There are some people whose presence immediately feels expansive. Not because they have all the answers, but because they have learned to sit comfortably with the questions. Actress, writer and podcast host Susie Abromeit is one of those people. Best known for her acting roles, including Marvel’s Jessica Jones, she has spent much of her career inhabiting other people’s stories. Today, however, she is equally passionate about exploring the stories that shape us all, particularly those born from grief, resilience, friendship and the search for meaning.

As host of the acclaimed podcast Great Ones, Abromeit has spent hours in conversation with some of the world’s most successful actors, musicians, filmmakers, athletes and creatives. Yet despite speaking with people whose achievements would seem extraordinary from the outside, one lesson has become increasingly clear to her. Success, she says, rarely fixes what we imagine it will.
“I think what is often misunderstood about success is that people imagine it is going to solve something internally,” she reflects. “People believe that once they achieve recognition or accomplishment they will suddenly feel fulfilled, connected or whole.”
It is an insight earned not only through interviewing others but through her own experiences. Before becoming an actress, Abromeit pursued tennis at an elite level, earning a scholarship to Duke University. Reaching those milestones taught her that every dream carries its own hidden cost.
“I achieved many of the goals I had dreamed about for years,” she says, “but there was also sacrifice, loneliness, pressure and injury attached to it. I realised that getting the thing I wanted so badly didn’t automatically make me feel the way I imagined it would.”
That understanding has continued throughout her acting career, reminding her that fulfilment is rarely found in achievements alone. Instead, she believes the deeper question is why we pursue them in the first place.
“If we sit quietly enough with ourselves,” she says, “we begin to understand what we’re actually seeking underneath the achievement.”
Those questions became even more profound following the sudden death of her mother, an experience that would eventually inspire her deeply personal short film Death and Friends. Co-written by Abromeit and described as a heartfelt dramedy exploring friendship, grief and healing, the project refuses to separate heartbreak from humour because, as she discovered, real life never does.
“When my mum died everything happened so suddenly,” she recalls. “I would go from hysterically crying to hysterically laughing and then back to crying again. There was almost this manic energy because everything had been ripped away so unexpectedly.”
Far from feeling that laughter somehow dishonoured grief, she found it became part of surviving it. Friends unintentionally created moments of absurdity. Well-meaning strangers often said astonishingly awkward things. Amid profound sadness, humour emerged naturally, not as an escape but as another expression of love.
“I never felt like laughter was forbidden,” she says. “If anything, it was part of the grief. It was part of the shock, the humanity and the chaos of the experience.”
That emotional honesty sits at the heart of the film, which captures grief not as a single emotion but as an unpredictable landscape where tenderness, confusion, absurdity and joy often coexist.
What perhaps surprised Abromeit most was not simply the pain of losing her mother but how grief fundamentally expanded her understanding of herself. Rather than closing her world down, it unexpectedly opened it.
“Grief has a way of breaking you wide open,” she explains. “Strangely, that openness can become expansive.”
She describes feeling connected to something larger than herself, experiencing moments of intuition and clarity that she had never previously accessed. The experience transformed her relationship not only with loss but with life itself.
“I suddenly felt connected to something bigger. I began receiving what I can only describe as downloads — moments of intuition, wisdom and clarity that made me feel more connected to my mum, to life and to the unseen parts of existence.”
This was not the first devastating event she had endured. Losing her family home in the Woolsey Fire had already challenged her understanding of impermanence, yet both experiences reinforced a philosophy that now guides her through every difficult chapter.
“When something deeply tragic happens,” she says thoughtfully, “there is balance to the other side of it. If I look for the blessings, they always appear.”
Rather than asking why something terrible has happened, Abromeit now asks a different question entirely.
“What is this experience teaching me? How can I paint with this? How can I use this to create something meaningful?”
It is an outlook she describes as alchemy: the deliberate decision to transform suffering into wisdom rather than allowing pain to become the final chapter.
That philosophy extends into the advice she would offer anyone navigating life’s inevitable curveballs. The first, she says, is to become radically honest about what we truly want.

“Be careful what you wish for because it might come true,” she says. “Really ask yourself why you want something. Is it aligned with who you truly are, or is it coming from conditioning, fear or old patterns?”
Her second tool is refusing to become defined by circumstances.
“Life can be unbelievably hard,” she acknowledges, “but it can also be incredibly magical. Whatever comes your way, there is an opportunity to use it to expand yourself and become stronger.”
The final piece of her personal toolkit is perhaps the gentlest.
“Give yourself grace. Learn the lesson. Take accountability. But don’t endlessly punish yourself. We’re all evolving. We’re all trying to communicate better, love better and do better.”
It is an attitude that feels particularly refreshing in a world increasingly driven by perfectionism and comparison. While social media often rewards polished versions of ourselves, Abromeit believes genuine connection comes from exactly the opposite direction.
“I think everyone’s real gift is who they authentically are,” she says. “We’re here to become more fully ourselves, not less.”
For her, meaningful relationships are no longer built around appearances or shared interests alone but through vulnerability, emotional honesty and a willingness to continue growing together.
“I want relationships where people can really show up as themselves.”
Perhaps this explains why Great Ones has resonated so strongly with audiences. Rather than focusing on celebrity, the conversations explore the pivotal moments that transformed each guest’s perspective on life. Abromeit approaches every interview with genuine curiosity, describing each conversation as adding “another tool to my tool belt.”
“I’ve always imagined what it would be like to sit around a dinner table with people I deeply admire,” she says. “Now I get to ask them how they created the lives they’ve created, how they think, how they overcame challenges. It honestly feels like such a gift.”
Listening to hundreds of extraordinary life stories has only reinforced what she already suspected. Regardless of fame, achievement or status, everyone is ultimately navigating the same human experiences: love, loss, hope, disappointment, healing and resilience.
As storytelling continues to evolve across podcasts, films and digital platforms, Abromeit believes audiences are craving something increasingly rare: emotional truth.
“I think people are really craving authenticity again,” she reflects. “At the end of the day, people will always connect to stories about being human. Transformation, loss, love, healing and resilience never really go out of style.”
Perhaps that is the greatest lesson running quietly beneath everything she creates. Grief may break us open, success may not deliver what we imagined, and life will always remain beautifully unpredictable. Yet somewhere within all of it lies the possibility of deeper connection, not only with others but with ourselves.
As Abromeit puts it with quiet certainty, “It’s not what you go through, but who you go through it with.”
We are often encouraged to rush past pain or disguise it behind carefully curated success, those words feel less like a comforting quote and more like a reminder that healing has never been a destination. It is a shared journey, one honest conversation at a time.




