'A treatise on empathy and grace in extraordinary circumstances' Jojo Moyes
'Today I sat on a bench facing the sea, the one where I waited for L to be born, and sobbed my heart out. I don't know if I'll ever recover.'
This note was written on 9 November 2017. As the seagulls squawked overhead and the sun dipped into the sea, Alexandra Heminsley's world was turning inside out.
She'd just been told her then-husband was going to transition. The revelation threatened to shatter their brand new, still fragile, family.
But this vertiginous moment represented only the latest in a series of events that had left Alex feeling more and more dissociated from her own body, turning her into a seemingly unreliable narrator of her own reality.
Some Body to Love is Alex's profoundly open-hearted memoir about losing her husband but gaining a best friend, and together bringing up a baby in a changing world. Its exploration of what it means to have a human body, to feel connected or severed from it, and how we might learn to accept our own, makes it a vital and inspiring contribution to some of the most complex and heated conversations of our times.
'Insightful and wise, generous and kind' David Nicholls
The best memoirs make you feel like you really know the writer—inside and out. That’s certainly true of Heminsley who takes her own body as her subject: we wince at every needle as she reveals what IVF is really like and rejoice with her as she gets the family she’s given so much for. When her partner begins to question their gender and starts to transition, this fledging family is put to the test. It’ll have you in bits—in a good way.
She has done two memoirs before and written about herbody in each—as she learned to run in Running Like a Girl and as she learned to swim in Leap In. This is her bravest book yet.
You can watch my interview with her on Big Scottish Book Club on BBC iPlayer.
(3.5) From Heminsley’s previous book, Leap In, I knew about her getting married and undergoing IVF. It was also a book about outdoor swimming; I appreciated her words on acquiring a new skill as an adult and overcoming body issues. This memoir continues the story: in 2017, after a gruelling journey through infertility treatment, Heminsley finally got the baby she wanted. But not before a couple more heart-wrenching moments: the lab made an error and notified her that she shared no DNA with this last embryo, and while heavily pregnant she was assaulted by a drunk man on a train. Both incidents left her feeling a loss of agency. “Why was I consistently being deemed the least reliable witness of my own reality?” she asks.
As they adjusted to new life with a baby, Heminsley started to notice that she wasn’t connecting with her husband, D, like she used to. She felt emotionally unsupported and, in fact, jealous of D’s relationship with their son, L. And while they’d never been the most conventional couple, D’s changes of appearance and wardrobe seemed like a sign of something bigger. Indeed, when L was six months old, D told Heminsley, “this body doesn’t represent who I am” and announced a decision to begin transitioning.
As D moved towards having a body that fit their identity, Heminsley, too, needed to get back in touch with her body. After books like Running Like a Girl, she was considered an exercise guru, but she didn’t see herself in the new obsession with Instagram-ready images of fitness perfection. This is not, then, primarily a memoir of queer family-making, because D’s transitioning was not Heminsley’s story to tell and mostly occurs in the background. Instead she focuses on what she does know and can control: her relationship to her own body.
However, this entails what can feel like irrelevant flashbacks to her teenage years of undergoing rehab at a military clinic in Germany for hypermobility, trips to Trinidad and Italy, and the genesis of her two sporting memoirs. Much as I applaud the sensitivity to trans and body issues, the book ends up feeling scattered. Still, the writing is so candid and the narrative so eventful that you’ll race through this even if you don’t normally pick up nonfiction. (For a bit more information, see my short write-up of the virtual book launch.)
It is rare for a book to beat me. I read all sorts, all styles and subjects. The writing was competent and some of the descriptive language really good; the topics interesting, but I grew increasingly frustrated by the repetition. Say it once and say it well. Please do not labour the point.
I feel bad for saying this, because the writer seems like a good person, but I got a bit bored. She’s so up in her head analysing everything in such tiny detail, sometimes I just wanted to tell her to crack on and just get on with it. I found Leap In similar. Every tiny action was full of existential crisis. Every single moment a metaphor for womanhood.
