Before I ever became an author, I was a reader first; which means before I wrote characters wrestling with the questions I, myself, have, I was looking for books that did the same. When I came across Courtney Milan‘s Cyclone series, I was drawn to the stories because of the covers and then stuck around because the protagonists were diverse (culture, gender identification, race, sexual orientation). Also, because I have enjoyed previous Courtney Milan books I’ve read, I felt assured I’d enjoy these as well. However, what I didn’t count on was being all in my feels.
All in my feels.
These two books reminded me we do not read in a vacuum. Even as we try to escape the real world, no one ever goes on vacation without bringing baggage. We might not understand all that we’re packing, but it’s coming with us. And during these two reads, I ended up rifling through all the baggage I’d been carrying since childhood. This was a good thing.
A timely thing.
I should’ve known upon reading Trade Me this wouldn’t just be an escape from the real world. Normally, I don’t read first-person books because I prefer a level of distance between me and the characters; and then because I was listening to this as an audiobook, I was even more hesitant to give this title a try. However, the sample I heard drew me in and the overall performances were great. More importantly, the story was hitting so many aspects of my life that I’m currently working through that I could barely put the earphones down. I listened to Trade Me during my commutes to and from work; during my breaks; and right before I went to bed. Listening to the hero Blake Reynolds say, “I have a problem” as he deals with his grief over losing a loved one and channels the bulk of that grief and other anxieties into maladaptive eat habits and overexercise, I was thinking how my own relationship with food and appetite changed when I first lost my mother—and not for the better. Also, listening to heroine Tina Chen navigate through loving her mother even as she resents her; making career choices so she can take care of her family instead of what will spiritually sustain her; and exhuming a guilt she’s carried for so long she subconsciously let that guilt create a narrative to dictate how she’s lived much of her life was all familiar. Intimately so.
And then I continued the series with Hold Me.
Whew.
Low Self-esteem Sexual abuse at a young age can make children susceptible to future mental problems. viagra 25mg prix Low energy and stamina level can contribute towards a number of physical and mental disorders in men and sildenafil generic women. Eperium India, is one of the best known companies providing the best consultancy services for its clients for more than 5 generic cialis online years and we have proven track record to back it up. Vitamin supplements should be added viagra purchase uk to your diet, especially vitamin B12.
Maria Lopez and Jay na Thalang’s story had some common themes with Tina and Blake’s story. Like Tina, Jay worked through his grief and guilt via academics; and while I don’t have the accolades Jay does (i.e., I’m not a tenure-track professor before age 30), I can admit I used school as a place to escape because at least I could do well there. Like Blake and his product engineering for Cyclone, Maria used her blog as an outlet to channel her anxieties and it became successful—so much so she was able to parlay a career move with it (also like Maria, I used my writing to channel my hopes and fantasies for love, and I did well enough to secure an agent).
Yet despite all the career success, the areas in their lives where they truly wanted to succeed remained lacking. (Familiar scenario is also, painfully, familiar.) Jay wanted expectations. Maria wanted to be seen as enough. However, what I appreciated most about Hold Me was realizing that being told the things you want to hear—need to hear the most—isn’t the magic elixir that fixes everything. But more importantly, it takes a skilled writer like Milan to have a reader stay empathetic to the characters’ mess, be generous to these broken people trying to piece themselves together so the puzzles they can be completed into something beautiful. It’s a pardon we give to others, but we don’t give to ourselves. At least I don’t.
“I don’t think I could have ever told you that you were enough until I believed I was too.”
– Maria Lopez, Hold Me
There were so many lines between the two books that resonated with me deeply, making me bookmark the sections so I can go back and listen to them again, but this was the line that brought me to tears. Before Maria says this, she has to work through her own fears of not being enough, of deserving to be loved, of being accepted for who she is without conditions, of being chosen instead of rejected. She even contacts her therapist to help her through this navigation, because why do it alone when that’s not necessary? It takes strength to ask for help and the belief we are worth it to accept it. Perhaps that’s why it’s so difficult for me to do both. But I’m getting better.
As I’ve written before, I’m currently on my own journey to be courageous, and believing I’m enough to be deserving of love (particularly romantic love) despite (in spite of?) my broken, jagged messiness is a goal. To read characters having that breakthrough gave me a spark of hope that it’s possible for me. Even if I’m the only person who is doing the loving.
Especially if I’m the only person doing the loving.
Trade Me and Hold Me were the exact type of books I like to read and attempt to write—an escape or a reprieve grounded in realism. They took me through a gamut of emotions that were all well-earned and left me feeling satisfied and hopeful at the end. These are two titles I’ll definitely be revisiting and will recommend with verve.
Trackbacks/Pingbacks