthropy, and trying to figure out her “second act,” leaving little space for this deeper reckoning. But a recent family therapy session had opened the door to conversations she knew she couldn’t avoid. Her children, now 16 and 18, had been 11 and 13 when the company was acquired, meaning their entire adolescence had unfolded during the most intense phases of Jordan’s startup.
One evening, after dinner, she sat down with them, feeling a knot in her stomach. “I know the last few years, when I was building the company, were really hard,” she began, her voice a little shaky. “I wasn’t always present, and I was often stressed. I want to understand what that was like for you. And I want to apologize for the times I wasn’t there in the way you needed me to be.”
Her daughter, the younger of the two, spoke first, quietly. “Yeah, Mom, it was hard. I feeling like the company was your favorite child. You were always on calls, even at dinner. I learned not to bother you.” Her son, typically more reserved, added, “I just got used to you being gone. I thought it was normal for parents to work like that. But sometimes I wished you’d just been… here.”
Jordan listened, tears streaming down her face. She could hold their words, the quiet pain in their voices. What she couldn’t hold, not yet, was her own crushing guilt. But she knew this was the work. The repair work that was possible centered on the present: being truly present now, naming the absence honestly, and asking what they needed from her currently. She started showing up for school events, planning weekend hikes, and making sure dinner was a phone-free zone. She began asking open-ended questions about their days, truly listening to the answers.
The repair work that wasn’t possible, she realized, was reclaiming the years that had passed. She couldn’t rewind time, couldn’t un-miss the school plays or the quiet conversations they’d longed for. “I can’t give them back the years,” she told her therapist. “But I can give them me, now, which is not nothing.” It was a profound truth: the past is immutable, but the present offers fertile ground for reconnection and healing, for building new memories on a foundation of honesty and sustained availability.
This process of “undoing aloneness,” as described in AEDP (Accelerated Experiential Dynamic Psychotherapy) principles, is vital [9]. For years, the founder may have carried the burden of her choices and the perceived impact on her children in isolation. Sharing this burden, acknowledging it with her children, and receiving their truth can be profoundly healing. It’s not about seeking forgiveness, but about fostering understanding and rebuilding trust through authentic connection.
The path forward involves several key elements:
- Honesty: Acknowledging the past without making excuses.
- Presence: Being truly, emotionally, and physically available in the present moment.
- Sustained Availability: This isn’t a one-time conversation but an ongoing commitment to being there for her children.
- Absence of Requiring the Child to Process the Parent’s Grief: It’s crucial that the parent processes her own grief and guilt with professional support, rather than burdening her children with it. The conversations are for the children’s experience to be heard and validated, not for the parent to be absolved.
This is often where therapeutic support becomes invaluable. A therapist can help the founder process her own grief about what was lost, prepare for these difficult but necessary conversations, and support her in the sustained work of being present in a way that doesn’t require the company’s urgency to organize her life. This is a journey that requires immense courage, self-compassion, and a deep commitment to relational repair. It’s about building a new chapter of connection, one moment at a time. This kind of deep work is often why founders seek therapy for female founders.
The Systemic Lens: Why Our Culture Assigns Particular Guilt to Mothers Who Chose Work
It’s impossible to discuss post-exit parenting grief for women founders without applying a systemic lens. Our culture, particularly in Western societies, assigns a specific and often disproportionate burden of guilt to mothers who prioritize their careers, a burden that men in equivalent positions rarely carry. This isn’t an accident; it’s deeply embedded in societal expectations and gender roles.
The expectation that the mother is the primary emotional caregiver, regardless of her professional demands, is pervasive. From the moment a woman becomes a mother, she is bombarded with messages about the importance of her presence, her nurturing, and her sacrifices for her children’s well-being. While these are certainly crucial aspects of parenting, the societal narrative often frames a mother’s career ambition as inherently in conflict with “good” motherhood. When a woman founder builds a company, she is often celebrated for her ambition and success, but simultaneously scrutinized for how it impacts her family life. The “working mother guilt” narrative is applied specifically and intensely to women.
Consider the fathers who built companies in the same years, often with equally demanding schedules, extensive travel, and deep immersion in their businesses. While they might occasionally express regret about missed moments, there is rarely a comparable cultural expectation that they will experience profound parenting grief post-exit. Society tends to view a father’s professional success as a means to provide for his family, a form of caregiving in itself. His absence is often more readily excused or reframed as a necessary contribution to the family’s financial security. For a mother, however, her professional ambition is frequently seen as a personal choice that potentially detracts from her primary role as nurturer.
This gendered double standard creates a unique psychological landscape for women founders. When they finally achieve their liquidity event, the quiet space that follows can be filled with not only personal regret but also the internalized cultural judgment they have absorbed for years. They may feel that they have failed to live up to an idealized version of motherhood, even if their professional achievements are monumental. This can exacerbate feelings of shame and intensify the grief they experience.
