Grief and Capitalism: When Support Comes With a Price Tag—and Money Becomes the Barrier to Getting the Help You Need
Grief can make reading hard. Want to listen to this article instead? Find its corresponding podcast episode here.
I often say “grief never happens in a vacuum.” When I use that phrase, I’m usually talking about the myriad of ways grief leaks out beyond you and impacts your relationships with other people at work, at home, and in your community.
But there is another way of understanding grief in the larger picture of your life—and that is noticing how grief shows up within the systems and structures we’re all subject to. One of these is capitalism.
If you’ve ever:
Chosen not to get help after a loss because it cost too much
Had your grief counseling sessions terminated by a therapist or other professional because you could no longer afford them
Felt judged for needing a payment plan or “sliding scale” support option
Had to decide between necessities like housing, food, and clothing and getting help with your grief
… you are in very, very good company.
If I had to guess, I would bet that millions—perhaps even billions—of grievers like you are intimately familiar with the sticky, complicated intersection of grief, capitalism, and money.
Basically, there is the pain of grieving. And then there is the pain of grieving while also living within a system of capitalism.
In this article, I’m going to do my best to discuss the many ways that grief and capitalism are intertwined—and what to do when money is the factor that’s preventing you from getting the support you need. I’ll also share tips for accessing free or low-cost grief support as a griever and wisdom on how to offer affordable grief support if you’re a professional helping people through loss.
First, the Heartbreaking Letter I Received About Grief Support and Money
A Grief Grower podcast listener recently emailed me with a question I've been sitting with for months. It's the kind of question that doesn't have a tidy answer, but I’m going to try, because talking about all the ways loss and finances are intertwined is important to me.
Here's their question, shortened for length:
“Could you do a podcast, article, or video touching on grief around reaching out to helping professionals like therapists and counselors and being abandoned, pathologized, judged, or having aid withdrawn or withheld over financial difficulties?
This has happened to me over and over again. I don't often hear about the grief that surrounds poor experiences with psychotherapists and counselors. It's not really a loss in the sense of someone dying, but it's a loss in the sense of being cut off from help when you need it most.
I put my faith in a professional to look out for me and my wellbeing and then realize what they say and do don't line up with those values. I feel a deep sadness and this treatment activates questions about ‘Why me?’. I already have a history of trauma and neglect. These seem like losses no one really cares to hear about and deems too trivial to grieve.”
While I can only speak from my capacity as a grief coach—not a therapist—here's what I know to be true: it’s shitty that grief support and money coexist the way they do right now in our society. And, this letter points to a larger systemic problem that grievers and grief professionals all have to live with: existing under a system of capitalism.
What Is Capitalism—and How Is It Tied to Getting Grief Support?
Before I go further, let me define what I mean by capitalism, because it's a word that gets thrown around a lot without much explanation.
In the simplest terms: capitalism is an economic system where goods and services—including healthcare, housing, and yes, grief support—are largely provided through private, for-profit exchange rather than centrally distributed by a government.
Capitalism can have real upsides. It's part of why independent grief professionals can build specialized practices—such as support for LGBTQ+ grievers, divorcées, or child loss bereavement. It’s also why so many different kinds of support exist to choose from, and why flexible pricing models like sliding scale or pay-what-you-can are even possible. Professionals can offer services they think will sell without a lot of restriction—and grievers can buy what they think they need based on that service’s availability and cost.
Capitalism also has real downsides. For instance, your ability to access grief support is often tied to your income, your insurance, or your employer, rather than the depth of your need. And the competition created by supply and demand can forge all kinds of double-edged swords.
For example, platforms like BetterHelp and Talkspace have made virtual therapy more convenient, but they also pay therapists a fraction of standard rates, creating a pricing "race to the bottom" that can leave the professionals caring for you financially under-supported. I often read articles (like this one and this one) and personal accounts of these app-based virtual therapists making the same difficult choices between housing, groceries, and mental healthcare that you, as a griever, might be.
Capitalism also creates a world where if you cannot individually afford grief-related expenses, you are more often than not required to individually find the means to pay for them. Many grievers and grief professionals lament living in a society where people set up online fundraisers for everything from medical bills to funeral expenses—because, under capitalism, expenses like that lie entirely with individuals instead of with the government.
Simply put, grief support under capitalism typically looks like:
Individually shopping and paying for your own grief support
Choosing the support type or provider that resonates most with you
Paying for products and services out of your own pocket (with or without the help of insurance)
Having little control over when or how much the price of grief support changes.
Essentially, getting the help you need after a loss often comes with a price tag, and that price tag can become its own source of grief.
