When Chris Coulter lost his daughter Maddie in 2015, he spent the next nine years trying to get back to the man he was before. Nobody warned him about the second loss, the one that happens underneath. This is a piece about losing yourself after losing a child, about the two selves that argue in private, and about what finally stopped the arguing after eleven years.

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.

I run a mental health company, and some days I think we talk about mental health too much. Not for the reason you'd expect. The phrase itself has gone abstract. "We all have mental health" is as useful as "we're all animals," true and inert. This is about why awareness stopped working, why vague conversation feels like too much conversation, and what changes when you get specific.

Someone who mattered to me said I built my audience on the back of my daughter's death. I remember it word for word. Instead of firing back, I took the accusation apart honestly. Yes, Maddie's story reaches people, and I've watched it happen. What the accusation misses is the story I refuse to tell and the families I've never charged. This is about the line between advocacy and exploitation, and who gets to decide where it sits.

Gallup's 2026 State of the Global Workplace reports engagement at a record low, with managers declining fastest. Most wellbeing vendors respond with another engagement initiative. Chris Coulter argues the real driver sits outside the survey's reach: the struggling teen, the aging parent, the divorce, the debt, the unspoken grief your people carry to work and never mention. Here is what employers miss, why managers are breaking, and what asking actually looks like.

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.

There is a parent in your office right now who was out at 3am looking for their kid. She smiles at the elevator. She hits her targets. Nobody knows what she is carrying. This is for that parent, and for the ones who love her but cannot help her because they don't know. A piece about the invisible weight of raising a struggling teen while showing up for a job, a team, and the rest of a family. Written from lived experience.

The hardest part of losing a child is not the funeral. It is learning to live with the guilt, unanswered questions, and fear that your child will be forgotten. Chris Coulter shares what grief looks like ten years after losing his daughter Maddie and offers practical ways to support bereaved parents with compassion, presence, and remembrance.

Chris Coulter lost his daughter Maddie in 2015. He is not a therapist or clinician. He is a father who survived the worst thing a parent can face and decided that could not be the whole story. This piece explores why lived experience is a legitimate credential and why it reaches people clinical training sometimes cannot.

When someone you love dies, ordinary objects become something else entirely. A hoodie. A playlist. A card in a drawer. This piece explores what grief does to the things they left behind, why holding on is not the same as being stuck, and how you will know when the time is right to let go.

Eleven years after losing his daughter Maddie, Chris Coulter writes honestly about what traumatic grief does to the brain, why the pain does not diminish with time, and what people carrying loss actually need from the people around them. For parents navigating grief, loss, or the weight of a struggling child.

Chris Coulter lost his daughter Maddie to suicide in 2015. Eleven years later, her legacy is saving lives through The MentorWell — a parent support ecosystem built around earlier awareness, real conversations, and the belief that noticing sooner changes everything.

A private live parent support community for families with kids ages 8–20. Whether you're already navigating something hard or want to stay ahead of it — When Something Feels Off gives you perspective, community, and a room where you leave feeling lighter than when you arrived. Free with LifeLine Home.

Chris Coulter lost his daughter Maddie to suicide in 2015. For nine years he tried to recover the person he was before. Then something shifted — and Maddie came back not as a loss, but as a presence. A personal reflection on grief, purpose, and what it means to finally stop looking backward.