Liz Pryor

As a contemporary of the author, I remember being in high school where the absolute worst thing that could happen to a girl was getting pregnant. While there were some drugs and alcohol abused, there was no worse fate than being a slut, other than being a pregnant slut. Pryor was no slut, in fact she became pregnant by her high school boyfriend simply because they were both so innocent that no one truly understood the importance of protection. Her story is a wonderful one, where she not only survived a horrible experience in a home for unwed mothers, but also thrived and managed to help others less fortunate, and in doing so, discovered much about her values, thoughts and feelings. I found this book to be inspirational on many levels.… (altro)

Whenever I see a post or a comment saying, “Am I the only one who...?” or “It’s probably just me, but...” I always feel a righteous anger seasoned with derision. “NO, you are NOT the only one!” I tend to yell at my screen. Humanity’s obsession with individuality, and the strongly American “special snowflake” ideal runs rife through the way we think about ourselves and others. I like to think that I am uniquely aware of this situation (funny about that) and can’t help but feel slightly superior to anyone who truly thinks they are the ONLY ONE that thinks, likes, or does anything in particular.

As I read the closing couple of pages of What Did I Do Wrong?, I saw a reply in my mind’s eye of the few times I’ve lamented my loneliness to my partner. “What is wrong with me?” I often ask rhetorically. “Why does everyone in my life decide they are better off without me? Why am I the only one without any real, lasting friendships?”

As heightened with emotion as those conversations were, I didn’t stop to chastise myself as I often do to others. I didn’t stop to tell myself, logically, of course you’re not the only one. Other people lose friends all of the time.

However, I honestly had never considered the sheer amount of female friendships that fade into oblivion with thousands of unanswered questions. I have had two big ‘B’ Best Friends in my life walk away from me without a word of explanation. Not a week goes by where I don’t think of either of them, even though I haven’t spoken to either one for 8 years and 6 years, respectively.

These experiences made What Did I Do Wrong? a really difficult read for me, but also a really important one. Interestingly, it never once answered the question of what I did wrong. Oftentimes no one ever did anything wrong. These things just happen. And after reading multiple stories about people on both sides of these “break ups”, it has become clear that more often than not, it is equally as painful for both parties.

I don’t feel better, necessarily, after reading this book, but I do feel justified in my pain, and that’s something I’ve never had before.… (altro)