Book Review: Deborah Copaken's Ladyparts

Thank you to Random House Publishing Group for providing me with a copy of Deborah Copaken’s memoir, Ladyparts, in exchange for an honest review.

Writer and photojournalist Deborah Copaken’s Ladyparts, begins over a decade after her first memoir, Shutterbabe, which detailed her early career as a war photographer in Afghanistan. In Ladyparts, Copaken chronicles her separation from her husband, Paul Kogan, and the subsequent stress, health, and financial issues that followed.

I can’t remember the last time that I read a memoir that made me feel every single emotion. All of the feels. Mostly, I felt anxiety and rage towards Copaken’s struggles. To be clear, Copaken is not seeking pity, but Ladyparts serves to shed a light on the inequalities in our society, especially those that women face.

When she sought divorce from her husband, she was left with the bills and childcare, while he restarted his life in California. This situation, along with job loss and health problems, such as a cancer diagnosis, caused extreme instability in Copaken’s life. She saw her savings dwindle to the point where she had to put off having critical surgeries or even reconsider taking not just an ambulance, but a cab, to the hospital during a health emergency. Copaken offers many statistics that show not only a severely flawed US health system, but specifically where the health system fails women. It made my blood boil.

She gives startling examples of how women’s health is simply not given research funds, and how many gynecologist are not trained to help post menopausal women. It’s terrifying and makes me livid. I have a family history of gynecological cancers in my family, and now I am the same age as both my mom and aunt when they had endometrial cancer. I’m constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. I felt very triggered and anxious when reading these sections of Ladyparts, especially as I’ve also been in Copaken’s position of not having health insurance. It’s terrifying and I don’t take it for granted now that I have it.

Copaken is so brave and honest. She gives a raw account of her medical situation, including a very graphic retelling of massive blood clots that expelled from her body after a complication from surgery. A complication that she was never briefed could happen, therefore making it even more serious and scary. At one point, she is explaining this at a dinner party and a friend cautions her to keep the details private, as it is not proper. Copaken refuses to be silent or tone down her story. I want to commend and thank her for sharing the details. It is important for women to be heard, especially in situations like these, where her story could help save lives.

My anxiety peaked when Copaken detailed her various problems at different companies. It was a reminder that freelancing (which I’m currently doing) is uncertain, and that the changes in technology and work culture have devalued the contributions of writers. Also, the idea that being middle-aged can be viewed as a liability or another reason to be devalued, made me feel ill. I worked for the same company for nearly fifteen years and it took me a long time to realize that there is little loyalty and no such thing as job security. I was raised by a mom who essentially worked for the same company her entire career and preached the gospel of finding a place and staying loyal, but that is simply not the way the world works now and Copaken’s experiences highlight this new way of doing things.

The #Metoo movement looms large in the last chapters of Ladyparts, as Copaken’s private life goes viral when she outs Ken Kurson, a major editor and friend of Donald Trump, for harassment, stalking, and derailing her career. The details are shocking, but ultimately this story breaking is a huge win.

Speaking of wins, one of the most poignant and beautiful moments comes towards the end, when Copaken encourages her son to “break the rules” and join her on their apartment rooftop to view Fourth of July fireworks bursting over the New York skyline. It’s an intimate moment between a mother and her son. Copaken reflects on time and makes an affecting comment on how our bodies are borrowed, and how we don’t know how much time we have in them, so we should live to the fullest. This resonated with me.

Ladyparts might be one of the most important, perspective changing writing that I have ever encountered. It certainly wasn’t an easy read, as I had to brace myself for the emotions every time I picked it up, but I absolutely recommend it to everyone. Copaken writes without mercy and is a force. Also, Copaken’s friendship and advice from Nora Ephron is fantastic.

Book Review- Doree Shafrir's Thanks for Waiting: The Joy (& Weirdness) of Being a Late Bloomer

Thank you to Random House Publishing Group Ballantine Books for providing me with a copy of Doree Shafrir’s memoir, Thanks for Waiting: The Joy (and Weirdness) of Being a Late Bloomer, in exchange for an honest review.

Writer and journalist Doree Shafrir’s memoir details her life as a self-professed “Late Bloomer.” Shafrir reflects on her life from her preteen years at camp, when she felt like the last girl to make-out with a boy, to her young-adult years, when she didn’t hit the same life milestones as her peers.

Thanks for Waiting is a reminder that life often doesn’t follow a schedule, but that also doesn’t mean that your life is less fabulous or somehow a failure as compared with others who seem to be living a more traditional path. Shafrir didn’t not find her husband, Matt, until she was in her mid-thirties and she did not have a child until years later, after many rounds of IVF. However, I don’t know if this necessarily makes her a “late bloomer.” I think she just blossomed in different areas.

As I read Thanks for Waiting, I viewed Shafrir as a woman focused on her education and career, both of which led her to incredible opportunities, including working for Buzzfeed. She mentioned the frustration of getting older and not owning property, yet she was living in New York City and Los Angeles. I’m Shafrir’s age and I lived a majority of my life in Los Angeles. I can count on one hand the friends in our age group that own homes. It’s an incredibly expensive city and certainly not a mark of failure to be a renter.

I think the “women having it all” is a bit of a myth. Happiness is certainly possible, but there are situations in everyone’s life where they have to make choices or give-up something to have something else. Shafrir compares herself to other women who seem to “have it all,” those who had career/marriage/babies/houses, all figured out by the time they were thirty. I suspect that most women compare or have been fed the cultural idea of a “time line.” We get anxious when everyone around us seems to be getting married or having babies. We are told that something is wrong if we deviate from the timeline. It’s a message that is hard to shake.

Although Shafrir admits to her anxieties of not hitting those milestones at the appropriate times and of being a “late bloomer,” in the end, it really doesn’t matter. The stress of her twenties and thirties, gives way to a new career, a loving husband, and a baby boy. She might be an older parents and her concept of her dream job has changed, but she is happy and thriving.

I enjoyed Thanks for Waiting, primarily for Shafrir’s honest writing. As someone who has also taken an unusual life path, I could relate to many parts of her memoir. It’s a strong reminder that life doesn’t always go according to plan and that’s okay.