Sweatpants & Pop Culture | Festivus 2018
Y’all. Y’ALL. I don’t know about you but I have had a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad 2018. VERY BAD. I’m way past “there will never be enough booze on this [...]
loss
Notes from Nanea | The Parts of You
My dear Sweatpants & Coffee tribe, To say that I am a different person now than I was just a few years ago is technically true but a gross understatement. It’s like [...]
Sweatpants & Soul | In Defense of Grief
At the time that they leave, it feels like we will never be the same again. And it turns out that that is true. We are redefined after we lose someone who was a big part of [...]
Notes from Nanea | Things I Would Have Wanted to Hear When I Was in the Pit
My dear Sweatpants & Coffee tribe, In case you’re wondering where I’ve been, the short answer would be Hawaii. The more honest answer would be the Pit of Despair, not [...]
That’s What She Said | The Losses and Gains of Cutting Toxic People
Relationships can be toxic. Regardless of what we want to believe about the people in our lives, simply being in physical or emotional proximity to them can be detrimental to [...]
Personal Essays | Motherless Day
The dead mother's club is one club you don't want to join. Mother's Day can be painful for many and seeking support from fellow "club members" can help you get through it. [...]
Sweatpants & Soul | In the Darkness, Together
I was a teenager when I first encountered death. It was summertime and the nights were uncomfortably warm. It was the kind of heat that made you sweat even if you stood still [...]
Sweatpants & Soul | Healing Beneath the Christmas Tree
Since childhood, I’ve always viewed the Christmas season as a magical time of year. Despite the chill of the December air, there is also a certain warmth and coziness that [...]
Personal Essays | Abandoned, Not Once but Twice
"Both my father and Danny belonged to that time in my past when I first encountered male rejection. They were, in fact, the first perpetrators." [...]
The Bossy Hawaiian Moon, Grief, and Hope
When my sister was a baby, I spoke for her. I don’t know if I was trying to be helpful or if I was, at nearly three years, simply used to being the primary object in our [...]
