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288 pages, Paperback
First published April 25, 2017
My face is hot and the cold morning air burns my throat as I take deeper and deeper breaths.
Over and over and over again.
I can't keep it in anymore. I want to scream it and scream it and scream it. I'm exhausted. I know I'm not he only woman who's fucking exhausted. We work tirelessly only to be told that the hings at which we excel are unimportant. Running a home and having a career, all the while keeping effortlessly slim. Being cheerleaders and therapists to men who assure that, unlike women, they need neither. How can I help? What can I do? What more can I give you? Will this be enough? Am I valuable now? Will I ever do enough for you tell I'm important? Why do I care so much? Why do I believe you when you tell me I'm crazy and emotional? Why do I left you dictate what is meaningful?
. . . Nanette Peterman is most likely the dumbest person I’ve ever met � and in Los Angeles that’s saying something. When we were first introduced I asked her what her interests were and she answered, “I like outside.�And Nanette isn’t just there to raise the old hospital director’s status; Olivia is happy to befriend this empty vessel because she knows that having beautiful friends raises Olivia beyond anonymity herself. This behavior is left over from when she was a fat teen, meaning her body made her both highly visible and completely invisible in society. While it feels mean to laugh at Nanette � and I did, several times � she represents a conversation about beauty and thinness. Not expected to do anything other than be pretty, Nanette has fitted her role perfectly and reaffirmed society’s emphasis on sex and appearance.
“Being a woman can be such a mystery sometimes, we unconsciously look to these celebrities as surrogate mentors for our own femininity. They appear to be so natural, that we look to them to set the standard. . . . I’d even go so far as to say that you owe your very marriage and current happiness to non other than Caroline Whatever-her-name-is.�Conversations about what shapes society’s definition of women, how pop culture and reality clash, and the performances we all engage in on social media to create a life that we want others to believe � even if it’s not real � are woven in throughout the novel, elevating it beyond your basic beach read about the seemingly-perfect marriage.
“What? No,� I say. Leah’s eyes narrow. “Vegans don’t eat fish. Jillian eats fish, ergo she’s not vegan.�It’s as if Olivia has been an actor in a play written by society, and now she’s forgetting the lines required to accommodate a sexually attractive person. As she goes rogue, a new character, one whose not as nice or patient just because she’s in the presence of youth and beauty, emerges.
“But, I don’t eat fish,� Jillian announces, annoyed.
“Let’s just order, okay?� Leah suggests, her voice tight.
“I wonder what they have that’s vegan here,� Jillian muses, looking over the menu.
“Apparently, everything,� I say.
“Wow, someone has an overstimulated fifth chakra,� Elijah says, jumping in.