We had nothing in common. She was a magazine editor in Manhattan, admiring sky scrapers and city lights. I was a career counselor in suburbia, enjoying views of undulating mountains. She struggled in a tumultuous relationship, while I married a wonderful, reliable man. She lost her job suddenly and against her will while I gave up my job willingly to become a stay-at-home mom. Despite these differences, I found myself able to relate to Dominique Browning, the author of Slow Love.
In this memoir, Browning describes using food as a coping mechanism, a period of excessive sleep, a period of insomnia, a feeling of not being needed, and her sense of busy-ness without actual accomplishment. These experiences of an unemployed life are familiar, perhaps even universal, to anyone who has lost a job. Although we may not all be able to relate to a generous severance package, we can relate to her loss of purpose.
As a Career Counselor, I found the book to be an easy-to-read memoir about life and lay-offs in tumultuous economic times. However, I kept waiting for more. I felt like an eavesdropper, eagerly anticipating some juicy gossip, only to eventually be disappointed by the mundane. I found the book to be a well-written, yet somewhat unnecessary, look into one woman’s life. As a woman, I found the tug-of-war romance to be tedious, frustrating, and really not all that interesting. All of that being said, this book had one grand redeeming quality: an unexpected relatability.
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This was a paid review for BlogHer Book Club but the opinions expressed are my own.