You know those books that just sit on your nightstand for years, looking at you? The ones with the cracked spines and the tear-stained pages that you lend out but secretly hope come back because you need them like a literal oxygen tank? That is Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed.
Honestly, it’s not even a book in the traditional sense. It’s a collection of advice columns from back when Strayed was writing anonymously as "Sugar" for The Rumpus. But calling it an advice column is like calling the Pacific Crest Trail a "nice walk." It doesn’t quite cover the sheer, bone-crushing weight of it.
What Most People Get Wrong About Sugar
People think advice columns are for folks who can’t figure out how to fold a fitted sheet or deal with a loud neighbor. But Strayed—as Sugar—didn't do "mild." She did the heavy lifting. She answered the letters from the "Living Dead."
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The column became a cult phenomenon because she broke every rule in the book. Usually, an advice columnist stays distant. They’re the "expert" on the mountain. Not Cheryl. She crawled right into the mud with the people writing to her. If someone wrote in about losing a child, she didn't just give them a platitude. She told them about her own mother’s death. She talked about the "black hole" of grief that never really goes away but eventually gets smaller.
The Advice That Actually Changed Things
One of the most famous pieces in the book is "The Future Has an Ancient Heart." It was a commencement speech, basically. But instead of telling the graduates they were going to change the world, she told them they were "so god damned young." She told them that eight out of ten things they’d decided about themselves would prove to be false.
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That’s the thing about Tiny Beautiful Things Cheryl Strayed gave the world: it’s brutally honest. It’s the "Write like a motherf*cker" energy. It’s the idea that your "ghost ship" (the life you didn't choose) is always sailing away, and you have to let it go to live the life you actually have.
Why We’re Still Obsessed in 2026
You’d think a book based on 2010-era internet columns would feel dated. It doesn't. In fact, in a world that feels increasingly hollow and AI-generated, Strayed’s voice feels like a warm hand on your shoulder.
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We saw this resonance again when Hulu dropped the miniseries starring Kathryn Hahn. Hahn played Clare, a fictionalized version of a woman becoming Sugar while her own life was a total dumpster fire. It worked because it captured the core truth of the book: you don't have to have your life together to be kind. You don't have to be "healed" to help someone else heal.
Real Talk: The Themes That Stick
- Radical Empathy: Strayed doesn't judge. Even the "unlikable" letter writers—the cheaters, the liars—get a seat at her table.
- The "Tiny Beautiful Things": The title itself is a directive. It’s about finding the small, shimmering bits of good in a life that is otherwise falling apart.
- The Mother Wound: So much of this book is an open letter to Strayed’s late mother. It’s about "re-mothering" yourself when the person who was supposed to do it is gone.
Practical Ways to "Sugar" Your Own Life
If you’re feeling stuck, there are actually a few "Sugar-isms" you can apply right now. It sounds cheesy, but honestly, it works.
- Acknowledge the Ghost Ship. Stop mourning the version of you that moved to Paris or stayed with the "one that got away." Wave at that ship from the shore. Then turn around and look at the sand you're actually standing on.
- Trust Your Body. In one column, Strayed tells a woman who doesn't want to have sex with her husband to "be its employee." Your body knows when something is a "yes" or a "no" long before your brain catches up.
- Say Thank You. It’s her simplest advice and her hardest. When a gift is given—even a painful one—say thank you. It’s about radical acceptance.
Moving Forward
If you haven't read the book yet, do it. But maybe buy some tissues first. If you've already read it, go back to the "Johnny Rogue" letter or the one about the "Mister Sugar" marriage. There's always something new to find in those paragraphs.
Your next step: Pick up a physical copy of the book (the tactile experience matters here) and flip to a random page. Don't read it in order. Let the advice find you where you are today. If you've already got the book, lend it to the person in your life who looks like they’re carrying a heavy invisible backpack. They probably need to hear that they’re not alone.