For readers of Crying in H Mart and Minor Feelings as well as lovers of the film Minari comes a searing coming-of-age memoir about the daughter of ambitious Asian American immigrants and her search for self-worth.
A daughter of Korean immigrants, Hyeseung Song spends her earliest years in the cane fields of Texas where her loyalties are divided between a restless father in search of Big Money, and a beautiful yet domineering mother whose resentments about her own life compromises her relationship with her daughter. With her parents at constant odds, Song learns more words in Korean for hatred than for love. When the family’s fake Gucci business lands them in bankruptcy, Song moves to a new elementary school. On her first day, a girl asks the teacher: “Can she speak English?”
Neither rich nor white, Song does what is necessary to be visible: she internalizes the model minority myth as well as her beloved mother’s dreams to see her on a secure path. Song meets these expectations by attending the best Ivy League universities in the country. But when she wavers, in search of an artistic life on her own terms, her mother warns, “Happiness is what unexceptional people tell themselves when they don’t have the talent and drive to go after real success.” Years of self-erasure take a toll and Song experiences recurring episodes of depression and mania. A thought repeats: I want to die. I want to die. Song enters a psychiatric hospital where she meets patients with similar struggles. So begins her sweeping journey to heal herself by losing everything.
Unflinching and lyrical, Docile is one woman’s story of subverting the model minority myth, contending with mental illness, and finding her self-worth by looking within.
This was a memoir from a woman who is Asian American, her parents emigrating from Korea decades ago. She recounts her early life growing up in Texas, how she was perceived in school and social settings, financial challenges of her parents, and their dogged insistence of her path to excellence through education. She was pressured to attend ivy league colleges and aspire to great heights and goals. However, she suffered occasionally with depressive episodes and could not get out of bed- even to the point of attempted suicide.
My favorite parts of the book were where the author thrived living in New York City, her adopted home that seemed to feed and inspire her. I also enjoyed her revelation that in order to truly thrive she had to follow her own cues and be true to herself, and not necessarily follow the path directed by her parents. This was what I call a "quiet read"-a book that was pleasant enough to hold my interest and finish, but will probably forget about as the months go by.
Thank you to the publisher Simon and Schuster for providing an advance reader copy via NetGalley.
This is a beautiful and moving memoir by Hyeseung Song, about her journey and struggles navigating Asian culture and expectations, Asian American identity, young adulthood, and mental illness.
I really like the author’s no nonsense, unapologetic writing about the strained relationships she has with her parents, especially her mother, whose vision of a successful life clashes with Ms. Song’s passion and dreams.
Many thanks for the ARC I received in a Goodreads giveaway. Publication date: July 16, 2024.
This book was truly so incredible. It was so honest and vulnerable and I cried while reading. This book reminded me so much of The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath that I laughed when the author brought up Plath unexpectedly in the middle.
The book follows the life of author Hyeseung Song from childhood to adulthood (mid-30s) from Texas to New York. She talks about how her immigration from Korea and relationship with her parents (particularly her mother) shaped her views on love and also herself.
Growing up in Texas as a Korean American in the 80s her experience was incredibly racialized. On top of the pressure from her mother to succeed in school (in order to ensure a successful life) and Korean expectations of gender, Hyeseung’s conception of herself is formed in this crucible. She exists only to fill the mold others force her into (smart asian classmate, perfect daughter, etc) and cannot have agency over her own life because her mother will not allow it (or from an American perspective: she does not allow herself).
I think this book gives a great insight into the mindset of 1st/2nd gen Asian Americans growing up in the US. It’s more than tiger moms and racial microagressions. Your entire sense of self and the structure of your family must make sense of the dueling cultural standards that your family comes from and the country that your family now lives in.
I (3rd gen mixed asian/latino) have definitely fallen into the trap of thinking middle+ class 2nd gen Asian Americans / people who immigrated as kids have it pretty good. They have great grades, get into good schools, do lots of extra curriculars, talk to their parents etc. It’s easy for me to forget that despite this there can still be a lot of emotional turmoil (especially related to immigration and tenuous family ties back in the “home country”). I think Hyeseung’s memoir perfectly articulates how her upbringing clearly led to and exacerbated her emotional problems in her teens and adulthood. It’s narrativized in a way that makes it seem like her attempts and psychiatric hospital stays were inevitable (to an extent) or that from my perspective it at least wasn’t suprising. Reading this book feels like watching a pressure cooker and waiting for it to explode.
