Today we’d like to introduce you to Jacquie Pershing, LCSW.
Hi Jacquie, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
Whew, big question. Honestly, my path into this work is deeply personal. I often say I didn’t choose grief work as much as it chose me.
Grief has been a quiet companion in my life for a long time. I grew up watching both of my parents live with chronic illness. I experienced my dad’s death, and later, my mom’s death after years of Alzheimer’s. And Alzheimer’s is its own kind of heartbreak. You begin grieving long before someone is gone. You are witnessing change in real time, constantly adjusting to who your person is becoming, while still holding onto who they’ve been.
I also grieved the loss of the young adulthood I once imagined for myself. Caring for a mother with early-onset Alzheimer’s reshaped my life in ways I never could have predicted. There was grief not only for my mom, but for the future I thought I was stepping into. I had to slowly come to terms with a life that looked very different than the one I had pictured.
Somewhere along the way, I started to notice something that stayed with me. So much grief goes unspoken. So much death gets avoided. I remember feeling that quiet, unspoken “we don’t talk about that” energy all around me. And that shaped me. It’s a big part of why I care so deeply about helping us move from being grief and death-illiterate to grief and death-literate. I want grief to be allowed. I want death to be something we can actually speak about, not something we tiptoe around.
Before becoming a therapist, I spent about eight years working in banking, which always surprises people. It wasn’t my dream job, but I loved the human side of it. I loved connecting, building trust, being in community, and helping people feel more confident in their financial lives. Then my mom died in 2010, and I had one of those moments where everything comes into focus. I knew I couldn’t keep doing work that didn’t feel aligned with who I was becoming. So I went back to school, starting at community college, earning my bachelor’s degree at Cal State Monterey Bay, and later completing my Master’s in Social Welfare at UCLA.
From there, I moved through a range of spaces: skilled nursing and memory care, homelessness outreach, foster youth services, community mental health, and about five years as a school social worker. Each chapter stretched me in different ways. Each one deepened my belief that healing happens in relationship and reminded me, over and over again, how resilient people are, even in the middle of the unimaginable.
In May 2024, I opened Healing Heart Therapy Co., my private practice supporting adults navigating grief, trauma, and life transitions. My approach is integrative and holistic because insight alone is not always enough. Our bodies carry our experiences, too. So I incorporate brain-body work like brainspotting, along with movement, creativity, music, and play. And yes, I really do mean play. I grew up dancing and performing, and that creative part of me is still central to my own healing, so it feels natural to weave it into the work when it fits.
At the end of the day, I believe in honest conversations about death, deep belly laughter, time in nature, creativity, and spaces where people don’t have to pretend they’re okay. Places where they can show up as they are, and be met there.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
Has it been smooth? Not even close. And honestly, I don’t know anyone doing meaningful work who’s had a perfectly smooth road.
On the personal side, I became a caregiver to my mom at a young age. I often say Alzheimer’s helped raise me, and that experience shaped me in ways I’m still uncovering. It brought emotional and financial stress, identity shifts, and that disorienting feeling of being both very young and not young at all at the same time. Back then, I didn’t always have the language for what I was carrying. It was lonely in a way that’s hard to explain, being surrounded by people, but still feeling like no one quite understood. And I definitely didn’t always have a lot of support.
That experience lives in how I show up now. I understand how isolating grief can feel, especially when the world around you wants you to “be strong” or “move on” before you’re ready. But grief doesn’t follow timelines. It doesn’t wrap up neatly, no matter how many casseroles show up in the first week.
Professionally, changing careers was both exciting and terrifying. Leaving banking to go back to school meant starting over and really sitting with uncertainty.
More recently, opening my private practice in 2024 and moving from California to Pennsylvania added another layer. Starting a business is bold. Starting a business while also rebuilding the community is humbling. There’s the practical side of getting things off the ground, and then there’s the tender side, grieving the people and places you love while trying to find your footing somewhere new.
But those stretch seasons shaped me. They clarified what matters. They deepened my compassion. And they strengthened my commitment to creating spaces where people don’t have to carry the unbearable alone.
We’ve been impressed with Healing Heart Therapy Co., but for folks who might not be as familiar, what can you share with them about what you do and what sets you apart from others?
Healing Heart Therapy Co. is my private practice, where I work with adults navigating grief, trauma, and major life transitions. Whether someone is sitting across from me or meeting with me virtually, I want the space to feel human. Not stiff. Not overly clinical. Not like you have to sit up straight and say the “right” thing to be understood.
My approach is integrative because healing is not one-size-fits-all. Insight matters. I love a good “aha” moment. But insight alone does not always reach the part of you that is wide awake at 2 a.m. or holding tension you cannot quite name. That is where brainspotting and other brain-body approaches come in. I also bring in movement, creativity, music, and sometimes even a bit of play. Not in a performative or forced way, but in a way that gives us access to more than words when words fall short.
I pay close attention to the nervous system. Sometimes the work is quiet and deep. Sometimes there are tears. Sometimes there is laughter. Often, it is all of that in the same hour, because that is what being human actually looks like.
What sets my practice apart is that balance. We make space for the hard things without rushing them or trying to fix them. And at the same time, we stay connected to the parts of you that still want to live, create, connect, and maybe even laugh at something unexpected. Grief and trauma do not erase your humanity. They are part of your story, but they are not the whole story.
What I am most proud of is that people do not feel like they have to perform when they are with me. You do not have to be the “strong one.” You do not need perfect words. You do not have to make your grief easier for anyone else to hold. You get to show up exactly as you are. Messy, thoughtful, numb, overwhelmed, all of it. And we begin there.
We love surprises, fun facts and unexpected stories. Is there something you can share that might surprise us?
Okay, this one always makes me laugh because people genuinely don’t expect it. Before I became a therapist, I worked in a wine bar for about a year while I was in community college. No mixed drinks, just wine and beer. Very classy. Very contained. But in my mind? I was fully living my Coyote Ugly dream.
I had always thought bartending looked fun. There was something about the energy of it. The music, the movement, the connection. And even though we weren’t flipping bottles or mixing cocktails, it felt like this little hub of community. People would come in carrying their whole lives with them. Celebrations, heartbreak, awkward first dates, breakups, promotions, bad days. All of it.
And I found myself doing what I’ve kind of always done. Listening. Connecting. Creating space. Letting people exhale for a minute.
And yes, when great bands were playing, I absolutely danced behind the bar. I grew up dancing and performing, so that part of me does not stay quiet. If “Whip It” or “My Sharona” came on, I was moving while pouring wine. No hesitation. I stand by it.
Looking back, it makes so much sense that I became a therapist. The setting changed, but the heart of it didn’t. It was always about relationship. It was always about people feeling seen.
I think that connects to my therapy work more than people expect. I believe healing can include warmth, humor, music, and play. Not instead of the hard things. Alongside them. Sometimes people open up because it feels safe. Sometimes, because they feel understood. And sometimes, because they realize they’re allowed to laugh in the middle of something heavy.
That’s usually where the magic starts.
Pricing:
- Individual 60 min – $150
- Individual 90 min – $225
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.healinghearttherapyco.com
- Instagram: @healinghearttherapyco
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61586229753779
