About this site

It started, as many poor decisions do, with LinkedIn.

I logged in to update my profile. Just a quick refresh, I told myself. Tighten a summary, add a banner image, pretend I hadn’t rage-deleted the app six months earlier. But then the feed got me. And dear reader, the feed was… feeding.

Posts written entirely in one-sentence paragraphs. Hashtag confessions of #growth, #leadership, and #courageousvulnerability. Threads of trauma repackaged as “key learnings from my recent layoff.” Product managers posting TED Talks about how changing their email signature changed their career.
And the comments. Oh god, the comments. A wall of "👏👏👏" like applause in an empty room.

Somewhere between endorsing a stranger for "AI Empathy Strategy" and replying “Thanks for sharing!” to a VP I once saw fire a whole team via spreadsheet, I knew I was too far gone.

That’s when it hit me: I can’t do this. Not like this.

So I made this site: The Voice of User. Because if I was going to spiral, I might as well do it in longform.

This isn’t a personal brand. This isn’t lead gen. This isn’t content. It’s me, writing the things that don’t belong in a strategy doc, would absolutely get deleted from a retro, and would trigger at least three Slack messages starting with “hey, quick question…”

What you’ll find here: longform essays about UX research, product decision-making, organizational theatre, and the slow erosion of professional sanity in environments that claim to care about users but can’t allocate budget for a five-person study.

You won’t find:

• “10 tips for being a more impactful researcher”
• Motivational carousels
• Anything ending in “...and that’s why I love what I do ❤️”

I write this to stay sane. If you’re here, you probably do too.

Welcome to the survival archive.