I think the books “Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982”, “Real Americans”, “Crying in Hmart”, and the “Bell Jar” would be great books to read before or after this.
I’m wishing Hyeseung the best and thank you for sharing your beautifully written story!!
Thank you #partners @simonbooks @librofm & @simon.audio for my #gifted copies 🩷 #simonbooksbuddy
Docile: Memoirs of a Not-So-Perfect Asian Girl Hyeseung Song 7/16
Docile [ dos-uhl ] • adjective • quiet and easy to influence, persuade, or control.
Hyeseung Song is a first-generation Korean American, and Docile is her unflinching coming-of-age memoir about growing up under the thumb of the model minority myth. With unfathomable expectations placed upon her by her family, her community, the US at large, and even herself, Song experiences episodes of deep depression and mania. It isn't until she learns to embrace who she is outside of those constraints that she can truly live the life she was meant to live.
Deeply vulnerable and beautifully written, Docile is an engaging memoir that I absolutely devoured! Song's story touches on several key themes, including racism, classism, mental health, the measure of success, and so much more. She delicately blends moments of brutal heartbreak with dashes of lighthearted humor and hope. 🩷
🎧 The audiobook is wonderfully narrated by the author herself, which further adds to the reading experience, and makes it all the more compelling.
First of all, thank you so much to NetGalley, Simon & Schuster, and Hyeseung Song for this advanced copy in exchange for my honest review.
I loved this so much, it is hard to put into words, but I will attempt to do so....
Docile is the beautifully written and compelling memoir of Hyeseung Song, a first generation Korean American artist. Although her story is completely unique, it is also achingly familiar. At many times while reading this, I was transported back to that strange time of adolescence and early adulthood - navigating difficult parental relationships, trying to fit in, and searching for worth.
As she walks us through her life, Song explores many aspects of the human experience, including mental illness, racism, sexism, elitism, love, etc., but with a unique perspective that I haven't seen before. She rebels against stereotypes by illuminating the depth and subtlety to all the characters in her story.
Song describes the highs and lows of her life in a variety of ways. Sometimes it is intellectual, where she gives us the facts and the leeway to evaluate them however we see fit. At other times it is deeply emotional, raw, and vulnerable, and it is like we are living the memory with her. At other times, it is almost poetry. In every case there is a sense that an intentional choice was made, and it all comes together perfectly.
It is a wild ride - I was laughing out loud and choking up with tears and loving every minute - but it ends on a profoundly hopeful note. I hope that Hyeseung Song writes and publishes more books in the future!
Hyeseung Song’s Docile: Memoirs of a Not-So-Perfect Asian Girl makes me want to have a memoir moment…
I really enjoyed Hyeseung honest and vulnerable story… it was heartbreaking yet hopeful… many can find themselves within the pages… with the focus on identity and expectation, told with beautiful prose. I have to recommend the audio, narrated by the author it felt like listening to art being created.
A heart-wrenching and vulnerable memoir, "Docile" is Hyeseung Song's look back on her complex and longstanding struggle with her own identity and upbringing. The oldest child of Korean immigrants, Hyeseung's grew up in the deep south of Texas where, from the very beginning, she knew she was not like other children. Her appearance and her family's financial difficulties made for a difficult childhood, her father's constant pursuit of the "American dream" and becoming an entrepreneur leading to many fights with her mother, eventually forcing the family to declare bankruptcy and lose their home. Some of her earliest memories are of her inserting herself between her parents when they fought, trying to keep the fragile peace within the family.
As Hyeseung grows older, however, she becomes inundated with the messaging that many Asian parents dump on their children - the singular goal of academic excellence, which she absorbs as her own benchmark for life. Even when she gets accepted to some of the best schools in the nation, it's still not enough for her mother, who only wanted Harvard. Hyeseung graduates from Princeton, floundering on a path forward and questioning her future path in life; she is accepted to Harvard Law but her struggles with her own mental health completely derail her life - to the point where she must completely reassess what she's always been told she should do.
As a first generation Chinese-American immigrant myself, this novel hit so close to home and was relatable on far too many levels; I think readers who don't grow up with this background may not understand the weight of Hyeseung's upbringing and how devastating the (dis)approval of one's parents can be, even far into adulthood. It's painful, reading how exhaustingly she worked to follow path that was set for her, and what she sacrificed of herself in order to achieve it. She builds and fleshes out her parents into complex, multi-layered individuals - flawed, emotional, and imperfect, but also deeply loving individuals who also wanted the best for their children and thought they knew how to raise their daughter in a brand new country.