Money Is Already Part of Your Grief, Whether or Not You Want It to Be
You probably know this already, but no matter what type of loss you’re grieving or how long ago it happened, money is tangled up with your grief, even before you factor in the cost of getting support.
For you this might look like:
Medical bills from an illness or a diagnosis
Funeral, burial, or cremation costs
Legal fees from a divorce or custody battle
Moving expenses after losing a shared home
Lost income from time off work, a job loss, or reduced hours while grieving
The cost of childcare or caregiving support you suddenly need alone
Replacing housing, clothing, or other necessities after a natural disaster or war
Becoming the main financial supporter for family or friends that relied on someone who died
Grief is expensive in ways that rarely make it into “polite” conversation. Considering—and even making a list of—your literal grief expenses can help you see all the ways money has an effect on your ability to get support.
Loss of—or Lack of—Grief Support Due to Financial Constraints Is a Real Loss, Even Though No One Died
Inability to access grief support—or having to stop getting support because you can no longer afford it—is an extremely under-recognized loss. And losing support at a time when it already feels like your life is crumbling—over something as worldly and emotionally fraught as money—can leave you feeling like people only want to help you if and when you can pay them. That is an icky thing to believe in the midst of loss. It turns grief care—something we all deserve no matter our loss—into a tit-for-tat transaction.
Here are some flavors of loss you might have when money is a pain point in your grief support experience:
Financial loss: Money already spent on sessions, nonrefundable deposits, or programs that ended early
Loss of support: The sudden absence of a helping professional who was assisting you in navigating the emotional or logistical aspects of grief
Loss of trust: In professionals generally—and sometimes in your own judgment for having trusted them
Loss of continuity: The energy-sapping cost of having to start over, retell your story, and rebuild rapport with someone new
Loss of safety: Especially for grievers with a history of trauma or neglect, where abandonment by a support professional reopens an old wound
None of these losses involve a death. All of them still hold grief and are worthy of being mourned.
Common Stories Grievers Tell About Grief, Money, And Grief Support
For the grieving person who wrote to me, the story “Why me?” came up loud and clear after they were cut off from professional help. I imagine you have your own stories about grief and money—whether you only think them inside your head or say them aloud.
See if any of these resonate with you:
“It’s my fault I’m experiencing this loss.”
“If I were richer, I could afford this kind of support.”
“If I were smarter/more resourceful/less broken, I wouldn’t need this kind of support.”
“No one can help me. I have to do this alone.”
“I’m never going to be able to afford help.”
“This isn’t significant enough to grieve.”
These stories are largely one-way, personal narratives rooted in the belief that being unable to access or afford support is a personal failing, when in reality it’s usually a larger systemic issue related to capitalism. As I wrote about in my book Of Course I’m Here Right Now a society that prioritizes individual actions over the wellbeing of all generally defaults to blaming a person for not working or trying hard enough instead of considering why that person might not have all the resources they need to get help. It’s no wonder so many of us tell these self-shaming stories about grief and money!
How Licensure, Insurance, and Lack of Regulation Around Non-Therapeutic Grief Support Make Grief and Money More Complicated
The griever who submitted this letter reported multiple instances of being abandoned by helping professionals after they indicated they could no longer pay for help. And make no mistake: I don’t think this is okay. At ALL.
I believe that every grief professional—from therapists to coaches to bodyworkers to spiritual guides and beyond—should take a compassionate approach to discontinuing support when a client can no longer pay for services. No griever should ever be dropped with no explanation or experience the equivalent professional ghosting when their financial circumstances change.
Even if financial strain means you can no longer continue with your “regularly scheduled programming,” you, as the grieving client, should be given—at minimum—a clear explanation for why your grief support services are ending and at least one or two resources where you can seek out free or low-cost aid so you’re not cut off with nowhere to turn in an already vulnerable season.
When I posed this letter-writer’s question anonymously in a grief professionals group I’m a part of, several of my fellow grief workers chimed in with similar thoughts.
Social worker Katie Zicarelli of Wild Ferns Wellness wrote:
“Client care should still always be at the center of a therapist’s work. It is unethical to terminate without any transfer of care. There can be circumstances where it is out of the therapist’s control, but for the most part, therapists should be providing notice, working through termination, and providing referrals.”
Dr. Nyasha Grayman of Wisdom Counseling added:
“Abandonment by a licensed therapist/counselor is unethical and a reportable transgression. Guidance on how to ethically terminate services exists. [Grieving] clients need to know that they can report a licensed provider who abandoned them to the provider’s state licensing board for investigation.”