What a talent to be able to write like this! I felt every emotion: broken, joy, fear, love. I have loved every thing she’s written but this has filled me with awe. 10/10
Great account of how we live through our bodies - through good times and bad - and an authoritative case for trans rights
This is a great account of a woman living with / through / with difficulties thrown up by her body, from becoming aware of how to deploy her feminine charms as a teenager to physical difficulties and their resolution through exercise (with mental as well as physical benefits) and the medical intervention of a very taxing IVF process. In the end, it makes you realise just how much we perhaps take our bodies - as that that we’re born into - as “given” and outside our control, when in fact the “range” of what our bodies can enable us to do (or not) is huge and potentially very variable in the course of one’s life, including as a result of our input. The situation of trans people represents an extreme case in this envelope and the transition of the author’s partner D after the birth of their son means she confronted with the direct consequences of society’s attitudes to trans people as well as the role of socialisation:
“Most of all, nor was I prepared to express an anti-trans sentiment that I simply didn’t feel – no matter how others might have expected me to respond. It was becoming more than clear to me that anti-trans sentiment was a huge part of how D and I had got here. […] Whichever way I looked at our predicament one thing was always as clear as day: if D had grown up in a world where she had been able to admit to the feelings she had without fear of losing love, status or even her life, then the confusion that had come my way would simply never have had cause to exist. D was responsible for that confusion, but I never, ever felt that she alone was to blame for it.”
“So now, when I hear women complain about the performative femininity that trans women sometimes display I wonder, What were you like at fifteen, eighteen, twenty-one? […] A woman born with intrinsic talents for perfect eyebrows and five-minute blow-drys? […] The memories of me fighting not to feel like less of a woman because I hadn’t found an effortless path to pregnancy were too fresh for me to start judging the required biology for entry into womanhood that D was experiencing. I had taken oestrogen, I had undergone surgeries, I had manipulated nature in order to live the life that I felt would be my very best. How could I now expect a different standard from others?“
EVERYONE, irrespective of their sex/gender should read Some Body to Love, particularly before pitching into the “debate on trans rights”.
I think ideally I’d give this 2.5… I did consider not finishing it.
I found it interesting from a mum point of view, as I could make comparisons between her journey and mine.
However there was a lot less information than I'd expected about D transitioning and how that affected family life, D's life etc.
I found it very wordy, and very much about her emotions, rather than what was happening.
I can understand her frustration at the reasoning in her court case, and I can imagine how upset she would be, having gone through all everything she did to have a baby, to then have her family unit break apart soon after. However, it just felt like a very negative book, with even chapters on a childhood illness and the negativity of Instagram, slightly randomly thrown in. I kind of felt like she was mentioning anything difficult that she could, in her experience, such as juggling childcare and work, however this is something experienced by many people. I was expecting more about her unique experience of having a former partner and co-parent transition.
Someone described it to me as self-indulgent, which I would agree with.
I do have one or two of her other books in my to read pile, so I'll be interested to see what I think of those.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
As a memoir and a family story this is a story of navigating a journey through IVF and pregnancy, the arrival of a much longed for son, and the the subsequent decision of her husband to transition. It is very much Alex's story and perspective and in some parts can seem very one sided but I have heard her discuss this and her clear decision that D's story is not hers to tell.
It is more than a family story, it is very much a story of a woman's relationship with her own body. So many women will recognise that loss of connection with their own body and self whether that is through pregnancy, illness, menopause etc. The idea that in the 21st century as a pregnant woman you would be considered a less reliable witness by the judge in a sexual assault case than the man who had drunk over 10 pints is also particularly depressing.
This is such an important book - every woman, and man should read it. Especially the male magistrate who deemed a man drunk on 10 pints, 10 g&ts and a bottle of wine has a better grasp on reality and memory than an 8 month pregnant woman. He should definitely read it. But I digress.
Full of warmth and love, we follow Alex and her family through the ups and downs of IVF, a sexual assault and what it means to be thrust unexpectedly into a LBGTQ+ family. The love and compassion Alex has is quite overwhelming and she stands for all women in this book. Read it.
Equal parts heart-wrenching and heartwarming and just so full of compassion. As vulnerable, necessary, and inspiring as a long catch up with treasured friend.
So I thought this book was going to be about how the author and her husband adjusted to their marriage crumbling but their friendship growing as they raised their son. There was a lot more back story to the authors life than about the challenges of dealing with your husband transitioning. It was an interesting book about how she dealt with her own body image: just not what I was expecting to read.
Read with tissues, an open heart and revel in Alex’s words
I’m so proud of this family. Having followed Alexandra’s journalist career for years, in magazines and on the radio, her reviews expanded my book list beyond my comfort zone and truly enhanced my life. The marriage photo of her and D shared on Instagram is sheer joy. The pain in this book; that they both have lived, loved, worked and laughed through is visceral. It’s probably the clearest account of the bewilderment you feel when your foundations fall down I’ve ever read. However, that they’ve been able to find their way back to joy is a testament of their love and that L is helping them navigate language is nothing short of glorious. I’ve wept, grinned and startled my husband as I whooped for joy reading Some Body To Love. Not just about the shifting sands in a relationship, but also a critique on how female and women’s bodies are mishandled, misread, mistreated, often abused. I going to order books for my friends, shout this from the rooftops.