I admire Song for being able to pivot her life even as an adult, letting go of the years and time she'd put into pursuing a career that she never wanted, and finding her voice as an artist and writer. The last few chapters of the novel, as she comes to terms with her decisions and actions did feel a little rushed, especially with the passing of her mother, and I personally wish she had spent a little more time and focus on the more recent years.
Very much a recommended read when "Docile" is published in July 2024, especially for those with a similar upbringing.
Thank you Simon & Schuster for the advance copy of this novel!
So well written the author draws us in sharing with us her parents difficulties her life as the child of immigrant immigrants.As in H Mart this is an emotional moving memoir that follows the author’s determination and strength and determination to succeed.#netgalley #simon&schuster
I typically read celebrity memoirs and this book made me wonder if I am doing myself a disservice, not reading books written by writers. Hyeseung Song is a writer.
DOCILE is beautifully written. Not your typical memoir, Song uses an entertaining vocabulary: shivved, whetstone, rued, aphorism, supplicating, pernance, abstruse, intuited, eked, antithetical, dais, fey. She writes that she's tried to make art of her experience -- and she has succeeded!
She writes of her family dynamics, of a mother who teaches her that "love was entirely conditional, and you could vanish--even to your own mother--at any moment" (page 72) and "happiness is what you want when you can't get anything real (page 92).
Halfway through the book, Song takes a break from college, suffering from depression. Her mother, unwilling to let this happen, finds her a job in Korea. And then Song's there, writing reports on economic factors leading to the current financial crisis. After she returns to to school, finds herself spending time in a mental institution; she gets married, gets divorced, finds art, and also finds a diagnosis for her condition.
All of this is to say: she searches for a purpose in her life. For her life. For happiness. To be visible. To matter. To enjoy life.
In the end, she writes: "I defected labels and saw myself as made up of many aspects, like a shiny mosaic, visible to some people at one angle and to others at another, when no one but me could calculate my worth" (page 287).
i think this was a lovely memoir for what it was. She is a good writer and she has lived a relatable life! I think some more could be discussed here however, and the structure of the book would have benefited from more nuance and perspective being pulled out of the author’s experiences, instead of simply telling us what happened.
There is a fine and complicated line between devotion and sacrifice. This candid and beautifully written memoir captures the varied thoughts and emotions of striving to be a devoted daughter or partner while learning not to sacrifice one's self, dreams, and ambitions. It prompts us, Korean-American or not, to consider how much to give of ourselves to those we love. I couldn’t put it down and finished in a day.
Hyeseung Song (b. late 1970s/early 80s) is a first generation Korean-American writer. She was raised in the Houston suburbs, attended Princeton University as an undergrad, and completed some coursework at Harvard Law School before pivoting and finding her passion in art. Her memoir Docile narrates her coming-of-age, with a large focus on her childhood, teenage, and college years, and how her sense of self was closely tied to her Korean immigrant parents and their high expectations of her, and the negative stereotypes she felt growing up in predominantly non-Asian communities. The most interesting part of the memoir for me was Song's trip back to South Korea in her late teens/early 20s, when she took a year off from undergrad to try to find herself, but what she found was something different. Mental illness also plays a large role in the memoir, with Song battling depression throughout her adolescence and early adulthood.
As a memoir written by a woman in her 40s, I found it odd that so much of it focused on Song's childhood and high school years. These years are certainly formative for everyone, but usually less detailed in memoirs than one's 20s and beyond when one has full(er) agency of their own life.
I do tire of this fairly persistent theme of grasping desperately for resolution that is rampant in the memoirs of inherently privileged people, and the end result is they usually spend half their word count convincing readers of their suffering. These usually finally translate into a closing page or chapter of: "in the end, it was all about finding ____ all along" and fill in your choice cliche of socially acceptable success -- self-love, partner love, or other such "unorthodox" achievement that really is quite orthodox, the discovery of which is still ultimately a literary exercise in self-congratulations.