The research on gender and entrepreneurship often highlights the unique challenges women founders face in balancing work and family, often without adequate support systems or societal acknowledgment of the systemic pressures [6]. They are expected to be both the visionary CEO and the perfectly attuned mother, a nearly impossible feat. This can lead to what Nagoski and Nagoski call “Human Giver Syndrome,” where women are conditioned to constantly give of themselves to others, leading to burnout and a diminished sense of self [10]. Post-exit, this syndrome can morph into a relentless self-criticism about past parenting choices.
Understanding this systemic context is not about excusing individual choices, but about recognizing the immense, often invisible, pressures that shape those choices. It allows women founders to approach their parenting grief with more self-compassion, acknowledging that they were navigating a complex and often unfair terrain. It also highlights the importance of challenging these narratives, both individually and collectively, to create a more equitable future for women who choose to build, lead, and parent. This systemic burden can also contribute to the founder burnout many women experience, often rooted in childhood patterns of overfunctioning.
The Repair
The question of repair in parent-child relationships post-exit is complex, nuanced, and deeply personal. It’s crucial to acknowledge that while some aspects are indeed repairable, others, particularly the reclamation of lost time, are not. The research on attachment and relational repair offers valuable guidance here: relationships are remarkably resilient, but repair requires specific, sustained effort.
What the research says about the resilience of the parent-child relationship and what is required for repair:
- Honesty and Transparency: As seen with Jordan, open and honest communication about the past, without defensiveness or minimization, is foundational. Children need their experiences to be validated. This aligns with the principles of rupture and repair in attachment theory, where acknowledging a relational misstep and working to mend it can actually strengthen the bond [3].
- Presence and Attunement: Sustained, genuine presence is paramount. This means not just physical proximity, but emotional and mental availability. It involves active listening, responding to bids for connection, and being attuned to a child’s emotional states. This is a stark contrast to the fragmented presence often necessitated during the build years.
- Sustained Availability: Repair is not a one-time event; it’s an ongoing process. It requires consistent effort over time, demonstrating through actions that the parent is now reliably available. This helps to rebuild trust and create a new relational narrative.
- Absence of Requiring the Child to Process the Parent’s Grief: This is a critical distinction. The repair conversations are for the child’s healing, not the parent’s. The founder’s own grief, guilt, and regret must be processed with a therapist or trusted confidante, not placed on the child. Placing this burden on a child can inadvertently create a new form of emotional strain.
- New Shared Experiences: Creating new, positive shared experiences helps to build a new relational history. These don’t have to be grand gestures; often, the most impactful moments are the ordinary ones: cooking together, going for walks, sharing quiet conversations. These moments contribute to an updated autobiographical memory for both parent and child [11].
This is where therapy can be profoundly helpful for the founder.
- Processing the Founder’s Own Grief: A therapist can provide a safe, confidential space for the founder to grieve what was lost, the version of motherhood she envisioned, the moments she missed, the impact on her children. This processing is essential so that she can engage in repair conversations from a place of emotional regulation, rather than overwhelming guilt or shame.
- Preparation for Repair Conversations: A therapist can help the founder prepare for these difficult conversations with her children, guiding her on how to listen, how to apologize authentically, and how to set appropriate boundaries. This might involve role-playing or exploring potential emotional triggers.
- Sustained Work of Being Present: For many founders, the relentless pace of entrepreneurship has become deeply ingrained in their nervous system. Learning to slow down, to be present without the urgency of a company organizing their every move, is a significant undertaking. Therapy can support this somatic and emotional re-calibration, helping the founder to regulate her nervous system and cultivate a more grounded presence. This often involves techniques from Polyvagal Theory, helping the body to register safety [12].
- Re-evaluating Identity: Post-exit, many women founders experience a profound identity shift. Therapy can help them integrate their past achievements with their evolving sense of self, moving beyond the “company-as-identity” to a more holistic, resilient identity that includes their role as a parent [1].
The repair is not about erasing the past, but about acknowledging it, learning from it, and consciously building a new, more connected present and future. It’s about demonstrating, through consistent effort and authentic presence, that the parent is now available in a way she couldn’t be before. It is a testament to the enduring power of love and the human capacity for growth and change, even after profound loss. This is why many women founders seek executive coaching for career transitions and holistic support during this time.
What is the difference between regret and parenting grief after an exit?
Regret often involves wishing a past action had been different. Parenting grief after an exit is a deeper, more profound form of loss. It’s the realization that specific, irreplaceable developmental windows of a child’s life are gone, and the parent was not fully present for them, leading to an irreversible sense of absence and yearning for what cannot be reclaimed. It’s a form of ambiguous loss, where the child is present but the shared past feels diminished [7].
How can I talk to my children about my absence during the build years?
