Joanne Vannicola has been one of my favourite actors since the early 2000s, when I was a teenager and fixated with CanCon (Canadian Content) and any woman who gave me even the smallest lesbian vibe. Like Ann-Marie McDonald, Joanne was out and open about it, and that was revolutionary to my teenage eyes.

Joanne's memoir is something else. It's beautifully written, the prose quite strong, but it is harrowing. Her story involves heavy amounts of child abuse, as Joanne and her sisters were physically abused by their horrifically violent father, and Joanne herself was sexually abused by her mother, who was obsessed with her and her childhood acting career. Her parents are despicable and Joanne is far, far more kind to them than I would be. She's an admirable woman.

Though I felt the later chapters were a bit weaker - the book is strongest when it's about Joanne's personal feelings and struggles. I would have liked for her to go into more detail about her healing but overall, what a beautiful and heartwrenching memoir. ( )