Book Review: Loose Girl

One of the treats I gave myself while on Spring Break last week was to go to the library, choose a book off the New Books rack, and actually read it from cover to cover.

I don't do that often enough any more. It seems like most of the books that capture my attention these days are in the self help genre. So this time I chose something from another favorite genre, memoir/biography.

Loose Girl: a memoir of promiscuity is written wonderfully by Kerry Cohen. It's her coming of age story, I suppose. At eleven years old, Kerry's family goes through the divorce process. Her mother is an artist turned medical student. Her father is a well-off designer ... and drug user.

Kerry is not emotionally close to her mother or sister. When her mom leaves the country for medical school, Kerry goes to live with her dad. There are not many boundaries in that household. Kerry gets into trouble, changes schools, ends up with preppy kids who have money and connections. She parties in New York City, spending lots of time in bars that don't look too closely at age restrictions. She gets into the drug scene. She buys friends.

But mostly, she is lonely and seeking attention and closeness. She gets it the way she knows best, through the use of her body. Kerry has a plethora of sexual encounters, always seeking someone to love her, settling for someone to be close to her physically, and ending up more emotionally distant and damaged each time.

The story is explicit and riveting. I found it very compelling and my heart went out to this young woman who was trying hard to figure out what real love feels like. She learns, the hard way, that love is much more of a decision than a feeling. She learns that until she can love and appreciate her own gifts, it will be hard for any man to love and appreciate her in the way she craves it.

I think I was most taken by the very last scene. She is happy, married, with children. And she's out at a bar with friends. She catches a boy's eye across the room, and all the old habits kick into gear: the looks, the flirtations, the body movements. But she resists and goes home to her husband:

I climb into bed, and half-asleep he rolls toward me. He slips an arm around my middle and nuzzles his face into my neck. I close my eyes and listen to him breathing. How lovely that sound is. Maybe, I think, I don't have to be great at this; maybe I just have to be good enough.

That is a sentiment that resonates strongly in my own life. I have been blessed with many talents and abilities and have earned awards to 'prove' my worth. But at some things, like emotional balance, I don't excel. So maybe I can simply be good enough.