This past summer, just coming off of my first two (somewhat chaotic) years of college, I was seeking a perspective switch in the form of a “healing era,” as recently popularized by social media. Reflecting on all the ways I had grown since I was an incoming freshman just two years prior, I decided to use the time at home to focus intently on exploring this new version of myself. In such a large pool of new faces in a new state, my freshman and sophomore years were marked by plenty of people weaving in and out of my life; I was struggling to make sense of how these numerous beginnings and endings would fit into the larger picture of my life. What did all of it mean?
about the book
Everything I Know About Love was loaned to me by a friend at just the right time, providing me comfort in comprehending my own experiences. Written by British author Dolly Alderton, this memoir chronicles her experiences with dating, friends, and, well, love. While this description may come off as a pretty standard run-of-the-mill autobiography, it is a unique take on subject matter that rarely gets the spotlight, especially in the realm of nonfiction. Our society brims with relationship-centered media that pushes the “soulmate” cliche, romanticizing “finding your other half” and equating romantic love with happiness and success. Even the content that I was fed from a young age pushed this ideology; every Disney princess I admired growing up found her “happily ever after” with a dashing prince who swooped in to save her. With this constant pressure to find love, it’s easy to lose yourself in chasing it…
Which is exactly what Dolly Alderton did, for the majority of her life. Her book starts with a segment titled “Everything I Knew About Love as a Teenager,” which kicks off with the proclamation: “Romantic love is the most important and exciting thing in the entire world.” The first few chapters recount Alderton’s adolescent experiences with dating, marked by awkward first kisses and obsessing over boys with fellow boy-obsessed friends. She moves on from the stereotypical teenage hysterics to explain what she, at the time, believed to be a more “mature” outlook on romance at 21; no longer captivated by the novelty of men, Alderton recounts her experiences with using intimacy to fulfill the physical and emotional voids that participating in hookup culture left her.
After multiple mishaps in her early 20s (some funny, some depressing, all somewhat relatable), the author found herself avoidant at 25 years old, bitter about being single while her closest friends paired off with loving partners. One of my favorite topics that Alderton covers is the awkwardness and disappointment of losing a close friendship to a budding relationship. I rarely see represented in the media the struggle of celebrating a friend’s newfound happiness, while also nervously anticipating the inevitable change in the dynamic of a friendship; accepting second place with the person you still put at number one. Alderton devotes a few pages to deconstructing the false reassurance from friends that “nothing will change” upon them getting a new boyfriend. She refutes this, emphasizing how no long-term romantic commitment can function without becoming a priority in most ways. This is a recurring topic throughout the book: Alderton is refreshingly honest with her audience, as she does not shy away from admitting her struggles with this jealousy. Her openness allows the reader to easily follow along her journey of growth, as she grapples with an ever-changing life and all of the things she cannot control.
Without diving too deeply into the content of the latter chapters of the book, Alderton wraps up her book with the wisdom of a 30-year-old reflecting on many years of experiences, good and bad. Admirably, she does not treat her own experiences as a cautionary tale, filled with regret and resentment for her past self. Instead, the author honors every heartbreak, loss, and bitter emotion she experienced as contributing to one of the main takeaways of the book: “Nearly everything I know about love, I’ve learned from my long-term friendships with women.” This theme, along with that of self-love and independence, serves as a reminder that love transcends the confines of relationships — oftentimes, we are just too caught up with everything else to notice.
my recommendation
With that being said, reading this book has opened my eyes to all of the love in my life that I had been mindlessly overlooking. Childhood friends who still check in on me, roommates who have seen me at my best and my worst, friends I met through work, class, or anywhere else — these connections, both big and small, have always brought light into my life, regardless of my own hardships. I am especially grateful to those who have stuck with me, no matter the circumstances, even when I may have been taking their friendship for granted.
This memoir has also made me feel especially appreciative of not only my platonic relationships but also of the love I hold for myself. Alderton comments on how a number of her issues were a projection of her own insecurities, offering advice towards the end of the book relating to self-love and prioritizing yourself before getting caught up in romance. Everyone has heard the motto, “You can’t love someone else if you don’t love yourself,” yet Alderton’s anecdotes and commentary on the topic manage to present it in a refreshing light.
All in all, Everything I Know About Love has insight that can resonate with just about anybody, especially those of college age who are just starting to figure out what they want out of the rest of their lives. For older sister-like wisdom and relatable introspection about navigating young adulthood, Dolly Alderton’s touching memoir is a must-read—especially during your healing era.