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Main Introduction (by a parent who lost her child to suicide):
My name is Emily. I’m not a doctor or a therapist. I’m just a mom.
Three years ago, I lost my son, Noah, to suicide. He was 17. He had dimples when he smiled, a love for bad puns, and a heart so soft he once cried at a dog food commercial. He also carried a pain I didn’t fully see. Or maybe I saw glimpses, but I didn't know what I was looking at. I thought I was helping. I thought I was protecting him. I thought love was enough.
After Noah died, people kept telling me, “You did your best.” And I believe I did. But the truth is, I didn't know what "best" meant when it came to his mental health. I didn't know how to listen without fixing, or how to hold his silence without fearing it. I didn’t know that the pressure to “be okay” could make someone feel like they were failing at life.
This series of conversations is for parents like me. For friends who never asked the second question. For teachers, coaches, siblings—for anyone who’s wondered if they missed a sign or said the wrong thing. It's not about blame. It's about learning to see each other again. Gently. Honestly. Before it's too late.
I’m grateful to the experts and survivors in this series for saying the things we’re often too scared to say. And to you, the reader, for having the courage to listen.
Maybe together, we can start asking different questions.
(Note: This is an imaginary conversation, a creative exploration of an idea, and not a real speech or event.)

Topic 1: The Silent Influence — How Our Words and Presence Affect Mental Health
Moderator: Dr. Brené Brown
Panelists: Dr. Thomas Joiner, Kevin Hines, Dr. Christine Moutier, Johann Hari, Dr. Dan Siegel
[Dr. Brené Brown opens the session:]
So many people struggling with suicidal thoughts aren't met with cruelty—but with silence, pressure, or misunderstanding. And yet, those emotional climates—subtle and invisible—can become unbearable over time.
I want to begin with this:
What are some unseen ways that family, friends, or even “well-meaning” relationships can unintentionally contribute to someone’s emotional decline?
Kevin Hines:
I’ve said it before and I’ll keep saying it—people don’t need you to fix them; they need you to see them. Before my attempt, people thought they were helping by giving advice: “Be strong,” “Don’t think like that,” “You have so much going for you.” But what I heard in those words was, “You’re wrong to feel this way.” I felt like a burden for even bringing it up. That isolation grew deeper because no one just sat with me in the pain.
Dr. Dan Siegel:
From a neurobiological standpoint, we know that the human brain is wired for connection. But emotional invalidation—especially from caregivers—activates a fear-based response. Even a tone of disappointment or a subtle withdrawal of affection can send a message of shame. This kind of interpersonal rupture, when unacknowledged, creates a chronic state of emotional disintegration.
Johann Hari:
We often say we want what’s best for someone—but what we really want is for them to behave in ways we can handle. A teenager isolates in their room? Parents panic. A friend cancels again? We get frustrated. But sometimes, our expectations say: “Be okay, so I don’t have to worry.” That emotional demand becomes exhausting for someone already struggling.
Dr. Christine Moutier:
In my clinical work and national prevention efforts, we see over and over again: it’s not overt abuse that breaks people down—it’s subtle dismissal, chronic pressure, or being constantly misunderstood. One of the most common things survivors say is, “I didn’t feel like I could be my real self with anyone.” That feeling is deadly over time.
Dr. Thomas Joiner:
My research centers on perceived burdensomeness and thwarted belonging. When someone feels like they’re a problem others are tired of solving, or like they’re emotionally out of sync with the people around them, despair grows. What’s insidious is that families often don’t know they’re sending that message. But repeated patterns of “Why can’t you just...?” accumulate into quiet desperation.
[Dr. Brené Brown reflects:]
That idea of “quiet desperation” really sits with me. So let’s move forward.
When someone is emotionally withdrawing or showing signs—but not explicitly asking for help—how can we create space for them to feel safe, without overwhelming or pressuring them?
Johann Hari:
The key is attunement. You don’t barge in and say, “Tell me what’s wrong!” Instead, you offer presence without agenda. “I’m here if you want to talk. No pressure.” And then you stay close—not just once, but again and again. When people sense that your care is consistent and not conditional, that’s when the walls start to come down.
Dr. Christine Moutier:
You need to model emotional openness yourself. Say things like, “Lately, I’ve been feeling disconnected too.” Vulnerability invites vulnerability. Also, be patient with silence. Many people test the waters subtly. If your first reaction is defensiveness or advice-giving, they retreat even further. Safety grows in micro-moments of calm and nonjudgment.
