I don't listen to podcasts and I'm not really a comedian/tv person (other than what comes across my radar in the for of memes/clips on IG), so I had never heard of Chelsea Devontex before picking this up. Not that I'm sure a lot tv watchers know all the screenwriters for those shows anyways, but still, the point is, she is way outside my daily frame of reference. But I do appreciate a good memoir, and humor, and I was in the mood for something quick and funny and seemingly easy because the Holiday season is...a lot. So, armed with the ALC of this from Libro.fm and a robust rec from @thestackspod, I decided this was the winner for meeting those vibes. 

 

For real, this memoir is spectacular. Devontez's voice is a mix of tender and angry and heartfelt and humor that I feel like really shouldn’t be possible, and yettttttt, it clearly is. She tells her story in essay form, each of which is named for and built around telling the story of a woman (or a group of women or a representation of women or an inanimate thing she gave a woman’s name) who was supportive, inspiring, impactful, challenging, etc. in ways both healthful and very not, and in the end somehow helped her survive to be or shaped who she is today. In each case, even the horrible ones, she was able to find some kind of sweet spot or silver lining or satisfying reclamation that taught or gave her something. And I loved that framework. 

 

Throughout the essays, we get a range of stories about Devontez's fitful and uneven, but always passionate, childhood and adolescence. There is the "normal" stuff, like inconsistent (and paternally abusive) parenting, struggles with weight and body image, moving around, unhealthy friendships/relationships, fitting in and school-based achievements, getting into the comedy/acting business, general dating drama/humor. But again, her voice is so fresh that it doesn't feel normal at all. (O word: listening to the audiobook was perfect. Her narration is awesome; her voice is so natural and relatable.) And then she talks about some of the much less typical things she experienced, from some lighter aspects, like spirituality and belief in signs, etc. to some more complex topics, like medical complications/scares and sperm donation and being a donor child. This is, in fact, the first time I have read about that, and it was honestly a really interesting and insightful, but of course still humorous, introduction to that topic. It definitely made me interested in reading more, as the moral discussion parallels some adoption conversations as far as the psychological (and unknown biological marker) issues, and that all feels new to the public conscience and very worth learning more about. 

 

And finally: the big, scary, and unnamable domestic violence thing. This was such an affecting piece of the memoir even though, perhaps especially because, Devontez ended up unable to actually share the story with the reader. The inclusion of the chapters (to open and close the book) as they were meant to be, but with all the parts she wasn't legally allowed to say blacked out, was incredibly impactful. You can put together enough that you understand the outline of how bad it was. And yet, despite Devontez having to live and survive and move forward from it - it is her story - she is not allowed to share it?! That an abuser still has enough power that their survivor cannot tell their own story is…so beyond the pale…I am struggling to convey my reactions. These chapters with redacted sections sit so heavily (honestly more heavily than they even would have) because of what those redactions mean, because of whose reputation and life and story is clearly given more import/weight in the world, and because even the [poetic] justice that could have been minimally comforting is withheld... I have feelings. Phew. (A note here: read the Acknowledgements at the end. They too are funny, so worth it in that way. But also, if you wanna be even more infuriated at the system that led her to not be able to actually share her story…and know maybe where to try to affect change…it's important in that way too.) 

 

To circle back to the more positive side of the memoir to finish... The growth over time into what healthy female relationships can do for you - full of boundaries and love - is heart filling. Devontez is so vulnerable in these pages about her journey. And the humor is spot on. But that openness is the real beauty in these pages. And wow, the lessons in the final chapter, from Devontez to her “Young Me” that is out there and maybe reading this are, emotional. There were definitely tears. What a real and raw and hilarious memoir in essays. I really finished this and, with tears of laughter and anger and tenderness still fresh in my eyes, I had to ask myself: how does this much life happen to just one person?! 

 

“I reveled in the power of a woman who does not give a fuck.” 

 

“…I wanted to take all the things about femininity that I’d learned were weak and wield them onstage as a weapon.” 

 

“That’s the thing about gatekeepers. They can’t get past the wall with their own talent, so instead, they offer to guard the door.” 

 

“Shame wraps itself around our throats over time, slowly choking us, and we don't cry out for help because we think we're the only ones suffocating, and we don't want to be a bother. We are all taught to be sweet, be polite, be normal, don't rock the boat, so that those at the top can hold on to the power that doesn't belong to them in the first place.” 

 

“Every time someone shares their story, the lie that we are alone in our pain is shattered…” 

 

“On the flip side, I know many a woman who thinks that because she wants herself to succeed, and she is a woman, she is therefore a feminist, when really she cares nothing about the respect and right of us all, and in fact even benefits from the inequality so she can be the only woman at the boys' club and get more attention, which in her eyes is feminism!” (ooooof this sums it up so perfectly it’s frightening) 

 

“It is the women who crack a joke when the ship has been set on fire who have my undying allegiance.” 

 

“I had thought that savings, friends, connections, healing, time and likability could anoint me some power. But none of those things ate power. Only power is power.”