Tiny Beautiful Things

sugar says


After reading Tiny Beautiful Things, Advice on love and life from Dear Sugar by Cheryl Strayed, I immediately logged it in my mind as one of my favourite books of all time. This is surprising to me because I don’t normally like advice columns let alone a whole book on them. This book is different though. I wish all advice columns in magazines and newspapers or online could be as honest and wise as Dear Sugar. This book kicked me in the gut a few times and I found myself sobbing more than once (not just tearing up either – sobbing) but I also caught myself smiling often and I was always left with a feeling of gratitude and satisfaction by her words.

Sugar—the once-anonymous online columnist at TheRumpus.net, now revealed as Cheryl Strayed, author of the best selling memoir Wild—is the person thousands turn to for advice. I’ve never met Cheryl Strayed but I wish she lived close and met me for lunch every now and again. I’d love to hang out with this woman. Here’s one offering from her book (originally on therumpus.net) so you know what I mean. Enjoy!

Dear Sugar,

I read your column religiously. I’m 22. From what I can tell by your writing, you’re in your early 40s. My question is short and sweet: what would you tell your 20-something self if you could talk to her now?

Seeking Wisdom

Cheryl-StrayedDear Seeking Wisdom,

Stop worrying about whether you’re fat. You’re not fat. Or rather, you’re sometimes a little bit fat, but who gives a shit? There is nothing more boring and fruitless than a woman lamenting the fact that her stomach is round. Feed yourself. Literally. The sort of people worthy of your love will love you more for this, sweet pea.

In the middle of the night in the middle of your twenties when your best woman friend crawls naked into your bed, straddles you, and says, You should run away from me before I devour you, believe her.

You are not a terrible person for wanting to break up with someone you love. You don’t need a reason to leave. Wanting to leave is enough. Leaving doesn’t mean you’re incapable of real love or that you’ll never love anyone else again. It doesn’t mean you’re morally bankrupt or psychologically demented or a nymphomaniac. It means you wish to change the terms of one particular relationship. That’s all. Be brave enough to break your own heart.

When that really sweet but fucked up gay couple invites you over to their cool apartment to do ecstasy with them, say no.

There are some things you can’t understand yet. Your life will be a great and continuous unfolding. It’s good you’ve worked hard to resolve childhood issues while in your twenties, but understand that what you resolve will need to be resolved again. And again. You will come to know things that can only be known with the wisdom of age and the grace of years. Most of those things will have to do with forgiveness.

One evening you will be rolling around on the wooden floor of your apartment with a man who will tell you he doesn’t have a condom. You will smile in this spunky way that you think is hot and tell him to fuck you anyway. This will be a mistake for which you alone will pay.

Don’t lament so much about how your career is going to turn out. You don’t have a career. You have a life. Do the work. Keep the faith. Be true blue. You are a writer because you write. Keep writing and quit your bitching. Your book has a birthday. You don’t know what it is yet.

You cannot convince people to love you. This is an absolute rule. No one will ever give you love because you want him or her to give it. Real love moves freely in both directions. Don’t waste your time on anything else.

Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you’ll put up a good fight and lose. Sometimes you’ll hold on really hard and realize there is no choice but to let go. Acceptance is a small, quiet room.

One hot afternoon during the era in which you’ve gotten yourself ridiculously tangled up with heroin you will be riding the bus and thinking what a worthless piece of crap you are when a little girl will get on the bus holding the strings of two purple balloons. She’ll offer you one of the balloons, but you won’t take it because you believe you no longer have a right to such tiny beautiful things. You’re wrong. You do.

Your assumptions about the lives of others are in direct relation to your naïve pomposity. Many people you believe to be rich are not rich. Many people you think have it easy worked hard for what they got. Many people who seem to be gliding right along have suffered and are suffering. Many people who appear to you to be old and stupidly saddled down with kids and cars and houses were once every bit as hip and pompous as you.

When you meet a man in the doorway of a Mexican restaurant who later kisses you while explaining that this kiss doesn’t “mean anything” because, much as he likes you, he is not interested in having a relationship with you or anyone right now, just laugh and kiss him back. Your daughter will have his sense of humor. Your son will have his eyes.

The useless days will add up to something. The shitty waitressing jobs. The hours writing in your journal. The long meandering walks. The hours reading poetry and story collections and novels and dead people’s diaries and wondering about sex and God and whether you should shave under your arms or not. These things are your becoming.

One Christmas at the very beginning of your twenties when your mother gives you a warm coat that she saved for months to buy, don’t look at her skeptically after she tells you she thought the coat was perfect for you. Don’t hold it up and say it’s longer than you like your coats to be and too puffy and possibly even too warm. Your mother will be dead by spring. That coat will be the last gift she gave you. You will regret the small thing you didn’t say for the rest of your life.

Say thank you.


Isn’t she great?! Ah, if we could go back in time. I’ve imagined sitting down the younger, more insecure version of myself and having a good ol’ talk. I wouldn’t necessarily tell her to change her path, just her attitude and thoughts about herself. I’d probably say “Be kinder to yourself. And as I start to walk away I’d stop and add, “Let yourself be gutted. Let it open you. Start there.”




One Comment

  • Tracy Westerholm

    Unbelievable advice! I love her too Bon! Wow!

    My fav’s ~

    ~“Stop worrying about whether you’re fat….who gives a shit?” so true. We have good days and bad days and who in their right mind wants a partner who is only present on the good ones, being authentic doesn’t include airbrushing or always being quaffed. Disheveled is sexy! Eating chocolate gives us zits, and there are days a baseball cap is on for a reason, our priorities were NOT to be perfect!

    ~ …”breaking up with someone you love…you don’t need a reason to leave, wanting to leave is enough…Be brave enough to break your own heart” Amen Sista! Just be kind and always have respect!

    ~ “…your book has a birthday” hallelujah!

    ~ “…real love moves freely in both directions” Yup!

    ~ “…just laugh and kiss him back” Bahahhahahahaha giggle!

    Thanks for sharing Bonnie!


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