Kevin Hines:
Sometimes all it takes is sitting next to someone and saying, “You don’t need to talk. But I’m not going anywhere.” That’s what I craved. Not a solution. Not therapy right away. Just someone who didn’t flinch at my darkness. Compassion is action without agenda.
Dr. Thomas Joiner:
I’d also emphasize respecting autonomy. People who are struggling often feel a loss of control. Don’t take that away by overreaching. Invite. Listen. Reflect. And most importantly, keep showing up without needing to be the hero. The goal is connection, not rescue.
Dr. Dan Siegel:
Relational safety comes from presence, not performance. Co-regulation—being in a state of calm while someone else is in chaos—communicates, “Your storm won’t drown me.” That helps the brain shift out of fear and into trust. The invitation to speak must be accompanied by the nervous system message: You are safe here.
[Dr. Brené Brown nods quietly, then asks the final question:]
This is powerful. For those listening who are wondering if they’ve unknowingly hurt someone—or want to change how they show up for others—
What is one shift they can make today to reduce harm and become a more emotionally safe presence?
Dr. Dan Siegel:
Shift from fixing to witnessing. Ask yourself: Am I trying to solve this, or am I trying to understand? The latter transforms relationships.
Dr. Thomas Joiner:
Speak less, observe more. Look for emotional patterns, not just crises. Sometimes the kindest act is a pause followed by a sincere, “I’m really listening.”
Dr. Christine Moutier:
Make it normal to talk about mental health. Say “How’s your heart today?” instead of “What’s up?” Normalize real check-ins.
Kevin Hines:
Text someone right now and say, “Hey, just checking in—I’ve been thinking about you.” That simple act has saved lives. I know because I’ve heard it.
Johann Hari:
Don’t wait for permission to care. Most people don’t ask for help because they’ve been taught not to. Love doesn’t wait for perfect timing—it leans in gently.
[Dr. Brené Brown closes the session:]
Thank you, all of you, for showing us that suicide prevention is not just about crisis—it’s about connection. It’s about the way we see each other, or fail to. And it’s about remembering that even the quietest presence can be a lifeline.
Topic 2: Beyond the Obvious — Recognizing Hidden Signs Before It’s Too Late
Moderator: Dr. April Foreman
Panelists: Dr. Kay Redfield Jamison, Dese’Rae L. Stage, Dr. Jonathan Singer, Mark Henick, Dr. Jill Harkavy-Friedman
[Dr. April Foreman opens the session:]
Not everyone who’s suicidal looks the way we expect. Some people joke more, work harder, or smile wider. And by the time warning signs are recognized, it can be too late. Today, I want to challenge our assumptions. Let’s begin with this question:
What are some unexpected or commonly overlooked signs of suicidal thoughts that families, friends, or even clinicians often miss?
Dr. Jill Harkavy-Friedman:
We tend to look for signs of sadness—but sometimes, it’s the absence of any feeling at all. Emotional flatness. A shift from chaos to eerie calm. Many people report a sudden improvement right before a suicide attempt because they’ve made a final decision and feel relief. That’s not recovery—it’s risk.
Mark Henick:
When I was suicidal as a teenager, I became more productive. I smiled more. I said all the right things. That’s what scared me the most—I knew how to make people stop asking. When someone is struggling, they might become better at hiding it. So don’t just trust surface-level behavior. Ask twice. Look closer.
Dr. Kay Redfield Jamison:
In those who live with mood disorders, the warning signs often appear in the subtleties—irritability rather than sadness, reckless choices, sudden withdrawals from activities they once loved. And sometimes it’s a creative burst—writing late into the night, painting feverishly. It looks like energy, but it may be driven by pain.
Dese’Rae L. Stage:
The people I’ve interviewed who survived suicide attempts often say: “No one saw me.” Even as they dropped hints—canceled plans, joked about death, gave away items—those cues didn’t register. We have to stop expecting neon signs. Most people whisper their pain. We need to become better listeners.
Dr. Jonathan Singer:
Sometimes what people show is not a red flag—but a gray flag. A subtle change in sleep. A missed deadline. A vague post online. These might seem small alone, but in context, they add up. We need to train families and communities to recognize shifts in pattern, not just dramatic breakdowns.
