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Not Oprah’s Book Club: Are You My Guru?
The thing is, you don’t need to have experienced an autoimmune disease to deeply connect this memoir. So much of it is about the universal wanderings and wonderings that come about with ye ole modern life, questions like: am I really in charge of my own destiny? Why do bad things happen to me? How can I deal with my shit once and for all? Is my anger at my boyfriend causing this UTI?
Wendy is like a funnier version of the inside of my brain, where I am constantly ping-ponging between feeling like a cynic and an idealist, a pessimist and an optimist, a proponent in rational diagnosis and a believer in the deeper truth that things are really f-ing complicated and mysterious. It’s always nice to have your own neurosis and confusion show up in a book like this because it means, a) you’re not alone and b) someone funnier than you can help you figure out how to laugh at yourself a little better.
In the end, that’s the healing 100% of us need.