“To this day, I don’t know how I didn’t scream. Maybe I was just used to it by then, this idea that pain is meant to be endured quietly.”
It’s so unbelievably rare to see illness and/or disability at the forefront of any stories, in any form of media, because disability is not desirable, only - to some, not all - pitiable.
Disabled representation is oftentimes forgotten on the sole basis that the world, or at least a large portion of it, aren’t willing to hear our voices or let our disabilities be a core part of the story, because they don’t want to see us as anything other than just our disability.
As a fellow disabled, OwnVoices (as of yet, unpublished) author, whenever I walk into reading a book about disability, I tend to find myself holding my breath. There are so very many things that could go wrong, and be done wrong.
Breathe and Count Back from Ten put my worries and fears about how the topic of disability would be handled to bed, tucked it in tightly and gave it a sweet kiss on the forehead.
To say it was good would be a criminal understatement. In all honesty, I don’t think there’s a strong enough word to express my profound, deep love for this book and the story within.
While I don’t have hip dysplasia, I do have chronic hip dislocations and subluxations that have affected my day-to-day living exponentially.
Much like Verónica, my most problem hip is my left. When I went into this book, I really expected that our problem hips - and the fact that we both had hip issues in the first place - to be the only thing I felt truly, deeply connected to. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
There were several times that I felt knocked back, because it was as if I was reading something out of my diary.
It felt so raw, real and personal, a lot of the time, it didn’t feel like I was reading a book; that these people were only fictional - it felt like I was reading someone’s diary, watching it alongside them, seeing their lived experiences unfold before my very eyes, which is a total testament to Natalia Sylvester’s utterly beautiful and gripping writing and her own personal story with hip dysplasia.
Sylvester’s ability to capture the hardships and fear that comes with disability and chronic pain, while also framing a picture of the poignancy and beauty that can also come with it is nothing short of magical. It was as if someone walked into my head, took my thoughts and my feelings, then put them into a book.
Breathe and Count Back from Ten is a deeply profound love letter to the disabled community, and how beautifully written that letter is.
There wasn’t a single moment that I didn’t enjoy of this novel. I found myself holding my breath, laughing, smiling, crying. It was truly a joyous experience.
Suffice to say, I give it a 5/5 stars - and if I could give it more, I would. I have found a brand new addition to my favourite books list.
Thank you to Natalia and her publisher for allowing me the opportunity to read this book as an ARC in exchange for my honest review. Reading this book was a deeply moving, beautiful, endearing and personal experience that has helped me understand the feelings that I couldn’t quite comprehend in regards to my disabilities, and especially my hip problems. I feel very honoured to have been given the opportunity to read this book and have it touch me in the way that it has, so from the bottom of my heart: thank you.