I HATED this book. I went into it thinking it was a story about the author’s relationship with her transgender husband, but I’m really not sure what I ended up reading.
I found myself wondering if it switched to some sort of memoir, but it was too incomplete for that. As my frustration built, reading chapter after boring chapter about her hyper mobility, schooling and every single opportunity to revisit (and plug) her previous book on RUNNING, I decided these ramblings are just not for me.
Perhaps I misunderstood the synopsis ('A Family Story') entirely, but I was hoping for some insights into the situation she found herself in after her husband came out as trans, and what I got was thorough over-analysis of personal issues I really couldn’t care less about.
It’s a real shame I invested so much time into this book, hoping it would eventually circle back to what I thought it was supposed to be about, but this woman is insufferable and I’m no longer interested in anything she has to say.
"D [...] had the power to make my life seem as if it was being lived entirely in Portrait Mode. I was just a little sharper, a little better, a little more me. And everything else was a little blurry, a little less imposing that it used to be."
"Why was I consistently being deemed the last reliable witness of my own reality?"
Många fina passager, och jag förstår att det måste ha varit en galet omtumlande tid med ivf, potentiellt obehagliga nyheter efter ett blodprov, ett sexuellt övergrepp och slutligen livspartnern D som vill byta kön. När det sedan ska blandas in övervikt och hälsoproblem (som ja, förvisso bidrar till kroppstematiken, det förstår jag ju), kan jag inte låta bli att tycka att det tyvärr blir lite för hoppigt. Även om Ds historia inte är Alexandras att berätta, blir det ett ganska stort hopp från att Alexandra undrar över en BB-kräm som faller ut ur en jackficka till att D sedan så gott som försvinner ut ur berättelsen.
Alexandra has incredible openness and warmth throughout her book. Having seen her speaking with Damian Barr on social media, his intense warmth towards her and the book, as well as Alexandra being reflective, with fabulous humour and positivity led me to reading this. I wondered if it would match expectations. And some. I don't read many memoirs but this was told so well I couldn't stop once I had started. She and her family have had some unique and tough experiences which are set out so honestly from her perspective that they are relatable. And some experiences are absolutely common to many of us. Having experienced a similar train incident (sadly without support from fellow travellers) I was cheering her on as she took this forward. With more cameras appearing on public transport, one can only hope for more justice and safer travel in future (I won't comment on the outcome, no spoilers). Bravo- for all of this book.
Having read Heminsley’s life-changing Running Like A Girl, I was keen to experience her latest book, opting for the audio version to keep me company while running and at the gym. Goodness, it’s powerful. It’s part memoir, told through three life-changing experiences for Alexandra – the emotional rollercoaster of IVF and a phone call telling her that her baby shares no DNA with her; a sexual assault on a busy train while heavily pregnant; and her then-husband, D telling her he is going to transition. It’s also a relatable exploration of learning to reconnect with her body and finding her self again post-pregnancy, post-assault, and post-marriage.
It’s raw and insightful. Alexandra is heartbreakingly vulnerable but also admirably strong. She’s incredibly honest about the different emotions she went through as she realises her marriage is over and she navigates her new family set-up.
This is an important "memoir" told in an incredibly thoughtful way, obviously written at the acceptance stage of her grief cycle. Her husband, months after their longed for, IVF baby is born tells her that he is going to transition. Despite their close marriage, shared values and friendship this spells the end of the marriage.
Heminsley writes with caution as it is not her story to tell. Whilst this is true, she has, bravely, chosen to write about it. She doesn't tiptoe around the issue and is very clear about her understanding of both this and larger LGBT+ prejudices and spends much of the book using her perspective to tell her own body image journey. Having read her two previous books on running and swimming, I felt that, for me, this felt repetitive despite giving context and a background riff on the different ways of being a woman.
heart wrenching and beautiful, the emotions pour out of the page and into your soul. The author's journey into motherhood was already an emotionally fraught one, but was then coupled with the decision made by the child's other parent to transition, The self-questioning and doubts about selfworth as a new parent and partner are so well described. Some Body to Love completely captures the sense of losing your self identity and the journey taken to find the true you again as well as the power of love and understanding. I read it over a few days but was very aware that the actuality of the events being described were far longer and even more far reaching. A wonderfully told story, I wish them all well.
