Liz's Unheard Voice
This is the written side of the conversations I don’t get to have out loud anymore.
Liz’s Unheard Voice is where my thoughts land when they finally slow down enough to be written. It’s the same voice you’ll hear in the Midnight Pickle Podcast — the same questions, the same reflections, the same attempts to understand the world and the people in it. Nothing here is polished or performed. It’s just me thinking on paper, the way I think in real life. Sometimes it’s something I learned that day. Sometimes it’s a pattern I finally see. Sometimes it’s a memory, a moment, or a question that won’t let go. Everything here is pulled from my life, my education, my experiences as a mother, a healer, and someone who has spent decades trying to understand why people hurt the way they do.
What I Write About
I write about whatever I’m trying to make sense of — grief, relationships, human nature, the mind, systems that don’t work, the way people misunderstand each other, and the quiet truths that show up late at night when everything else goes quiet. My writing is not meant to be inspirational or dramatic. It’s not a grief diary. It’s not a textbook. It’s not a polished essay. It’s simply the way I process life: honestly, directly, and with the kind of curiosity that never really shuts off. Some posts come from old journal entries. Some come from conversations I never got to finish. Some come from the shattered pieces I picked up after losing Dylan, each one reflecting something different about who I am now and how I see the world.
Who This Is For
This space is for people who think deeply, feel deeply, or feel misunderstood by a world that rewards surface-level living. It’s for people who want honesty instead of performance, clarity instead of clichés, and depth instead of labels. It’s for anyone who has ever felt alone in their own mind, anyone who has asked questions that no one around them asks, anyone who has felt like something was off but couldn’t put words to it. If you read something here and it makes you exhale, or finally understand something you’ve been carrying, then this space is doing what it’s meant to do.
What Makes This Different
I don’t write from one angle. My voice comes from life experience, formal education, philosophy, psychology, spiritual questions, and the raw truth of losing a child — all woven together into something that doesn’t fit neatly into a category. I’m not writing as a therapist. I’m not writing as a grief advocate. I’m not writing as a philosopher. I’m writing as someone who has lived through enough, questioned enough, and learned enough to see the world differently. My work isn’t about branding or expertise. It’s about being human without hiding it.
In the End
These posts are pieces of me — pieces of the mirror I had to rebuild after everything shattered. They’re offered simply, openly, without trying to make them anything more than what they are: the quiet reflections of someone trying to understand life and share that understanding with others. If you find yourself breathing a little deeper, thinking a little differently, or feeling a little less alone, then you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.