Approach the conversation with honesty, vulnerability, and a genuine desire to listen. Acknowledge your absence and express your regret without making excuses. Focus on validating their experiences and feelings. Ask open-ended questions about what it was like for them. Most importantly, do not expect them to process your grief; that is work for you to do with a therapist. The goal is understanding and reconnection, not absolution [9].
Is it possible to repair the relationship with my children after years of being emotionally absent?
Yes, repair is absolutely possible, though it requires sustained effort and a realistic understanding that the past cannot be erased. Focus on consistent, genuine presence in the now. Engage in active listening, create new shared experiences, and demonstrate through your actions that you are now reliably available. This consistent effort helps to rebuild trust and create a new, positive relational history [3].
What if my children are adults now? Is it too late for repair?
It is never too late for repair, regardless of your children’s age. Adult children may have a more mature capacity to understand your past choices and engage in deeper conversations. The principles remain the same: honesty, active listening, validation of their experience, and consistent, present-day effort to build a new relationship based on mutual respect and genuine connection. The nature of the repair might shift, focusing more on adult-to-adult relationship building.
How can therapy help me with post-exit parenting grief?
Therapy can provide a safe space to process your own grief, guilt, and regret without burdening your children. A therapist can help you understand the impact of your past choices, prepare for difficult conversations with your children, and develop strategies for cultivating genuine presence and emotional regulation. It can also support you in integrating your identity post-exit, moving beyond the company to a more holistic sense of self that includes your role as a parent [1].
Ways to Work With Annie
- Conroy, Samantha A., and Anne M. O’Leary-Kelly. “Letting Go and Moving On: Work-Related Identity Loss and Recovery.” Academy of Management Review, 2014. https://www.jstor.org/stable/43699200
- Fraley, R. Chris. “Adult Attachment Theory and Research: A Brief Overview.” University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, 2019. https://labs.psychology.illinois.edu/~rcfraley/attachment.htm
- Bowlby, John. Attachment and Loss, Vol. 1: Attachment. Attachment and Loss. New York: Basic Books, 1969.
- Winnicott, Donald W. “Transitional Objects and Transitional Phenomena.” In Playing and Reality, 1, 25. London: Tavistock Publications, 1971.
- van der Kolk, Bessel A. The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma. Viking, 2014.
- Nagoski, Emily, and Amelia Nagoski. Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle. Ballantine Books, 2019.
- Boss, Pauline. Ambiguous Loss: Learning to Live with Unresolved Grief. Harvard University Press, 1999.
- Siegel, Daniel J. The Developing Mind: How Relationships and the Brain Interact to Shape Who We Are. Guilford Press, 2012.
- AEDP Institute. “AEDP Psychotherapy.” Accessed May 15, 2026. https://aedpinstitute.org/about-aedp/
- Nagoski, Emily, and Amelia Nagoski. Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle. Ballantine Books, 2019.
- Bellet, Benjamin W., Michael K. Scherer, Paul R. Coifman, M. Katherine Shear, and George A. Bonanno. “Identity Confusion in Complicated Grief: A Closer Look.” Journal of Abnormal Psychology 129, no. 5 (2020): 466, 78. doi:10.1037/abn0000520.
- Porges, Stephen W. “Polyvagal Theory: A Science of Safety.” Frontiers in Integrative Neuroscience, 2022. https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fnint.2022.871227/full
References
Peer-Reviewed Research (Vancouver)
- Schore AN. The Interpersonal Neurobiology of Intersubjectivity. Front Psychol. 2021;12:648616. doi:10.3389/fpsyg.2021.648616. PMID: 33959077.
- Bowlby J. Attachment and loss: retrospect and prospect. Am J Orthopsychiatry. 1982;52(4):664-678. doi:10.1111/j.1939-0025.1982.tb01456.x. PMID: 7148988.
- van der Kolk BA, Wang JB, Yehuda R, Bedrosian L, Coker AR, Harrison C, et al. Effects of MDMA-assisted therapy for PTSD on self-experience. PLoS One. 2024;19(1):e0295926. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0295926. PMID: 38198456.
Books & Cultural Sources (Chicago Author-Date)
- Ainsworth, Mary D. Salter. Patterns of attachment. Erlbaum, 1978.
- Winnicott, D.W.. Playing and reality. Penguin, 1971.
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Annie Wright is a licensed psychotherapist (LMFT #95719) and trauma-informed executive coach with over 15,000 clinical hours. She works with driven women. Including Silicon Valley leaders, physicians, and entrepreneurs. In repairing the psychological foundations beneath their impressive lives. Annie is the founder and former CEO of Evergreen Counseling, a multimillion-dollar trauma-informed therapy center she built, scaled, and successfully exited. A regular contributor to Psychology Today, her expert commentary has appeared in USA Today, Forbes, Business Insider, Inc., NBC, and The Information. She is currently writing her first book with W.W. Norton.
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