[Dr. April Foreman reflects briefly:]
That’s powerful—gray flags, not red ones. Let's move deeper.
In a world full of distractions and digital noise, how can we become more attuned to the emotional undercurrents that indicate someone might be at risk—even when they’re not saying it out loud?
Dese’Rae L. Stage:
We have to build real intimacy—not just exchange likes or quick texts. Notice the language people use over time. Has it become more cynical? More self-deprecating? Are they withdrawing digitally, too? The more we understand their baseline, the more we can detect the drift.
Dr. Jonathan Singer:
Online behavior is key—people may post ambiguous or artistic expressions of pain, hoping someone will decode it. Respond. Comment. Call. People rarely say “I’m suicidal.” But they might say “I’m tired of this” or “I don’t know why I try anymore.” Those aren’t throwaway lines. They’re invitations.
Mark Henick:
I always tell people: If you get a gut feeling something’s off—trust it. Don't wait for confirmation. Reaching out can feel awkward, but awkwardness is a small price to pay if it saves someone’s life. Ask, “How are you really?” And then sit with the answer, even if it’s uncomfortable.
Dr. Kay Redfield Jamison:
Poetry, art, music—those are often emotional seismographs. Pay attention to what people create, what they read, what they share. Depression doesn't always speak in direct terms. Sometimes it sings softly through metaphor.
Dr. Jill Harkavy-Friedman:
You don’t need special training to notice that someone’s energy feels off. Empathy is a skill we can sharpen. Pause. Tune in. Ask follow-up questions. The more we show up as emotionally present, the more likely someone will reveal their truth.
[Dr. April Foreman nods deeply:]
Let’s close this with something direct and useful.
If someone listening suspects that someone in their life may be silently struggling, what’s one specific action they can take today that could genuinely help—without needing to be an expert?
Dr. Kay Redfield Jamison:
Be available. Not just once, but again and again. Send a short message: “I’m thinking of you today. No pressure to reply.” That tells someone they matter without demanding emotional labor.
Mark Henick:
Use real language. Say, “Are you thinking about suicide?” It doesn’t put the idea in their head—it opens the door they’ve likely been staring at alone. Ask directly, calmly, and with love.
Dr. Jonathan Singer:
Don’t underestimate the power of being present. Offer to go for a walk. Bring coffee. Show up. When people feel seen in ordinary moments, extraordinary things happen inside them.
Dr. Jill Harkavy-Friedman:
Talk to them like you believe in their future—even if they don’t. Say things like, “I’m really glad you’re here.” Let them borrow your hope until they find their own.
Dese’Rae L. Stage:
Stop waiting for someone to be in crisis to check in. Text your people. Leave a voicemail. Comment on a quiet post. Be the person who sees the whisper.
[Dr. April Foreman closes:]
Thank you all. Today you reminded us that suicide is often hidden in plain sight—and that prevention isn’t about heroic rescues. It’s about noticing, listening, and refusing to look away.
Topic 3: Love Without Pressure — How to Support Without Controlling

Moderator: Dr. Gabor Maté
Panelists: Dr. Kristin Neff, Alain de Botton, Dr. Dan Siegel, Nedra Glover Tawwab, Dr. Lisa Damour
[Dr. Gabor Maté opens the session:]
So many parents, friends, and partners believe they are helping when they offer advice, raise expectations, or push for change. But sometimes, love begins to feel like pressure—and pressure, when unrelenting, can become pain. Let’s begin with this:
How can love—even when well-intentioned—become emotionally suffocating or harmful for someone who is already struggling?
Dr. Lisa Damour:
Teenagers, for instance, are hypersensitive to judgment, even when it’s subtle. “I just want you to do your best” can feel like “Your best isn’t enough.” We don’t mean to pressure them—but when love is constantly linked to achievement, they start believing they’re only valuable when they succeed.
Dr. Dan Siegel:
From a neuroscience perspective, when a person’s nervous system is in a state of emotional dysregulation—say, due to anxiety or trauma—external control feels like danger. Even gentle nudges can be perceived as threats. The mind retreats. What’s needed is attuned presence, not force.
Alain de Botton:
Love becomes oppressive when it ceases to make room for failure. Many people are driven by fear, even in affection: “I push you because I care.” But love that only exists in the form of performance creates unbearable loneliness. Especially for those with suicidal thoughts, it confirms the belief that they are only lovable when “fixed.”