Another grief therapist and co-creator of an internationally-recognized grief support blog chimed in:
“If a client is working with someone licensed, they must follow both state licensing regulations and codes of ethics. In Maryland, for example, you can’t simply stop seeing a client who is already in treatment with you just because they can’t pay. The regulations say if you cannot find a way to see them yourself on a sliding scale or pro bono (which the code of ethics encourages), you must ‘seek the transfer, referral, or continuation of service in relation to the client's need or preference if the licensee anticipates the termination or interruption of service.’
If that hasn’t happened, a client can make a complaint to the board that their provider didn’t facilitate continuation of care. You’re required to have a termination procedure/policy in place, and best practice is that you should share it with a client at the start of treatment so they know what to expect if care needs to end for any reason (financial, you leaving your practice, or anything else).
Even if a client just stops showing up for sessions, a licensed provider has a mandated duty to try to re-engage the client, assess for risk, document attempts, and if the client truly disengages, you have to send a formal termination notice as to why you’re ending services and on how to re-engage in care, as well as referrals to other providers (in case maybe they still want care but it was an issue with you that they didn’t want to tell you about) before closing the case.”
Despite all of these noble, griever-centered beliefs, even well-meaning, ethical grief professionals are often restricted by systems outside of their control.
For instance, therapy licensure is almost always state-, territory-, or province-specific. A therapist licensed in one state or province cannot legally provide ongoing care if a griever moves—or even travels—out of that area, even if they’re in the midst of a crisis. I've heard from professionals whose clients relocated after a loss and needed continued support, only to hit a licensing wall that had nothing to do with the quality of care and everything to do with bureaucracy. In that instance, both the griever and the grief professional mourn the ways in which licensure limitations restrain their ability to receive and give grief care.
Insurance adds another layer of complexity. Coverage limits, in-network requirements, and session caps can all hamper or interrupt grief support at the moment you need it most.
According to The Center on Budget and Policy Priorities and The Commonwealth Fund, about 167 million people in the United States (about 60% of people under age 65) get their health insurance through an employer or a family member’s employer, and share the cost of the premium with their employer. That means most people with insurance through their workplace are usually still paying for some portion of the grief support services they receive—whether that’s therapy, psychiatry, mental health services, massage care, physical therapy, or medication. And of course, your insurance status is subject to change at any time due to job loss or your company’s structure changing, updated political policy, or shifting costs of coverage.
Outside of the realm of licensed, regulated grief support, grief professionals like spiritual guides and grief coaches are subject to little or no regulation. While I believe most of them are ethical and well-intended, there aren’t very many laws in place that protect grievers from aggressive marketing campaigns, scam or nonexistent products, provider misconduct and abuse, or financial reimbursement in the case of lost or stolen money.
Under capitalism, policies, prices, and payments are controlled by the professional or organization offering grief support—not a larger regulatory board or body—so grievers are left to do the energy-sapping, time-sucking labor of researching and sniffing out shady grief professionals. But thanks to the brain-taxing effects of loss, grievers aren’t always great at this. As my friend and founder of The School of American Thanatology, Cole Imperi, taught me: grievers are a marginalized population facing struggles and circumstances that others aren’t. They deserve to be marketed to ethically, sold to and provided for transparently, and cared for compassionately.
Sadly, within a system of capitalism where profit is often prioritized over people, it makes sense that shady, grifty, harmful, or even outright fake grief support exists right alongside reputable, proven, and genuinely helpful grief support.
Debunking The Myth That Grief Work Should Always Be Done for Free: 3 Assumptions People Make
Since I started working with grievers in 2016, I've been told more than a few times that charging money for grief support means I'm exploiting vulnerable people.
There are a lot of assumptions under that accusation, but I’ll just share three here:
1. Grief is sacred, so supporting people through it should also be sacred.
Working with grievers needs to be unpaid act done purely out of the goodness of your heart—a charitable calling rather than a profession. Selling your grief support services or asking to be paid for your work means that you’re “just trying to make a buck” or “taking advantage of grieving people.” Money is icky and salesy and bad and charging for grief support services corrupts the sacredness of grief in some way.
2. Grief work is not clearly linked to measurable outcomes of success that capitalism promotes, so it’s not worth paying for.
For instance: making more money, improving your marketable skills, or improving your efficiency, strength, or speed. Within capitalism, an economic system that values productivity and “up-and-to-the-right” growth, making time to sit with grief, ponder its effect on your life, express your emotions, rest and recuperate, and wrestle with existential questions of meaning and purpose is not viewed as a worthwhile, beneficial action. Therefore, why spend money on it? Even when you’re connected to free grief support through a local medical center or house of worship, many grief support organization have strict “one year after loss” time limits. Whether that’s to prevent them from being inundated with lifelong attendees or to get you to achieve capitalism’s goal of “back to productivity” faster, it can feel hard to tell.
