Review: Losing Faith by Janiah Benitez
Rating: ★★★✭☆ (3.5/5)
This book had some of my favorite tropes: a recovering addict heroine and a single dad hero with OCD raising the sweetest five-year-old girl. Losing Faith follows Lisette and Jackson through a gut-wrenching, emotional rollercoaster that shows the impact of addiction—not just on the addict, but on everyone around them. And that’s what I think this story does best: it highlights the pain of the people who love the addict, the helplessness of watching someone fall over and over again, and the heartbreak of never knowing if they’ll make it out.
That said, I had some issues with the writing. While the themes were powerful, the execution lacked depth. Most of Lisette’s addiction journey was told through Jackson’s POV, so I never truly felt what she was feeling—I only saw what she did. It felt like every time things got emotionally intense for her, we skipped to Jackson, which made her perspective feel almost superficial. The same thing happened with Jackson’s OCD—it was present, but only in small glimpses. His compulsions were mentioned occasionally, but we didn’t get enough insight into his day-to-day experience.
For example, Lisette relapses at one point, and we don’t even get it from her POV. No build-up, no emotional spiral, just the aftermath through Jackson’s eyes. Even the scene where she goes to Paris isn’t shown—it’s just mentioned. And that was a pattern throughout the book: important moments were skipped or told through summary instead of being shown. One scene in particular really illustrates the issue:
“…never doubted you for a minute and I know you’re going to be fine.”
Sire stands before gesturing to the rest of the group and Hazel and Vidia share how much they care about her before it’s my turn.
“The minute Belle’s mom walked out on us I decided it’ll just be us.”
Instead of letting us hear what Hazel and Vidia said, or feel the tension in the room, the story skips straight to the next bit of dialogue. We don’t even know who’s standing, sitting, or in the room half the time—it’s all so rushed, with very little description or inner monologue.
Another example:
I sit back in my seat and Navi signals for the next step, explaining to her how she hurt us. Sire explained how she can’t argue with facts and how we feel, so rather than telling her her actions aren’t good, we’re going to tell her how we feel about them.
It barely lasts five minutes before she’s up and pacing and when I see her break into a sweat, I realize she really is high, but she’s clearly coming down from it.
Sire warned me that this would get ugly, but when it does, I don’t recognize her.
“Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!” She bangs on the kitchen counter before walking around it a few more times, screaming her mantra.
I wanted to know what was actually said. What did Navi say? What were Lisette’s reactions? What did everyone else contribute? It skips so much of the emotional weight, and it’s like that throughout the book.
In terms of character development, I was so interested in Lisette’s diagnosis of bipolar depressive disorder later in the book—but again, we barely get to sit with her in her mind. It’s a first-person book, but it felt like it was told in third person most of the time. We’re told what’s happening more than we’re shown how the characters feel about it.
There’s also a bit of a plot hole I noticed: Jackson’s OCD is described really well in one scene (he talks about eggs, and how Isabelle can’t touch them raw), but then later he lets her bake straight from the pool without washing her hands, cracking eggs on her own. That felt inconsistent. Still, I really liked the parts where his intrusive thoughts were explored—they were well-written and insightful, just not frequent enough.
Lisette’s self-harm is also mentioned, but only through Jackson’s POV. Once again, we miss her emotions leading up to it. There’s a scene after her “high high day” when she falls into a depressive episode, and while there’s a short 4-sentence chapter (which I loved), I wish there had been more from her perspective—more of her spiral, more of her vulnerability.
Also, this is book 3 in a series, and I haven’t read the first two. I could tell I was missing a lot of context, especially with side characters and past events. I definitely recommend reading the other books first—this story would’ve hit even harder if I had the full background.
So why 3.5 stars? Because the story itself is incredible, but the writing style brought it down for me. Writing really affects how much I feel a story, and this felt more like a fast-paced movie than an immersive novel. Still, I loved the characters, the ending left me SHOCKED, and I need book 4 like... yesterday.
If you love emotional stories, single parent dynamics, mental health rep, and characters fighting their demons—this book is worth your time. Just prepare to feel… and scream when you reach that last page.