Nedra Glover Tawwab:
Codependency often hides under the mask of care. If we are uncomfortable with someone’s discomfort, we may over-function—trying to control their process to soothe our own anxiety. That doesn’t help them heal. It only says: “Your pain makes me unsafe.”
Dr. Kristin Neff:
People who are struggling don’t need pressure—they need permission. Permission to be broken. To move slowly. To not be okay. When love becomes about “getting better” on someone else’s timeline, it becomes conditional. That erodes trust, fast.
[Dr. Gabor Maté nods:]
So then, how can we show up with compassion and concern—especially as parents, friends, or partners—without becoming controlling or overwhelming?
Dr. Kristin Neff:
Begin with self-compassion. If we don’t tend to our own fears, we project them onto the people we love. When someone’s hurting, try saying: “I’m here with you, not to change you.” That changes everything.
Nedra Glover Tawwab:
Boundaries matter—even with care. Ask, “Would it be helpful if I offered ideas, or do you just want me to listen?” That gives the other person autonomy. And when people feel respected, they’re more likely to open up.
Dr. Lisa Damour:
Use what I call “emotional GPS.” Name what you see—“You seem tired, withdrawn”—and then pause. Let them steer. Don’t rush to conclusions or assume you know the destination. Your role is to stay in the car, not take the wheel.
Alain de Botton:
Offer presence, not pressure. Instead of saying, “Have you tried therapy?” try, “Would it help to talk about what this feels like right now?” Most of us want company in the storm, not solutions for the rain.
Dr. Dan Siegel:
Co-regulate before you communicate. If you enter a conversation anxious or agitated, their brain senses it. Stay calm. Breathe. Model nervous system safety. Because when people feel safe, they become reachable.
[Dr. Gabor Maté softens:]
That speaks to the heart. Let me ask one final question to close this circle:
What is one sentence someone can say today to a loved one that offers true support—without control, without pressure, just presence?
Nedra Glover Tawwab:
“I trust you to find your way—and I’m here if you ever need a hand.” That gives space, and anchors connection.
Dr. Dan Siegel:
“Whatever you’re feeling, you don’t have to carry it alone.” That sentence calms the brain more than any solution.
Dr. Kristin Neff:
“It’s okay to not be okay. I’m not going anywhere.” The power of radical acceptance can be life-giving.
Alain de Botton:
“You don’t have to make sense today. I’ll still be here tomorrow.” That’s what real love sounds like.
Dr. Lisa Damour:
“You matter to me—no matter how you’re doing.” Especially for teens, that distinction is everything.
[Dr. Gabor Maté closes:]
We often think love is what saves—but sometimes it’s the space inside that love that gives people the breath to stay alive. Thank you all for helping us learn how to love without pressure.
Topic 4: After the Loss — How Families Process Guilt, Questions, and Healing
Moderator: David Kessler
Panelists: Cheryl Strayed, Dr. Alan Wolfelt, Nora McInerny, Dr. Pauline Boss, Frank Campbell
[David Kessler opens the session:]
When someone dies by suicide, the ones left behind are often crushed not only by grief—but by questions: “Did I miss something?” “Could I have stopped it?” “Was it my fault?” These are unbearable burdens that many carry alone. Today, we want to speak directly to those navigating that storm.
Let’s begin with this:
In your experience, what is one of the hardest truths survivors face after a suicide—and what makes it so emotionally complex?
Nora McInerny:
The hardest truth is that sometimes, we don’t get a clear reason. Suicide doesn’t always leave a note or a neat story. And the human brain wants a why. When there isn’t one, survivors fill in the blanks with guilt. “It must’ve been me.” But pain isn’t always preventable. That’s a brutal, heartbreaking fact.
Dr. Alan Wolfelt:
Many survivors discover that they had unknowingly constructed a narrative of control—“If I love enough, watch closely enough, I can keep people safe.” When suicide happens, that illusion shatters. The complexity lies in accepting that love is not always enough to prevent loss. That doesn’t mean love failed—it means suicide is complex.
Frank Campbell:
I’ve worked with thousands of suicide loss survivors. One of the most difficult realizations is that you never really knew the full depth of someone’s suffering. That gap between the image you held of them and the reality they lived with—that’s what haunts people. It creates endless “what ifs.”
