A beautifully written essay from a woman who clearly reads Goop non-ironically. If that sounds good to you, pick this up immediately.

Shraya uses a series of hilariously odd and silly bits of "proof" to bolster a true and yet spectacularly obvious central premise. That premise is that people fear change, but change is good. Seriously, it is that banal. But then she stretches the premise to support the absolutely false assertion that finding a sense of contentment or satisfaction with any aspect of your life and therefore choosing not to change that thing is a repudiation of the goal of being open to new things. That bit of twisted logic is consistent with the entire book.

I imagine that for a transfeminine, nonbinary, brown, queer person (she chooses these specific identifiers herself at the end of the essay) thoughts about transformation and reinvention, and feelings of being demonized for that transformation, are very present every day. I am happy for Shraya that she has found answers that make her life work for her. Still, so many of the things she says are silly. For one thing, Madonna and her transformations are used as the sine qua non of personal growth. Please. They are characters to keep fans interested, just as they were for David Bowie and many other performers. I loved David Bowie, and I find Madonna interesting though I cannot count myself a fan of her output, but for both of performers these things are brand strategies, creation and recreation to keep fans interested, that owe more to the Spice Girls than to Siddhartha. Vivek wonders if the fact that she has not changed her hair color in years is evidence that she has stopped growing. (Seriously? Did she read that in Seventeen? Or is she just that vacant?) In discussing the very real. but also already widely written about issue that women are damned if they pay too much attention to beauty and then dismissed if they abandon culturally defined beauty standards she lionizes the youngest Jenner. In the same discussion she talks about how she made a decision to wear the exact same outfit every day she teaches (black leggings and a white dress shirt) and when a student asks if this choice has political meaning she insists that is evidence that women are questioned at all times about their choices regarding appearance even when their choices are drab. This is true, but the example is weird. If you knew someone who wore the same outfit every single day, regardless of that person's gender, would you not wonder why? There is a discussion of the song Landslide that is baffling and ultimately empty, and also does not belong in this book. In addition to the vacancy of her deep thoughts, Shraya frequently tosses off observations that require explanation and just leaves them. One example that stands out is when she "bravely" agrees to ride a horse despite not being an animal person and explains she does not like cats because she is a cat. That is it -- never mentioned again.

Ultimately the whole is very high school litmag, but the litmag at a really good high school -- or maybe graduation speech content, but for a super liberal and brainy college like Oberlin or UC Santa Cruz. I generally dislike self-help, and this does read very self-help, so if that sort of reading appeals to you you may enjoy this more than I did. It is a well written addition to that particular canon. Otherwise you can skip it. ( )