I am a big fan of Heminsley's non fiction writing and this was the only one of hers I had not read.
It is a startlingly honest read detailing some of the hugely challenging events that have occurred throughout Alexandra's life, an undiagnosed disability during her teen years, a rocky IVF journey and reporting a sexual abuse attack while 8 months pregnant, all of which are set against the transition of her partner less than a year after the birth of their child.
Heminsley is startlingly open about her conflicted feelings towards her partner and the self reflection that this brings.
This is a book about honesty, openness, inclusivity and finding peace with oneself and the life choices you make.
A gruelling struggle with IVF. Joy in conceiving. A stomach-dropping, mistaken reveal that your embryo doesn’t share your DNA. A sexual assault whilst pregnant that goes to trial and the axis-tilting experience of your husband transitioning just as you give birth to new life resulting in you raising your child in your new LGBTQ+ family.
Some Body to Love comprises of a series of past and present events which lead to Alex’s unsettling lack of agency over her life, body and womanhood. A sincere memoir through our narrators eyes that doesn’t shy away from double standards, difficulties nor unforeseen, life-shattering events.
Unlike its predecessors 'Running Like a Girl' and 'Leap In', which are linear memoirs working towards an end goal, 'Some Body to Love' is an evolving story, and as such is more raw, perhaps more fractured and more challenging than the previous books, but so very, very important.
This isn't an easy read as it's so open emotionally through such a huge shock and so many challenging events that it is somewhat exhausting to take in, but it's also so honest and ultimately uplifting that it's worth every minute.
If the previous books ended with an ending - an event completed, a race won; this one ends with a beginning - the first steps on the journey for a new family, and it's inspiring to see the bravery, determination and kindness that Alex puts into this unexpected new start.
Alexandra's honesty in her writing is palpable throughout this book. Her openness of her IVF experience, the unexpected journey she has gone on with her family with L and D and the relationship she has had with her feelings about her body and wellbeing is beautiful to read. It is refreshingly so, in the sense that you don't feel she is holding anything back, wanting to be as transparent as possible but is still incredibly respectful to her loved ones feelings and experiences. This beautiful book is one I know I will end up discussing with others for a long time yet.
I’ve long loved Hemmo since Running like a girl, and was delighted to delve into this book. She has such a beautiful yet inclusive way of writing and it was a delight to listen to it on Audible so it felt like she was telling me the stories over coffee and cake! It’s a heartbreaking and heartwarming book, I gobbled it up so fast I’m sad it’s over. She very carefully tells her story in a way that makes it clear that it’s her own part of a bigger story, and it’s so sensitively done. Bravo Hemmo!
A very honest memoir which made me think about my own relationship with my body and tackles everything from dealing with sexual assault to recovering from pregnancy and birth.
The gender transition of her partner sets this book apart though and the honest and level-headed way this is dealt with is a lesson to all. It really challenged my own assumptions about gender and I’ll definitely take those learnings forward.
Alexandra Heminsley's memoir deals with some incredibly emotional topics, including her experience of sexual harassment on a train, traumatic IVF and her relationship changing when her partner begins their transition. These are handled well, with sensitivity and compassion avoiding any sensationalist depictions of the break down of her marriage. A heartfelt, honest and empathetic memoir about body image, exercise, fertility and self. I really enjoyed this, especially in audiobook form.
A really calm, gentle explanation of the author’s navigation through a turbulent and traumatic time. I particularly liked the way Heminsley describes bringing her head back in line to recognise her body as her own - I remember the untethered feeling of not recognising one’s own body after childbirth and she writes it really vividly. I also badly want to visit the Arctic Circle now, so there’s that!
I would actually give 3.5 but feel too mean only marking down as 3. In insight into the struggles of IVF and the discovery the person you fell in love with was not the person they wanted to be. I thought the back story and rediscovering of what loving your body meant was relevant. I did find it very repetitive in places and teased with information that didn’t quite open up to the full picture after a big build up. Beautiful descriptions and the passion and love is very clear.
I’ve devoured this beautiful book this week. The writing is stunning, as is the graceful manner Alexandra behaves with whilst experiencing circumstances many of us can’t imagine.
It is so much more than her experiences and in a gentle yet wise way explores the relationship between women, society and our physical form.
This is an autobiographical exploration of Alexandra’s relationship with her body. She has worked through some incredibly difficult situations, some of which made me feel desperately sad and others absolutely seething on her behalf. The writing is accessible but I found it hard to really connect with the author (resulting in the 3* rating).