Cheryl Strayed:
It’s hard to accept that someone you love chose to leave—even if it wasn’t a choice in the rational sense. It feels like rejection. And that becomes a second loss: not only are they gone, but we feel abandoned. That emotional wound is layered with shame, and few people know how to talk about it.
Dr. Pauline Boss:
This is what I call ambiguous loss. The person is gone, but not in a way that gives us peace. There’s no clean ending. The brain keeps searching for resolution. Suicide survivors often carry both trauma and mystery—and society doesn’t give them space to hold both.
[David Kessler gently continues:]
So many survivors feel isolated—like they’re grieving wrong, or too much. Let’s turn to that.
What are healthy ways survivors can begin to process the guilt, confusion, or even anger that follows a suicide loss?
Dr. Pauline Boss:
Name what you're feeling, without judging it. You can be angry and miss them. You can feel guilt and love. Embrace the paradox. Healing doesn’t mean resolving everything—it means making space for contradiction.
Cheryl Strayed:
Write it out. Speak it out. Find your language. The unsaid becomes the heavy part. When my mother died, I couldn’t write for months—but when I did, I didn’t write about answers. I wrote about longing. Let your grief speak, even if it has no punctuation.
Frank Campbell:
Join a suicide loss support group. The healing that happens in a room of people who get it—who’ve felt the same unspeakable grief—is profound. When you’re around people who won’t flinch at your pain, your healing accelerates.
Nora McInerny:
Say the person’s name. Talk about them as they were—not just how they died. We often reduce people to the moment of suicide. But they were so much more. Carrying their full story keeps the love intact, even as you grieve.
Dr. Alan Wolfelt:
Give yourself permission to mourn in your own way. Crying, creating, yelling, silence—it’s all valid. Don’t rush closure. You don’t need to “move on.” You need to move with the loss, at your own pace.
[David Kessler reflects quietly:]
Beautiful and true. As we close this conversation...
What would you say to someone who just lost someone to suicide—and doesn’t know how they will survive this pain?
Nora McInerny:
You don’t have to survive it all today. Just this hour. Just this breath. There is no right way to grieve—only your way. And you’re not alone, even if it feels that way.
Dr. Pauline Boss:
This pain will always live with you—but so will your capacity to carry it. You are not broken. You are grieving something that doesn’t have neat edges. That’s human.
Frank Campbell:
Ask for help—not because you’re weak, but because you deserve to be held. You don’t have to make meaning today. You only have to keep breathing.
Cheryl Strayed:
Grief is a wilderness. There is no map. But if you let your heart stay open, you will meet others walking the same dark road. And when you do, it won’t feel quite as lonely.
Dr. Alan Wolfelt:
Let your love continue—not through suffering, but through memory, through acts of kindness, through speaking their name with courage. The bond doesn’t end. It changes.
[David Kessler closes:]
To all who are grieving, please remember: you are not alone, and your grief is not a problem to fix. It’s a testament to your love. And love, even in pain, is still sacred.
Topic 5: Culture, Silence, and Stigma — Why We Still Don’t Talk About Suicide Honestly
Moderator: Dr. Thema Bryant
Panelists: Anderson Cooper, Russell Brand, Dr. Victor Schwartz, Imade Nibokun, Dr. Sally Spencer-Thomas
[Dr. Thema Bryant opens the session:]
Even in 2025, suicide is still a taboo topic in many families, communities, and institutions. Cultural beliefs, religious fear, gender expectations, and shame often keep people silent—until it’s too late. Today we ask: What will it take to make honest, healing conversations about suicide possible?
Let’s start with this:
What cultural or societal forces most commonly keep people from speaking openly about suicidal thoughts—or from seeking help before it’s too late?
Imade Nibokun:
In many Black churches, we are told to “pray it away” or “just be strong.” Mental health is framed as weakness, or worse, disobedience. That makes it nearly impossible to say, “I’m not okay.” So people stay silent—and the silence kills. We need more language, more room, more grace.
Dr. Victor Schwartz:
In high-pressure environments—like elite schools, medicine, law—the unspoken rule is: Don’t show cracks. People internalize the message that their worth is tied to performance. Admitting suicidal thoughts feels like professional suicide. We’ve institutionalized emotional suppression.