3. Holding and tending to grief is predominantly “women’s work,” so it should be done for free.
While there are a number of renowned male grief professionals in the world, the majority of grief workers of all stripes—historically and today—are women. This assumption has ties to both capitalism and patriarchy—two systems that exploit the unpaid labor of women in order to profit. Consider other professional fields primarily employing women such as nursing, teaching, librarianship, and caregiving with a longstanding reputation of underpaying and capitalizing on “women’s work.”
Almost every grief professional I know has said some version of: "Working with grievers is the thing I'd do for free if capitalism weren't real." But it is real. And none of us get to opt out of it—including the people trying to help you survive the worst thing that's ever happened to you.
While grief work is 1000% the thing I would do with my time if money was no object, just like you I need to make my rent each month. I need to buy groceries. I need to care for my mind and body and spirit. So does every therapist, coach, chaplain, and bodyworker doing the work of supporting people through loss.
You deserve grief support. The person supporting you deserves to make a living. Under our current capitalistic system, those two truths usually require money changing hands. Holding both of those facts at once is uncomfortable. It's also just an accurate statement of where we are societally when it comes to grief and money right now.
For Grievers: How to Shop for a Good Grief Professional and Where to Find Free or Low-Cost Grief Support
When it comes to getting grief support, here are five things to do when considering working with a grief professional:
Ask about their termination and continuity policy up front.
A good grief professional—therapist, coach, bodyworker, or spiritual guide—should be able to tell you what happens if they can no longer see you, whether due to cost, capacity, or licensing. For therapists, this information should be included as a part of their onboarding process. For other professionals, this information is often included in a Terms of Service, FAQ, or Disclaimer section on their website. If you can’t find a clear answer and they can't answer you clearly, that’s a red flag.
Ask if they offer sliding scale, pro bono, or payment plan options.
Many do, even if it's not advertised on their website. It never hurts to ask directly. Some grief professionals might also consider a barter arrangement. Consider what professional skills you might be willing and able to trade in exchange for grief support. This might be gardening, making a piece of art, designing a website, or doing their taxes.
Notice how they talk about grief.
A professional who advertises helping you "move on" or "find closure" is probably not the right fit for the kind of grief support that actually helps you integrate loss into your life. Consider grief professionals that use terms like “growth,” “integration,” “learning,” and “living with loss.” You might also search explicitly for a grief professional that specializes in your unique loss experience. For instance, loss of a mother, pet loss, friendship struggles, miscarriage, job loss, or dealing with trauma.
Check their credentials—but don't assume unlicensed means unqualified.
Grief coaches, death doulas, spiritual guides, and grief group facilitators can offer real, meaningful support without the same sort of license that a doctor or therapist might have—whether they hold a certification, an accreditation, or a degree from the school of hard knocks. Just understand what regulatory oversight (or lack of it) comes with it. Ask about their credentials if you’re not sure.
Trust a pattern, not a single hard conversation.
One awkward exchange about money doesn't necessarily mean a grief professional is a bad fit for you. Repeated abandonment, judgment, or dismissiveness does. The Maya Angelou quote, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them,” can be helpful here. While Maya Angelou advised to “believe them the first time,” grief professionals are humans too. A single payment error may be a one-time fluke. If a grief practitioner regularly makes mistakes with your money, communicates in a judgmental, demanding, or hostile way, or brushes off your concerns about money, it’s time to end your relationship with them.
If financial struggles are a part of your grief story, here are two ways you can find find free or low-cost support:
Search for “sliding scale,” “pay-what-you-can,” or “pro bono” support in your area.
Many private-practice therapists reserve a handful of reduced-fee spots, even if they’re not listed publicly. If you find a therapist you connect with, simply ask if they offer sliding scale or pay-what-you-can services. Your local health department or center for mental health may offer pro bono (free) therapy sessions. If you’re a member of a marginalized community, such as a disabled person or a BIPOC person, you might also be able to find therapists who offer reduced-cost services to grievers like you.
Consider a grief support group instead of, or alongside, individual care.
Groups often cost less than one-on-one therapy—or nothing at all—and organizations built on a "cost is never a barrier" models exist specifically to remove the financial burden of paying for support. Grief groups can be found both in-person and online. For in-person options, check out your local hospices, hospitals, and community organizations. Many offer free grief groups or short-term counseling to the community, not just to people they directly served.
