Coach Is Cool Again... (and other life lessons)

Apparently, Coach is cool again.

And honestly? I didn’t realize there was ever a time it wasn’t.

Much like UGG boots, flared jeans, and ratty band tees, I just assumed Coach lived in that permanent gray area of culture where things quietly stay relevant while the Internet pretends they disappeared for a time. The funny thing about the Internet is that it has a way of convincing us that things are either in or out. Approved or embarrassing. Acceptable or cringe. There is no middle ground.

And whether we like it or not, many of us invest an alarming amount of stock in what the Internet says and does. I am not excluded.

For example, years ago when my hair was the healthiest it had ever been, I was using coconut oil on it between washes. My hair was long and shiny. Then one day someone on the Internet announced that coconut oil is actually terrible for your hair. Bad for your color. Counterintuitively strips moisture (literally, how?). And that you should lie down in traffic before ever putting coconut oil on your head again.

Despite the fact that my hair had never looked better, and despite the extremely strong evidence right on my own scalp—I believed the Internet. I stopped using coconut oil altogether.

That’s the power of repetition. Of influence.

As we close out 2025 and inch into 2026, I want to talk about something uncomfortable but necessary: we are listening to the Internet too much. Every day we scroll past opinions, rules, diagnoses, red flags, timelines, trends, and hot takes from people who do not know us, have never met us, and do not live our lives. And somehow, those voices start shaping how we think, what we want, and who we believe we are.

That’s not entertainment. That’s conditioning.

Repetition is powerful...even, and especially, when it’s wrong. There’s a psychological effect to hearing something over and over that makes it feel true. Think about relationships. Have you ever been with someone who constantly told you that you were stupid? (If the answer is yes, I am sincerely sorry) Or, on the flip side, someone who told you every single day that you were beautiful?  Eventually, you start to believe what you hear regardless of whether it’s aligned with your reality.

The Internet understands this well. It doesn’t reward nuance. It rewards certainty. Not accuracy—confidence. Not truth, but viral-ity (new word!).

And the holidays? They’re already emotional in the best of circumstances. Add the Internet into the mix and it becomes gasoline on the fire. One of the fastest ways to drain joy from your own life is to compare it to someone else’s...especially when that life has been curated, filtered, and captioned to perfection. 

Even now, as I’ve settled into a comfortable routine and a status quo that works for my life and for sharing custody of my children, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sometimes pause on a post. The nuclear family pics by the tree. The backyard ice rink. A tropical Christmas vacation. Mom, Dad, brother, sister—framed like a stock photo of wholesomeness. As grounded as I am in my reality, there’s still a small part of me that wishes my kids and their Dad and I were having that version of the story. Even when I wholeheartedly know that where we are is what is best for all of us. We are only human.

And then there are the timelines.

Maybe you’ve been dating someone for six years, wondering when the next step is coming, while your feed fills with engagement rings. Maybe you’re trying to have a baby—tracking ovulation, doing all the things—and suddenly every crunchy granola MOMfluencer you follow is announcing a pregnancy “without even trying.” Maybe someone just bought a house and you’re wondering how that’s possible in what can only be described as a housing and cost of living crisis.

Maybe it’s a body transformation. A career win. Paired with humble caption for a very loud success.

What you often don’t see are the trade offs.

You don’t see what they sacrificed. What they struggled with. The people white knuckling their marriages in therapy to stay together. The late nights and overtime at work. What they gave up to gain that one thing. You’re comparing your intimate, behind the scenes knowledge of your own life with someone else’s heavily condensed and filtered highlight reel.

Every accomplishment comes with a cost.

Time.
Energy.
Comfort.
Relationships.

And while you’re busy looking at someone else’s success, you might actually be protecting something you value more—stability, softness, sanity. Things that don’t photograph well but matter deeply.

So the next time you catch yourself scrolling and thinking, Why aren’t I there yet? pause. Ask yourself out loud, if you need to:

What season am I actually in right now?

Contrary to popular belief, you’re allowed to talk to yourself. You’re allowed to ask yourself questions AND answer them. Because if the Internet has taught us anything, it’s this: what we repeatedly hear, what we pay attention to, and what we absorb eventually becomes what we believe.

Are you in a rebuilding season? A healing one? A season of learning how to be alone, or how to be steady, or how to stop burning yourself out for things you don’t even want anymore? Are you in a season where your biggest accomplishment is getting through the day without unraveling? Because that still counts, even if it doesn’t trend.

And I will say that over time, there has been an influx of genuinely useful, grounding, positive accounts we can choose to follow. Accounts that help us feel seen and less alone in the hard seasons. Not everything is outfits and glitz and glam—fun as those are. We’re seeing mental health content for men and women. Divorce support. Easy meals for on the go sports parents. Corporate girly content that’s actually wholesome and relatable. Accounts for parents raising kids with special needs. The Internet can be a really good place.

And by all means—if you’re looking for outfit inspo or how to draw the perfect cat eye with a piece of Scotch tape, it’s excellent at that too.

But we have to stay aware of what we’re ingesting.

Because the same media that told you Coach and UGGs were “out” is the same media that can quietly convince you that you are behind. That your life isn’t shiny enough. That your house isn’t aesthetic enough. Clean enough. Calm enough. Successful enough. And suddenly it’s not about a bag or a boot....it’s about your worth. It becomes a never-ending doom loop of or or or or.

So when someone recently told me Coach was cool again, I was like… wait, what?

I don’t remember thinking anything against Coach but I also hadn’t shopped there in over twelve years. Then I found myself in a city with a Coach store, wandered in, and bought a few things. And honestly? It felt like a small reclaiming. A quiet little “actually, I like this.” They’ve clearly done a rebrand, and I’m into it.

Which feels fitting, because I’m already seeing “2025 Gratitude Posts,” and I genuinely love reading them. But what I should add is how much healing it took for me to get there. Gratitude isn’t always soft and sparkly. Sometimes it’s gritty. Sometimes even being supportive of someone else takes a lot out of us. 

If all you have to be grateful for this year is not ending up in prison for murd**, I celebrate you. If you finally got that rainbow baby after years of trying, I’m sending you so much love. Gratitude doesn’t have a minimum requirement. It doesn’t have to look pretty. It just has to be honest.

And maybe that’s the point; whether it’s bags, boots, timelines, or entire lives. You get to decide what you let in. What you believe. What you reclaim.

Even if the YOU or the Internet changes its mind again next week. The most important seasons of life happen completely off camera.

Merry Crisis, Happy New Year, and thanks for reading xx

Kait