Kerry Cohen

I'm learning that the more personal a book is to me, the harder it is to review it. Seems like it should make it easier, but it doesn't. I don't totally agree with Ms. Cohen on some things, but that doesn't make the book any less impactful. I finished this book four days ago, but I couldn't find the words to write a review.

At first, I found it hard to relate to her because when she first started seeking help for her son, she didn't want anyone to think badly of him, so she didn't tell the doctors and therapists everything they needed to know to properly evaluate him. I'm a straight-up kind of gal, and I figure that even if the "experts" don't have all the answers, they can't help us if they don't know what's going on. Eventually, though, she moved past that. She came to a point at which she could tell the doctors everything, but she didn't hesitate to get up and walk out if their needs weren't being met. That's my kind of mom.

The question Ms. Cohen keeps repeating in her book is one that I think every parent of a special-needs child faces. It doesn't matter what your opinion is on alternative therapies, or curing autism. The most important thing is: Where is the line between helping him with the areas where the world feels hard for him and negating who he is?

There is some foul language in this book, but don't let that stop you. It always helps me to read about how other moms are dealing with challenges. Not only do I usually learn something, it helps me to not feel so alone. (No matter how much support we have, I think sometimes we all feel like no one else knows what it's like.)… (altro)

Good, empowering read about girls and sexual attitudes. Cohen treats the subject with honesty and candor. One of the most impressive statements comes from a section on "good" girls and virginity. We are taught to "respect" our bodies and not give sex away, wait until marriage. Cohen says how is that respecting your body, when you deny yourself pleasure? Not that 13 year olds should be sexually active; just that waiting for marriage and being virginal does not make you more of a woman or more respectable.
I think this is a must read for any teenage girl, or her parents. Preferably both, and then a discussion should follow.… (altro)

Clearly a quick and easy read, since I finished it in one day. This was an interesting and often sad and desperate story about a girl seeking love through sex. She feels powerful when she sleeps with guys, but after it is over she feels as though she is still looking for something...something she will never find by sleeping with dozens of men. I found her promiscuity easy to blame on her absent mother and permissive father, but in actuality it was her lack of self esteem and willingness to do dangerous things. Don't get me wrong, I'm not judging her. Part of me actually identified with her..the power of seducing a guy, the hope that it may be extra special...and the let down feeling when you realize it was just another mistake. Cohen became a writer and is able to articulate her feelings, along with spending time in therapy, which certainly helped.

I hope she is happy with her life now...and she has all her issues under control. I'm also glad that she wrote this book, to help all of understand the working of a woman's mind.… (altro)

This isn't what I thought it would be.

This is a difficult book to read; not only because of the self-hate the author had for herself, but because of the pain that a double standard for the male and female-identified genders causes. I completely agree with those who reject gender.
When I was young, my mother made it very clear to me, but there was one set of rules for my older brother, and another for myself. I had no intention of abiding by these rules, and tried to follow everything that my brother, my hero, did. Oh, but you will be treated differently if you do that! Which she did. I was a slut; my brother was her darling boy.
My mama is long gone now, but the pain she inflicted on me from this double standard still comes back, especially when I read a book about this subject matter.
My mama couldn't show affection; it wasn't in her makeup. My father was too taken up with his depressive disorder, and consequent rage with the world, to notice that his kids were observing all of the violence that he did to himself. He would slam his head against the wall in rage. Meanwhile, my mama would cry and claim that she was just an old workhorse, that she would just run away.
My mom and dad had seven kids, that they were not financially nor emotionally equipped to raise up. I thought I could find love and acceptance with boys, when I came into puberty. What I learned, very painfully learned, was that boys used girls as objects, and then threw them away. I kept trying to find love, until I was halfway through my life. And then I realized, that my subconscious would only ever choose a partner who would hurt me. That was when I decided: I don't have to have a partner. Moreover, I realized that I was the only one who would treat myself the way that I wanted to be treated.
It's been many years since I left relationships off my plate. Better late than never, my mama always said.

The author says about girls as young as 10 and 11:
"what statistics can't get at are the feelings of uncertainty and confusion that surround a young girl's sexual behavior. They don't get at how easy it is for a girl to use sex for attention. A boy once said to me, 'boys have to put forth real effort to get laid, while all you have to do is stand braless in the wind.' It's true. What's easier for a girl than to get noticed for her body? Using my sex appeal was default behavior. To not do so would have required more effort. Add to this the fact that I was desperate for attention - any attention - and men's interest in my body was the easiest avenue to being noticed. Of course, I confused their base interest with love. I needed to believe it meant something."
While the author led an entitled existence - her father was an engineer in the higher ups, and her mother was an artist, her parents were too self-involved to give their daughters the guidance they needed. Her father tried to be her and her sister's friend, and would hang out when they had their friends over, even bringing out a joint and lighting it up. Their mother, who their father abandoned, was almost hysterical with her grief, when he left. She acted more like her daughters' child, and grasped needily for their affection.
While their mother tries to make up for her lack of guidance with false words, their father makes up for his lack of parenting by buying his daughters things:
"later, though, knowing I'm upset, he drives me to Riverside Mall to buy clothes. It's our ritual. His way of doing something for me. It's a cliche, really. The divorced Dad buying his daughter's love. He waits on the bench the store provides for dads just like mine, the ones who will tirelessly wait while we, the daughters, try on clothes. And clothes shopping does make me feel better, at least briefly, because each new belly-bearing top or pair of close-fitting jeans creates one more possibility for me to attract a new boy. And a new boy could mean another chance at love.
Is there another reason girls Buy clothes?
At the register the saleslady Tallies the damage: $288 and change. Dad shakes his head and smiles at the woman conspiratorially.
'Daughters,' He says. 'They're so expensive.'
He says the same thing every time."