For online options, search for “free or low-cost grief support groups” and explore the facilitators and formats that resonate most with you. You might join a grief writing group, a 6-week book club, an always-open online course with weekly grief coaching calls, a specialized group based on your unique loss, or a drop-in group that meets at a set time every week or month. You might also search for workshops or one-time events through platforms like Reimagine or TalkDeath, which regularly advertise free and low-cost events hosted by grief experts, authors, researchers, and group leaders.
For Grief Professionals: How I Offer Affordable Options for Grief Support (and You Can Too)
To my fellow grief professionals out there, you're allowed to hold compassion for the reality that grief support costs money, and still charge for your work. Providing grief work under capitalism is hella weird and complicated, but it doesn’t have to feel gross.
Here are five ways I offer affordable grief support that you might consider incorporating into your own practice:
Create lots of free resources
Between my weekly blog, my podcast episodes of Grief Grower, and my posts on social media, I’d estimate that 80-90% of the work I create is free and available to all. Each piece of content includes at least one reference to my paid products or services. Having an ever-expanding library of free content serves many purposes, including getting support to people who can’t afford to pay—but also putting information about how folks can work with me on a deeper level in many places and on tons of platforms where it’s easy for them to find.
Provide free trials and sliding scale support options
In my online course and community Life After Loss Academy, I offer a one month free trial so grievers can see if my teaching style and the format of the group is right for them. When they’re ready to join, they have two payment options: one “standard” rate of $33/month and one “equity” rate of $22/month intended for LGBTQ+ grievers, BIPOC grievers, disabled grievers, or grievers facing financial stress. Grievers can choose the price point that works best for them—no questions asked.
Offer both one-time sessions and packages of sessions
In my one-on-one grief coaching support, I offer both one-time sessions and packages of sessions. Packages are discounted at a “Buy 5, get 1 free” rate, while one-time sessions are more affordable for grievers looking for what I call a “grief tune-up,” perhaps related to a new loss that’s upended their life or an upcoming grief anniversary that feels more significant than usual.
Give out “review copies” of your books or other educational materials
While my publishers hold the power (and the legal rights) to price my books, as an author, I have the freedom to provide digital copies of my books in exchange for reviews on Amazon and Goodreads. When I’m getting ready to launch a book, I offer my email subscribers the ability to join a “launch team” of early readers who receive a free copy of the book in exchange for a review. When I host book clubs or workshops based on my book, I offer to send the book for free to anyone who can’t afford it as long as they write a review within 30 days of the book club or workshop ending. As long as you check with your publishing contract, this may be something you’re able to do in your own grief business.
Offer services to organizations in addition to grievers
Most of the money I’ve made in my ten years as a grief coach has come from three sources:
Book publishers who’ve paid me an advance to write a book
Organizations looking for speakers on grief and loss
Companies, medical centers, and nonprofits who’ve bulk-purchased copies of my books or downloadable resources
While I work with a group of paying grievers inside Life After Loss Academy and support one-on-one coaching clients, a difficult truth I’ve learned as a grief professional is that no single griever will ever be able to pay me as much money as an organization can. Many bereavement companies have an annual pot of money set aside for workshops and presentations led by grief professionals invited to speak. One organization I worked with explicitly told me they hired me because they “needed to use up grant funding before the end of the year.” Of course they reached out to me personally because they liked my work and style of teaching, but there is definitely a “we’ve got money to spend on support like this” vibe present in organizational grief work versus marketing your support services to grievers individually.
Closing Thoughts: We Are All Grieving Inside an Economic System That Wasn’t Built for Grievers
Grief is complicated. Add capitalism to the mix, and you're not just navigating loss—you're navigating loss inside a system that determines who gets support and who doesn't. And money is wrapped up in all of it.
You might feel many things at once, and all of them are allowed.
You can be genuinely grateful for the grief professional who helped you, the sliding-scale therapy spot that came through when you really needed it, or the specialized coach who finally understood your specific loss—and still be furious that access to any of the support you received was ever tied to your bank account.
You can resent the healthcare system or how much money your insurance premiums cost while also appreciating their ability to connect you with grief workers that genuinely care about your loss and the state of your heart.
You can believe grief professionals deserve to afford groceries and also grieve the fact that your own grocery bills might be why you had to stop seeing yours.
Money and grief have always been tangled up with each other—through funeral costs, medical bills, lost income, and yes, the price tag on healing itself—because we live inside an economic system that necessitates it.
Naming that system doesn't fix it. But it can help you put words to the sense of shame or isolation you might feel surrounding the places in your life where grief and money collide.
This is such a layered, multifaceted conversation and I’d love to hear your thoughts. If this article impacted you or you’d like to share a perspective I missed, please get in touch with me here.
I’m wishing you so much care and compassion as you navigate your own relationship to grief, money, and capitalism.
