Meet Elizabeth Quinn

We were lucky to catch up with Elizabeth Quinn recently and have shared our conversation below.

Elizabeth, we’re thrilled to have you sharing your thoughts and lessons with our community. So, for folks who are at a stage in their life or career where they are trying to be more resilient, can you share where you get your resilience from?

Resilience isn’t something I chose. It’s something I learned while surviving what I never wanted to survive.

I found it the day I became a mother and lost my daughter at the same time. In those early days, resilience didn’t look like strength or courage. It looked like shock. Like putting one foot in front of the other because stopping wasn’t an option. Like loving a child I couldn’t hold and trying to figure out how to keep living in a world that suddenly felt unsafe and unfamiliar.
Grief didn’t make me stronger. It changed me. It softened me in some places and hardened me in others. It taught me how to sit with pain instead of rushing past it, and how love doesn’t end just because someone does. Over time, resilience became less about surviving the worst moments and more about learning how to carry them forward with me.
When I later lost both of my parents, resilience showed up differently. This grief was layered, and deeply familiar. At the same time, I was raising children who were watching how I handled loss. I learned that resilience could be quiet and imperfect; crying in the car, showing up anyway, telling the truth when it hurt, and allowing grief to have a place in our home.
Today, my resilience comes from staying connected — to my daughter, to my parents, to my children, and to the stories I carry. It lives in my writing, in the spaces I create for honest conversations about grief, and in choosing not to turn away from pain, even when it would be easier to do so.
I don’t feel resilient most days. I feel human. And I’ve learned that sometimes, that’s the bravest thing you can be.

Appreciate the insights and wisdom. Before we dig deeper and ask you about the skills that matter and more, maybe you can tell our readers about yourself?

I’m an author, a writer, and the host of the Healing Hearts Podcast. My work lives at the intersection of grief, love, and storytelling; creating spaces where loss can be spoken honestly and without pressure to be “okay.”
My story with grief began in 2008, when I lost my firstborn daughter. That loss changed the trajectory of my life and quietly shaped the work I would one day do. I learned how to carry grief alongside motherhood, how love continues even when a child is gone, and how deeply important it is to have places where that love is acknowledged.
Grief found me again years later when I lost my dad in 2018, followed by my mom in 2020. Losing both of my parents layered my grief and deepened my understanding that loss doesn’t move in straight lines. It weaves itself into everyday life, especially while raising children and continuing to show up for the world.
In 2023, I launched the Healing Hearts Podcast as a space for the conversations I wished I’d had earlier — honest, gentle conversations about grief, love, and what it means to keep living after loss. The podcast centers real stories and lived experiences, without trying to fix or rush the grief process.
In 2025,I started writing, and shading it in a public way when I contributed to grief anthologies including The Art of Healing and Stories of Friends and Family Lost. Being part of those collections affirmed how powerful shared stories can be, and those experiences ultimately led me to create my own anthology, Held in Our Hearts.
Held in Our Hearts was created specifically for bereaved parents; to honor babies who are deeply loved and deeply missed, to hold their names, and to offer comfort and validation during some of the hardest moments of grief. Seeing this book placed in hospitals and into the hands of newly grieving parents has been one of the most meaningful parts of my work.
Right now, I’m focused on continuing to build grief community spaces through writing, the podcast, and partnerships with hospitals and community organizations. I’m also working on a second anthology centered on pregnancy after loss; a tender, often isolating season that deserves more care, honesty, and support.
At the heart of everything I do is this belief: grief doesn’t need to be fixed. It needs to be acknowledged. When stories are shared and held with care, love stays present — and no one has to feel so alone.

There is so much advice out there about all the different skills and qualities folks need to develop in order to succeed in today’s highly competitive environment and often it can feel overwhelming. So, if we had to break it down to just the three that matter most, which three skills or qualities would you focus on?

Looking back, there are three things that shaped my journey more than anything else.
The first is honesty. Grief taught me that pretending I was okay only made things heavier. What actually helped was telling the truth about the pain, the sadness, and how long it lasted. If you’re early in your journey, give yourself permission to be honest, even when it feels messy or uncomfortable.
The second is learning how to stay. Staying with the hard moments instead of rushing past them. Healing didn’t come from fixing what was broken, but from allowing what hurt to exist without judgment. You don’t have to carry everything at once. Take small steps forward.
The third is connection. Grief can be incredibly isolating, but shared stories changed everything for me. Seeing my experience reflected in someone else’s words made me feel less alone. Getting that me too moment really helped shaped how I continued to carry my grief.
Connection and shared stories is what drives me to write and to host the Healing Hearts Podcast. Creating spaces where grief can be spoken honestly — and met with understanding instead of solutions feels like the most meaningful way I know how to show up.

What has been your biggest area of growth or improvement in the past 12 months?

My biggest area of growth in the last year has been learning to trust myself.
For a long time, I second-guessed my voice especially when it came to grief. Over the last twelve months, trusting myself has opened the door to doing bigger, braver things. It’s allowed me to say yes to contributing to books, to believe I was ready to create my own anthology, and to step into work that once felt just out of reach.
That trust has also shifted how I think about the future. Instead of shrinking my vision or waiting for permission, I’m allowing myself to look toward bigger possibilities in 2026 ; not from a place of pressure, but from alignment. I’m choosing projects that feel meaningful, rooted in connection and honesty, and true to the work I’m here to do.
Learning to trust myself hasn’t made things easier, but it has made them clearer. And that clarity has changed everything.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @lizquinnheals
• Other: https://open.spotify.com/show/08PxtTeYYuaL31Ks1P2IYX?si=lxRPAhoiT3eRZ2vQSf6PtQ

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Image Credits

Ashley Clinton by Golden Hour Photography