Russell Brand:
Society teaches us to be curated versions of ourselves. Instagram smiles, hustle culture, toxic positivity. If you’re in pain, the system tells you, “Don’t ruin the mood.” So you edit your pain out of the conversation. The result? Loneliness becomes epidemic.
Dr. Sally Spencer-Thomas:
Men are especially affected by “stoic masculinity.” They’re taught to handle pain with silence, not vulnerability. And when they do speak, they’re often met with discomfort or minimization. We have to redefine strength—not as suppression, but as openness.
Anderson Cooper:
Grief, trauma, depression—none of these emotions are socially convenient. They make people uncomfortable. So we hide them. In my own life, I felt like I had to be the calm one, the composed one. But the truth is, vulnerability doesn’t make you weak—it makes you real. And that’s how we connect.
[Dr. Thema Bryant nods deeply:]
Thank you. Let’s now explore action.
What can families, schools, workplaces, or faith communities do to create safe spaces where people feel truly free to speak about suicidal thoughts?
Dr. Sally Spencer-Thomas:
Make mental health visible. Not just in a pamphlet, but in policy, in training, in everyday language. Let “mental health day” be as normal as a sick day. When people see it modeled, they stop seeing themselves as broken.
Anderson Cooper:
Normalize conversations about grief and mental health the way we do with weather or sports. Start with your own story. When I spoke publicly about my brother’s suicide, people started sharing with me. And I realized: the shame dissolves when we speak.
Russell Brand:
Use art, humor, and storytelling to reach the heart. People won’t always open up in clinical settings—but they will through music, jokes, poetry. Truth bypasses defenses when it arrives through beauty.
Dr. Victor Schwartz:
Train gatekeepers—teachers, coaches, managers—to notice behavioral shifts and open conversations early. And change the language. Don’t ask, “Are you okay?” Ask, “Are you feeling emotionally safe lately?” The words we use shape the doors we open.
Imade Nibokun:
Challenge stigma directly. If someone jokes dismissively about suicide, speak up. If your pastor preaches that depression is sin, ask questions. Silence is how stigma survives. Community care means collective courage.
[Dr. Thema Bryant continues:]
Now, for our final question:
What is one sentence someone can say that helps dismantle shame and opens the door for someone to talk about suicidal thoughts?
Russell Brand:
“There’s nothing you could say that would scare me away.” That’s what I needed to hear when I was in the darkest places. Not solutions—just presence.
Imade Nibokun:
“You don’t have to be strong right now.” That sentence gives people permission to put down their mask and speak from their soul.
Dr. Sally Spencer-Thomas:
“I care more about you being here than about you being perfect.” That reframes love as acceptance, not expectation.
Anderson Cooper:
“It’s okay to talk about hard things here.” People open up when they feel like the room can hold their truth. Make that invitation explicit.
Dr. Victor Schwartz:
“If you ever feel like it’s too much, you can come to me—no judgment, no fixing, just listening.” That turns fear into connection.
[Dr. Thema Bryant closes:]
Silence protects stigma. But storytelling protects lives. The more we speak, the more others will too. And in that chorus of truth, healing becomes not just possible—but collective.
Final Thoughts by Emily
If you’ve made it this far, thank you.
I used to think talking about suicide was dangerous. That saying the word out loud might summon something terrible. But silence is more dangerous. Silence is where shame grows. It's where our loved ones get lost.
Noah once wrote in his journal, “I don’t want to die—I just want the pain to stop.” I wish I had read that while he was still here. I wish I had known how to sit beside him in the dark without turning on a light too quickly. I wish I had known that presence—not perfection—is what saves lives.
So here’s what I know now:
If someone in your life is hurting, show up. Not once, but over and over again.
Ask hard questions gently.
Don’t rush their healing.
And if you’re hurting—you’re allowed to tell someone.
You are not a burden.
You are not alone.
And the world is better with you in it.
For Noah. For your someone. For you.
Let’s keep the conversation going.
Short Bios:
Alain de Botton – Philosopher and founder of The School of Life, Alain writes and speaks about emotional intelligence, vulnerability, and how philosophy can help us better understand ourselves and others.
Anderson Cooper – Emmy-winning journalist and CNN anchor, Anderson has spoken openly about grief, trauma, and the suicide of his brother, advocating for honest public conversations around loss.
Cheryl Strayed – Author of Wild and Tiny Beautiful Things, Cheryl shares personal reflections on grief, resilience, and the messy, unspoken parts of love and healing.
