Welcome.

My name is Roe.

I’m a psychiatric nurse practitioner, a parent, a trans person, and a human, just like you.

I think you’re rad. I think it’s hard out here. And I believe healing is possible. That it’s a messy, slow process that doesn’t require you to be fixed or tidy to be worthy of care.

I came to this work through rupture. Through overwhelming body dysmorphia, long nights in the hospital as a labor nurse, a marriage that looked right but felt wrong, and a body that kept breaking the silence. Through somatic work, ceremony, pelvic floor therapy, and the wild grace of queer love, I started the process of untethering from what no longer fit. I gave birth. I got pregnant again. I got divorced. I picked up the bones of a life that could actually hold me. I bought a farm, leaned deeper into the study of medicine and somatics. And somewhere in the thick of it, I met myself, grief-slick, laugh-wild, angry and vital, and began practicing care from that place.

So if you’re standing at a threshold, wondering if you can bear what your body already knows, if you can speak the truth you’ve buried, if you’re allowed to want something more alive, I want you to know: I’ve been there. I won’t flinch. If you are grieving a life that is too small, reckoning with what you inherited or internalized, and choosing to come home to yourself, this practice is for you. 

Tended Root is a living collaboration between Kate and myself, rooted in years of shared practice, grief tending, parenting, and apprenticing to thresholds. 

Hi, I’m Kate Cohen Jules.

I’m a grief worker, somatics practitioner, and bodyworker. Raised in a family dense with addiction, I walked with death from a young age. I know what it feels like when grief bottled becomes cement in the chest, when grief moved brings a clarity that gives flight. 

I work with people whose connection to their body has been frayed, through harm, departure, survival. I make space: holding your feet, softening the fascia at the base of your skull, guiding your awareness into the sensation in your belly. There, you might find the child of you—panicking, punished, still waiting. We help them come home. You bring them into your arms, into everything you know now.

As a trans provider, I offer queer-liberatory care that helps clients recover consent, dignity, and joy across timelines. This work is about recovering aliveness, and refusing the systems that taught us we weren’t worthy of celebration.

We offer this practice toward a world of people remembered to their safe, free, well bodies.