^^This is probably an unfair generalization resulting from reading more memoirs this past year to better understand how I'd approach one someday. DOCILE itself will probably be relatable and inspiring to many readers, and maybe my preference for utilitarian self-acceptance over saccharine self-love is the limiting factor in my ability to admit that I, too, still found this artist's story of mental illness and self-acceptance relatable and inspiring.
Should the number of stars I give to a memoir be dependent on how (un)likely I would be friends with the author? That seems unfair, but I can't pretend that being annoyed / knowing too much of someone's inner world is not a factor in this review. The writing is descriptive, the self-reflection eloquent. Yet somehow, probably due to my own experiences that had me rolling my eyes at the lack of unique hardship in this story (by my standards), I cannot bring myself to say I "enjoyed" reading this as much as I felt obligated to finish it out of some vague sense of AAPI solidarity with the ubiquitous theme of "my parents were mean to me".
When I got an ARC of this book, a letter from the editor says that this is a different kind of immigrant story because it discusses issues with mental health. I was shocked to read this since I have read a whole bunch of books about the Asian immigrant diaspora that talk about mental health in a very big way. Off the top of my head I can name Minor Feelings, House of Sticks, Feeding Ghosts (one of the very best books I have read in awhile), and Stay True. I could probably think of others.
I wouldn't have minded that bizarre statement if the book had been any good or stood out in any way. But to me it was unbearably boring. I skimmed over parts that talked in endless circles about Hyeseung Song's childhood, and how her parents had a bad marriage, and people made fun of her, and her life was so hard, blah blah blah. Her mother shops at too many stores to save money. Her father is irresponsible. Her classmates think she doesn't speak English. Etc, etc. The story picks up a little when Song leaves for college at Princeton, but even then I still found myself slipping over pages and pages of complaints about how hard it is to get out of bed. This seemed to be consistent with the rest of the book where Song goes through periods of mania (and the book seems to pick up steam) and then sinks into deep, debilitating depression (and the books gets super dull). It was an ok read, but it read like a tarnished version of better memoirs like Feeding Ghosts.
Though Hyeseung's story and upbringing will be so different from most of ours, it will feel like it is very much your own. Song does a great job of bringing you into her story and making you feel very much a part of it.
This book was marketed to me, by being compared to Crying in H Mart and Minari. Minari was my favorite movie of 2020 and Crying was one of the best things I read last year. I think comparing this book to those two things is actually doing it a disservice.
Song’s experiences, though on paper, might seem very close to those two medias, is very much its own entity.
Song writes her experiences with such love and care and you can see it throughout the whole story. The main thing that took off “points” for me was that at the end of this I was left feeling like the story wasn’t complete. I was left wanting something a bit more. I haven't quite decided if that's a good or bad thing yet.
Even with that being said, I would still recommend this to anyone who is interested in stories like these.
Thank you to Simon Book for the gifted copy of Docile.
Rating and reviewing memoirs is HARD. It feels like judging the life experience of someone who courageously puts it ALL out there. That said, reviews are to help other readers decide if they want to read the book, not a judgment about the life of the author or their story, so here’s what I’d say to potential readers:
Did this one show me what the author went through and help me understand more about the experience of Asian Americans and the model minority myth? Yes. However, it wasn’t the most impactful memoir about this I’ve read — some parts drag on and others, parts that might have strong emotional resonance if given more thought, are glossed over. Docile is a one good to add to your TBR if you want to go deep on this subject, but if you’re trying to get into memoirs, I’d recommend Crying in Heart, We Were Dreamers, or Minor Feelings first.
How do we know who we are when we are born into expectation? As a parent, who can’t help but have expectations and ideas of who my children are and will be, it is something that I think about often.
Hyesueng Song’s memoir, Docile, examines this question through her own story of growing up as the eldest daughter of Korean immigrant parents who settled in Texas. Docile traces Song’s childhood where she becomes an incredible student, as she is expected to be, and does her best to assimilate into the mostly white society in which she lives. She tries to stifle the depression and anguish that she feels — by being forced to conform into the mold of perfect Asian girl — and grapples with untreated and ignored depression.
Eventually, Song studies art and lives as a painter. But to get to the end, to become the painter she is today, she had to face her family’s expectations, engage with her inner-voice, identify and treat her mental health and allow herself to be herself.
This memoir is raw and corrageous. I will be giving it out as graduation gifts because it is a reminder that in the end, you have to rely on yourself to create and execute your own happiness.
