Too bad if this will seem weird to you, but I have to say it. And since I’m not doing traditional reviews, I’m allowed to be weird, right? Today, we talk a lot about feminism. Honestly, sometimes it feels like even a worse prison than the one imposed upon women by men in earlier centuries.
A woman must have a successful career, great education, amazing house she maintains perfectly, great kids… The list is endless. There’s another one that tells a woman how she should be — strong, confident, independent — and what she shouldn’t be. At times, I feel trapped in all this. And then comes this book.
I would admit, I read it very slowly and almost stopped on many occasions. But I didn’t, and I don’t regret it. A book is worth my time when it taught me something. This one did. It taught me that I don’t have to be exactly like all the empowered women of the world tell me to be in order to feel like I’m a feminist and comfortable in my skin. I’m allowed to be weak and cry over cheesy Hallmark movies. I’m allowed to dream about my Prince Charming and/or a man who would fix my life up like magic (even though I would likely hate his guts).
Justine is a feminist. As are all the other lost girls. They let men hurt them, they made mistakes and wrong choices, but they stayed strong. They fought for what they believed was right. They mapped out their own road, no matter how bumpy.
I wouldn’t try to guess what the author wanted the readers to find in this story. But I know what I found. Believe it or not, I found a stronger version of myself. And for that, thank you.