David Kessler – One of the world’s foremost experts on grief, David co-authored books with Elisabeth Kübler-Ross and founded grief.com, focusing on finding meaning after loss.
Dese’Rae L. Stage – Photographer, writer, and suicide attempt survivor, Dese’Rae created Live Through This, a powerful portrait series amplifying the voices of suicide attempt survivors.
Dr. Alan Wolfelt – Founder of the Center for Loss and Life Transition, Dr. Wolfelt is a grief educator and counselor helping people navigate mourning with compassion and structure.
Dr. April Foreman – Clinical psychologist and leading voice in suicide prevention, Dr. Foreman works at the intersection of crisis intervention, technology, and compassionate care.
Dr. Christine Moutier – Chief Medical Officer at the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP), Dr. Moutier brings decades of clinical and policy expertise to suicide prevention research.
Dr. Dan Siegel – Psychiatrist and pioneer in interpersonal neurobiology, Dr. Siegel explores the role of brain integration, connection, and mindful presence in emotional regulation.
Dr. Jill Harkavy-Friedman – Vice President of Research at AFSP, Dr. Harkavy-Friedman has led groundbreaking studies on early intervention, suicidal behavior, and community response.
Dr. Jonathan Singer – President of the American Association of Suicidology, Dr. Singer is a licensed clinical social worker specializing in youth suicide prevention and family engagement.
Dr. Kay Redfield Jamison – Clinical psychologist and author of An Unquiet Mind, Dr. Jamison is one of the world’s foremost experts on bipolar disorder and suicide among creatives.
Dr. Kristin Neff – Researcher, professor, and co-developer of the concept of self-compassion, Dr. Neff helps people transform inner criticism into kindness and resilience.
Dr. Lisa Damour – Psychologist and author of Untangled and The Emotional Lives of Teenagers, Dr. Damour focuses on adolescent development, stress, and emotional regulation.
Dr. Pauline Boss – Family therapist and researcher who introduced the concept of “ambiguous loss,” Dr. Boss helps people cope with grief that lacks closure or clarity.
Dr. Sally Spencer-Thomas – Clinical psychologist, speaker, and founder of ManTherapy.org, Dr. Spencer-Thomas works to reduce mental health stigma, especially among men.
Dr. Thomas Joiner – Distinguished researcher and author of Why People Die by Suicide, Dr. Joiner developed the Interpersonal Theory of Suicide, now foundational in prevention science.
Dr. Victor Schwartz – Psychiatrist and expert on mental health in high-stress environments, Dr. Schwartz has advised academic institutions and workplaces on suicide prevention.
Dr. Thema Bryant – Licensed psychologist, minister, and President of the APA, Dr. Bryant focuses on trauma recovery, cultural healing, and turning pain into purpose.
Frank Campbell – Creator of the LOSS Team (Local Outreach to Suicide Survivors), Frank is a crisis response leader and counselor specializing in postvention care for families.
Imade Nibokun – Writer and mental health activist, Imade challenges cultural and religious stigma around mental illness in communities of color through her work and lived experience.
Johann Hari – British author of Lost Connections, Johann writes about depression, loneliness, and the social roots of mental suffering with a focus on human connection.
Kevin Hines – Suicide survivor, filmmaker, and mental health advocate, Kevin tells his story of jumping from the Golden Gate Bridge and how a single act of connection could have saved him.
Nedra Glover Tawwab – Therapist and New York Times bestselling author of Set Boundaries, Find Peace, Nedra empowers people to practice healthy emotional boundaries and relational safety.
Nora McInerny – Author and host of Terrible, Thanks for Asking, Nora brings humor, honesty, and depth to conversations about grief, identity, and emotional messiness.
Russell Brand – Comedian, author, and outspoken mental health advocate, Russell uses wit and personal experience to challenge societal shame around addiction, trauma, and emotional truth.
Emily (Fictional Character) – A mother who lost her 17-year-old son, Noah, to suicide, Emily now speaks from the heart to help others understand the quiet signs, hidden pain, and emotional landscapes that often go unnoticed. She represents countless parents, siblings, and loved ones who live with unanswered questions. Through her honesty and compassion, Emily invites readers to listen deeper, love without pressure, and speak what too often remains unspoken. Her voice carries the grief of loss—but also the courage to transform it into connection.
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