This was such a personal book for me. It starts off documenting one woman’s intense interest in those cheekbones (relatable), and delves into a multi-perspective investigation on women’s experiences in desire, joy, curiosity, creativity.

About 6 years ago I was obsessed with BBC Sherlock. OBSESSED. I made both my brothers watch the entire thing separately and would pause it to comment on how the lighting in one scene was a queer coded bisexual flag. I read many articles analysing each episode in extreme detail. My friends gave me Sherlock pillows, John Watson mugs. My ringtone was the Sherlock theme song. My phone’s “name” is still ‘Captain John Hamish Hotson’ when it connects to Bluetooth.
I was thirsty, as the author says in the book when talking about obsession.
“Thirsty, but only for water from one particular well.”
But I was embarrassed! A grown woman, who loved a TV show more than (basically) anything else. But this is an experience all women have. Not with Sherlock (lol), but with feeling embarrassed or guilty for enjoying something, being passionate about something.

I loved that author’s journey from trying to intellectualise female shame of enjoying ‘silly’ hobbies (ie. “I don’t really LIKE romance/pop music/makeup/insert interest here”) to being proud of knowing what you actually want and just bloody doing it. It’s the opposite of capitalism, of production, of always trying to be the right type of woman.

“Passion, fun. Grace freely given, joy freely shared. It’s the opposite of work. It’s play. Assignment of your time to whatever the fuck you feel like. It’s just… utter delight.”

I also loved all the interviews with various people with obsessions, how it impacted them and how they were afraid of others would think. It was so refreshing to hear about SO many people (literally millions) accessing Archive of our Own, a place that was so safe and amazing.

I’ll end with beautiful poem by Mary Oliver, excerpts included in this book.

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate.

Give in to it.

There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be.

We are not wise, and not very often kind.

And much can never be redeemed.

Still, life has some possibility left.

Perhaps this is its way of fighting back,

that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world.

It could be anything,

but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins.

Anyway, that’s often the case.

Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty.

Joy is not made to be a crumb.