When the author is a teenager, and has already made inroads into her sex life with several partners, she reflects, after a hurried coupling with a boy, who has just left her after f****** her,
"he pulls his body away, the air suddenly cold. He pulls on his jeans, runs a hand through his dark hair, and goes off to the bathroom. I turn again to see my reflection in the window. I am lying on the couch, alone, shadowy. A Corpse. I quickly pull on my shirt and underwear. I fasten my bra beneath my shirt. I hear Dave in the kitchen and turn to see him pouring more whiskey. He holds a glass toward me, and I shake my head. I ask instead for water, which he brings me. That's nice.
When Amy and I leave that night, Dave hugs me then chucks me under the chin. It is sweet, affectionate, a Big brother's gesture. I smile, not knowing what else to do. I guess this is just how it is. Having sex is lukewarm, something you share for an evening. It's friendship-building. What else should it be?"

"heath" is her first boyfriend. Their relationship is a run of sex, until the day he tires of her, and gets cooler and then colder towards her. He breaks up with her, but she pleads with him not to. This part is triggering for me, because it reminds me of what I actually did when my boyfriends used to break up with me. I would ask them "what did I do?" not realizing that it wasn't me, it was them. It's heartbreaking how much boys can hurt girls, when all it's about is their penises, and for the girls it's about their tender innocent hearts.
" 'Kerry,' he says. I grip the phone, holding on to my name, his voice saying my name. 'It's over.' He wants to get off the phone, be done with it. He and his friends call having a girlfriend 'dealing,' and now he doesn't want to deal anymore.
'Can we at least talk in person about this?' I ask.
He sighs. "You can come here now, I guess.'
20 minutes later I park the Civic in front of his house. Before I have a chance to get out, he comes out the front door and slips into the passenger seat. Keeping me away from his home again. My heart is pounding, my mouth dry.
'what did I do?' I ask.
He leans his head back against the seat, revealing his pale neck, his Adam's apple. I wish so much he would just gather me in his arms, but I know that isn't going to happen.
'I just wanted to have some fun, you know?' "

The author reflects on the double standard for girls and boys, that she discovered when they were in high school, and everyone was having sex with everybody else. However, there was a slight difference:
".. there were plenty of other girls who were having sex. None of the jennifers were virgins, and neither were most girls I knew. However, these girls, unlike Kate and Sarah, kept sex restricted to relationships. I gossiped along with them, but secretly I wondered why it was the girl's fault that the guy didn't want more than a one-night stand. For all the ways we were told girls had equal opportunities, all the evidence that we wouldn't have to struggle to have what men have, this double standard seemed intractable. If a girl had sexual curiosity - and what girl doesn't? - she was considered a ho. Boys could direct the course of their sexual development; girls couldn't. It was the oldest dichotomy in the world. And it was also terribly confusing. I didn't want to be a slut. No one does. But since I didn't seem able to hold on to guys for more than a few weeks, I didn't see any alternatives that didn't include stopping sex entirely."

The sex goes on and on, and the author gets a lot of therapy. I feel like she never really figured things out, but according to the book, a man suddenly appeared that valued her for her mind, more than her body. They married and lived happily ever after. This is unreal to me, and I find it hard to believe it lasted.
The author talks about when she was a child and defended animals. However, I saw nowhere in the book where she talked about being a vegan, so I assume she means every animal except for farm animals.
".. when I was a little girl I used to love animals. I used to whimper over every smashed squirrel on the road, outraged at human carelessness. I used to run in front of strangers on sidewalks, stopping them so they wouldn't step on an ant. 'It's alive and you're alive,'I used to explain, adamant in my conviction. I wanted to be a veterinarian, or maybe a wildlife biologist. I imagined myself comforting a dog as I pulled sharp burrs from its paws, or in the wild somewhere, like Jane Goodall, coming to know some special animal the way she knew chimpanzees. But somewhere along the way I let that go too, lost to boys. Everything lost to boys..."
Oh, so that's what happened.
However, I commend the author for baring herself to judgment, especially by any man who reads this.
This disparity in how sex is treated between boys and girls needs to be exposed for what it is: a sickening, disgusting, harmful rule written by men.… (altro)