I found this memoir really interesting to follow and really moving. I think part of the joy was knowing nothing about the author, Hyeseung Song, so not knowing what she would end up doing, as her parents urge her to go to Harvard and pursue a law degree. She goes through what growing up Korean in Texas meant for her, and her family - her father who dreams of success and wealth, and comes up with a new business idea every few weeks; her mum who pushes her academically and seems to live vicariously through Hyeseung. She gets into Princeton, then Harvard, but her mental health is poor and she describes long periods of being unable to get out of bed, supported by her husband, not sharing much with her parents, not knowing what to do with her studies and her life. I found it well-written and really engaging, although at times I find her ellipses made it confusing: she will tell a story, and only at the end reveal something else had happened before - she did that several times and although I found it easy to follow, I wondered why this was used so often and what it brought to her narrative. I won't share what she ends up doing and the path she chooses because I think that was a nice thing to discover along with the author.
Unflinchingly honest and captivating from start to finish. I normally don’t give memoirs star ratings because my opinions don’t matter in regard to someone else’s story but this was phenomenal. You can feel Song’s pain, personality and emotional intelligence grow from page to page in unison. As heartbreaking as much of this story was, it also offers hope.
ngl this felt like a more honest version of crying at h mart. song is a beautiful writer. maybe it’s because my own life parallels so much of hers, but i haven’t read a book where i felt more seen.
4.5 - this was such a well written, moving, authentic, inspirational memoir!! i love reading memoirs about people who come from such different backgrounds/cultures/families than mine, and i felt like i really was able to visualize and follow along throughout the author’s journey. the mental health discussions and representation was so well done too. full rtc!
** I was given an ARC of this book by Simon & Schuster
My copy of Docile is covered in post-it notes because there are some wonderful quotes that really stood out to me throughout this memoir. An example being “the idea of dying became a meditation” I connected with some of the more melancholy pictures that were painted, but overall, I was left disappointed upon completing this book.
At first the author started with clear descriptions of events and their accompanying emotions, but as the story progressed, I couldn’t help but feel bored with the lengthy descriptive paragraphs that felt tossed in for no good reason. This was a story that had interesting points, but lacked the ability to dig deeper and really provide a narrative.
Shoutout to the super short chapters. They make reading more enjoyable.
Searingly honest and beautifully written, one wonders how the author could have ever been anything else than what she is today. But... parents and culture intervene, as does unrecognized illness. The book is both a tribute and a warning on all that surrounds and impacts us. Yet one wonders if her journey wasn't perhaps necessary to get to where she is today and/or whether she isn't just that kind of amazing persona who would accomplish anything and thrive in any field.
All good questions and a book that raises questions in your mind as you read is a winner. The writing is also just so damn good. She can describe anything and her words keep you 100% engaged. This is the kind of book that should be read in college classrooms and discussed widely. Not just for Korean-Americans, not just for Asian-Americans!
Thank you to NetGalley for an advance copy of this book. I want to watch it soar to the top of the New York Times best seller list!
thought this would be a typical diaspora model minority memoir, but it evolved into something much richer, with a lyrical quality about its writing — docile explores themes of aspiration, obligation, and love through the lens of immigrant expectation in the first half, and romantic partnership in the second half. some parts left me wanting more, other parts will stay on my mind for a long time for their eloquence. i hope hyeseung is happy wherever she is now & im glad she wrote this book
For better or for worse it reads like an extended college entrance essay. I wish I’d read this in high school—I think I would’ve found it to be a nice read I’m sure. It’s kind of giving the Asian version of like RBG laptop sticker feminism.
Memoirs from obviously privileged people that lean a bit too hard into the “my life is hard, feel bad for me” thing rub me the wrong way. That said, it’s well written and entertaining enough to finish.
I love this book because it makes me feel. It’s not a one-tone kind of feel, like a Wes Anderson movie, where things “match”. (Though that’s cool, and has its place.) In Docile, Song is somehow able to shift her writing and tone to allow us varying experiences. At times, she is poetic and lyrical (I’m not the first to say this- but wow do I agree!) giving the reader direct access to the pain and vulnerability felt by her young self. At other times, Song is punchy and hilarious. We’re drawn to her magnetic charisma and wit. And then there is the cerebral, facts-first approach, that allows the reader to draw our own conclusions.
But what I love the most most about this book is the heart. Song captures the complex, bottomless nature of what it means to be human. From her traumas, to her desires and loves, she allows us to see into her. And to truly see someone is to love them, no? - And now I am invested and want more!
