If you know Maddie Coulter because of how she died, you know the least important thing about her. She vetted my dating profiles. She ran a One Direction fan club and had 1,500 followers in a week. She was funny and loud and right more often than I was comfortable with. This is about what happens to a person's biography after they die, and a request from her father to remember the life instead.

Your teenager says they're fine. You know something's off. Six ways to make the first step smaller when your teen won't talk to you or anyone else, including why letting someone else be first is not a failure, and the one reassurance most parents offer that they will end up breaking. Plus what to do when you've tried everything and your kid still gives you nothing.

They spend more time alone. They stop talking as much. They're on their phone more. Something feels different and you can't put your finger on it. Six things a parent can do when they've noticed a change in their teenager and don't know whether it means anything, including what to ask instead of how was your day, when to bring in someone who isn't you, and what changed in one house afterwards.

Your teenager is quieter. Their sleep has changed. Conversations are shorter. Every item on that list also describes a perfectly normal fifteen-year-old, which is why parents explain it away. Chris Coulter on the difference between teenage moodiness and something worth attention, the six questions that separate a bad week from a pattern, and why knowing your child's baseline matters more than knowing the warning signs.

The funeral director said he had never seen a line that long. Chris Coulter remembers comforting the people who came to comfort him. Then the next day arrived, the house went quiet, and grief moved in properly. On the hardest day after losing a child, why support thins out exactly when it starts to hurt, and why it is never too late to go back to a family in the quiet part.

In the spring of 2018, three years after we lost Maddie, I picked a day and told nobody. Not my therapist, not my closest friends, not the people who had already carried me through the worst thing that can happen to a family. Nothing was missing from my life. I had every person I needed. What I didn't have was any willingness to be a burden to them, and that was the dangerous part.

A message came in yesterday. Someone had found out a friend lost her daughter and didn't know what to do. She's not alone. Most people give a grieving family space because it feels respectful, and then the space becomes permanent. This is about when to reach out, what to say when you don't know what to say, and the two things that land badly.

Every podcast opens with the same question about my daughter Maddie. Off the microphone, people say they're sorry for my loss. One asks me to be her dad for a minute. The other closes the conversation. This is about what you actually get when you ask a grieving parent a second question, and the fourteen year old who appointed herself greeter on a psychiatric ward.

Maddie was in the youth psychiatric ward in North York. Twice. Her friends would call the house and I'd tell them she had a stomach thing and would be home soon. She asked me to keep it quiet and I did. Chris Coulter on the two months nobody visited, why a broken back fills a room and this doesn't, and the decision he never realised he was making.

Ask a parent how their kid is doing and you get an answer, not a guess. Ask a manager about the person ten feet away, same confidence. Nobody is lying. Everyone is answering from what they were shown, and somebody decided what that would be. Chris Coulter on why the people closest to you tell you least, what we measure instead, and the question worth sitting with.

Committed is a word for choices. You commit a crime. You commit to a mortgage. Suicide is not one of those, and the word makes a claim about what happened that is simply wrong. Chris Coulter on the phrase people still use, the fence it builds around other families, what to say to a grieving parent instead, and why correcting somebody only works when it hands them information rather than a test they can fail.

My daughter told me the truest thing she ever said while we were driving home from swim practice. Nothing about that conversation was planned, and that was the point. Sitting across a desk and asking someone to be honest puts them on a stage. Teenagers read it instantly and so do employees. This is about why the check-in fails, and where real answers actually happen.

After losing his daughter, Chris Coulter watched his psychological profile become obsolete overnight. The decisive, driven results were gone. He blamed adult ADHD, his medication, early dementia, even mould in his coffee, before his doctor named the real cause. This post covers what grief does to memory, concentration and motivation, and why forgetting a passcode does not mean you are losing your mind.

Registry studies show bereaved parents face two to three times the suicide risk of comparison groups after losing a child to suicide. Chris Coulter writes from lived experience about the silence that follows loss, why the support disappears too soon, and why postvention is the missing piece in suicide prevention.

Teenagers do not open up when you sit them down and ask how they are doing. They open up when the pressure drops. The car. The kitchen. A walk. Side by side instead of face to face. This post is about why where you are when you talk matters more than what you say — and one conversation with Maddie that proved it.

The signs that something is wrong with your teenager are rarely obvious. They are small shifts — less talking, less laughing, a door that stays closed. Parents miss them because each one feels like a phase. This post names what early teen mental health warning signs actually look like and what to do when you notice them.

The kid who helps everyone else — the capable one, the connected one — is often the one nobody is watching. They have learned that their job is to hold things together, not to fall apart. This post names the warning signs hidden behind a helper's strength and what parents can do before it becomes a crisis.

A parent reached out on a Sunday — desperate, she said. She had already decided what she wanted to hear before she dialled. When I didn't say it, the call ended. This episode is about the difference between reaching out for validation and being ready for clarity. They feel identical. They lead to very different places.

The blindspot breaking your management relationships is the same one breaking your parenting. The employee performing fine. The teenager protecting you from worry. Both made the same calculation. Honesty costs too much. This post names the dynamic — and the skill that breaks it in both rooms.

There have been 579 Monday mornings since April 11, 2015. Maybe 50 I have actually looked forward to. All of them in the last year. For parents carrying something heavy and not sure where to go with it.