Transform Your Life Through "Coaching in Community" with Roots & Keys Coaching and Held Space STL
- amy l miller
- May 6
- 2 min read
Updated: May 8
Do you ever miss being a kid? It was so easy to make friends and just...be. (This is a photo of my child when she was little, being a llamacorn just for fun, which seemed apropos)

Being an adult, on the other hand? Not lit. Like, at all. 1/5 stars, do not recommend. (Being able to eat cookies whenever I want is that one star.)
But you know what? You really don’t have to do it alone. That’s the whole point of my practice. Whether you’re navigating perimenopause, struggling to communicate in your relationship, or just trying not to lose your shit on a daily basis, being in a room (even a virtual one) with other people who get it can be powerful. My groups aren’t about fixing you. They’re about giving you space to be real, to be seen, and to actually feel a little less alone while you figure your shit out.
I facilitate in a way that’s down-to-earth, unpretentious, and comfortable. No icebreakers, no woo, no one asking you to share before you're ready. You don’t need to be extroverted or eloquent. You just have to be human and willing to show up. I bring structure, clarity, and a strong container—but I also bring warmth, humor, and a lot of swearing. You’ll leave with real tools and insights, not just small talk and vague advice.
A lot of people want support but feel like 1:1 therapy or couples work is too expensive—or too intense to jump into right away. Groups are a lower-cost, lower-pressure way to get help, perspective, and connection. You still get expert guidance (hi, licensed clinical social worker here), but in a shared space that often feels more relatable and less intimidating. And honestly, you might learn just as much from hearing other people wrestle with the same stuff you're going through.
Also? It’s not weird. These aren’t “support groups” in the way that makes people cringe. You don’t have to bare your soul, and you won’t be stuck listening to someone’s monologue about their childhood trauma for 90 minutes. These are real, focused conversations about things that actually matter. You’ll laugh. You might cry. You’ll definitely leave feeling a little more human. Come see for yourself.



Comments