So for me, this is exactly what I look for in a book: A story that makes me feel the beauty of being alive. It feels expansive and hugely important. Because it IS hugely important. I had to look up who said this “What is most personal is most universal" (it’s Carl Rogers) -because this book nails it. When you love a story and a main character because you feeeel them: but then an unexpected result is that your mind busts open and you feel a shift from your intellect, into your bones. Eg. as a white woman, I may have thought I knew what the Model Minority Myth was, but now I know that I can’t begin to understand how this one (of many!) facets of racism shapes us. I vote that Anti-racism and DEI coursework is taught through memoir. Song’s book = required reading.
What initially drew me to this memoir was the "Not-So-Perfect Asian Girl" in the title because that's me🙋♀️ I am literally the furthest from any stereotypes of being "Asian." The author is also Korean American like I am. There were definitely parts of this memoir that I found very relatable. The overly strict parents with their whole focus on education and getting into an Ivy League. I didn't go to an Ivy, I went to NYU. But the author did, she went to Princeton and attended Harvard Law. She writes about her time at those schools. She also writes about her struggles of not knowing where she fits in, not really Korean but not really American. I totally related to this. It was something I dealt with in high school, but I realized after I graduated that I didn't need to "fit in," and I could be happy just being me.
She writes about her childhood in Texas and her struggles with depression. She was extremely open and honest about it. There were times she just wanted to die and took too many pills, landing her in psychiatric hospitals. I have a lot of admiration for her vulnerability. She put it all out there in this memoir. She finally realizes she doesn't want to be a lawyer. That was her mom's dream, not hers. Her love is art, and she pursues her dream of being an artist. She's now an amazing artist and writer. This was definitely a well-written, raw, emotional memoir, and I would definitely recommend it. I would also recommend checking out her artwork.
Song's memoir gripped me from beginning to end and the best way I can describe Docile is as both a window and a mirror.
A window because Song reflects upon her childhood as a Korean raised in America, to living as an American in Korea in her late teens. An Asian American experience encapsulated by the difficulty in belonging anywhere because of who you are. Song is shaped irrevocably by her mother's love and projection, by her father's absence and determination, and by being the first born, eldest daughter - a state of existence which seems to confound cultural boundaries and settle upon the shoulders of young girls and women everywhere.
This is where Docile becomes a mirror, for me at least, because Song tracks how the above pushed her into a life of perfection - striving for it, thriving upon it, while simultaneously never resting, always over-achieving, never settling for the things that would easily bring her peace. It was the depiction of this heart-aching pressure cooker that left me in tears at the end of this memoir; because Song also writes with the beauty of maturity and hindsight, making Docile an incredibly emotional read at times due to the levels of reflection within Song's recollection.
Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for my arc in exchange for my unbiased opinion.
TW: suicidal ideation and suicide
Docile by Hyeseung Song is a coming of age memoir that charts Song's childhood and young adulthood as she struggles to obtain and maintain her Korean immigrant parents' ideal of the American dream. Through incredibly vulnerable and poignant descriptions of her struggles with attempting to fit into the "model minority" myth, struggling to fulfill her parents' wishes, and trying to find out who she is outside of her mother's and society's expectations, Song really paints a picture of how destructive and harmful these are on her.
I think this memoir can be incredibly relatable. As an Asian American who grew up in a pretty white-majority community and feeling, like Song, that I had to fulfill the model minority role in order to be seen beyond my otherness, I felt really SEEN by Song's recollections. Especially when she talks about how she wasn't a pretty asian growing up and so, she tried to be the smartest asian. But she wasn't. And so, it led to a cycle of self-hate and self-deprecation. I really REALLY identified with it. I could go on and on about how much I identified with this memoir but I think this is a book that needs to be read and discussed as often as Crying in H-Mart. I think what's explored in that, is really expanded on in this book. Song does a great job of writing very comfortably and intimately so it almost feels like I'm reading emails from a close friend. That said, please pay attention to the trigger warnings I listed, because unfortunately, there are moments in this memoir that involved those triggers and I identified with them too. It's a lot but I appreciate Song's vulnerabilities in those moments because it never comes across as flippant. It's very much a situation of "here's what happened and how I felt." It's just very honest.
Overall, I highly recommend this memoir. I thought it was just so compelling and beautifully written.