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A review by elizabethmlilly
My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness by Nagata Kabi
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
informative
lighthearted
reflective
sad
tense
fast-paced
5.0
When I was 25, I went to Barnes and Noble and nervously flipped through pages of this book, looking over my shoulder. I thought if someone saw me reading this book, with the naked lady on the cover, they’d think I was a lesbian. Turns out I am!
Now at age 32, I bought this book at another Barnes and Noble and happily handed it to the cashier without a second thought. How wonderful.
This book is so raw about the worst and lowest point of the author’s life. I can’t believe how blunt she is about her own past actions that range from embarrassing to troubling. It’s concise, a small book that is so loud, each panel shouts and screams at the reader. (In a good way!)
Deeply insightful about intimacy and vulnerability, and how sex is much more those things than it is the physical act of humans touching each other’s bodies. Honestly much less “lesbian” than I thought in a way. I think by the end of the book, the author can’t even admit to herself yet that she IS a lesbian. It’s not clear.
I like that it’s not tied up with a neat “Queer American YA” type ribbon—I love myself, cue the pride flags. It captures the messy, choked-up middle of that journey and leaves us on a cliffhanger, hoping the best for the author in the future. I’m still thinking of her, hoping she’s like me now, happily handing lesbian books to bookstore cashiers.
Now at age 32, I bought this book at another Barnes and Noble and happily handed it to the cashier without a second thought. How wonderful.
This book is so raw about the worst and lowest point of the author’s life. I can’t believe how blunt she is about her own past actions that range from embarrassing to troubling. It’s concise, a small book that is so loud, each panel shouts and screams at the reader. (In a good way!)
Deeply insightful about intimacy and vulnerability, and how sex is much more those things than it is the physical act of humans touching each other’s bodies. Honestly much less “lesbian” than I thought in a way. I think by the end of the book, the author can’t even admit to herself yet that she IS a lesbian. It’s not clear.
I like that it’s not tied up with a neat “Queer American YA” type ribbon—I love myself, cue the pride flags. It captures the messy, choked-up middle of that journey and leaves us on a cliffhanger, hoping the best for the author in the future. I’m still thinking of her, hoping she’s like me now, happily handing lesbian books to bookstore cashiers.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Addiction, Eating disorder, Mental illness, Self harm, Sexual content, and Suicidal thoughts