PRAISE FOR NO ONE TELLS YOU THIS

"No One Tells You This takes readers from Canada to New York to Wyoming in its mapping of contemporary adulthood, unmoored from the institutions that once defined it for women. Wrestling with loneliness, independence, grief and exhilaration, MacNicol offers a piercing examination of what it means both to love grown-up, complicated women—mothers, sisters, friends, intergalactic princesses—and to be one.”

—Rebecca Traister, author of All The Single Ladies 

"Revealing as a three-martini lunch with a smart friend, this candid memoir shows a woman choosing to live happily (if also conflictedly) ever after on her own."

—Ada Calhoun, author of Wedding Toasts I'll Never Give

No One Tells You This is the story of a woman living by her own rules—alone—and having the audacity to enjoy it. Glynnis lays bare the complexity of being a woman on her own in the world, in all its heartbreak, humor and, yes, joy.”

—Jessica Bennett, author of Feminist Fight Club 

“Glynnis has written a book that is honest, hilarious and raw—it misses nothing. Her voice literally jumps off the page and becomes your friend, sister, caretaker, asskicker.”

—Alyssa Mastromonaco, author of Who Thought This Was a Good Idea

“Glynnis MacNicol generously imparts the kind of wisdom we are usually so loathe and suspicious to receive. She doesn't proselytize, she doesn't pander, she doesn't beat you over the head with inspirational buzzwords. She simply tells the truth about her life. In my 20s, I was too dumb and terrified to articulate my desires. In my 30s, my fear is that society won't let me become the woman I want to be. This is the blueprint.”

— Aminatou Sow, co-host of the Call Your Girlfriendpodcast
 

“Beguiling”—Washington Post

 “Sharp, intimate… Unapologetic in her embrace of the ups and downs of the improvised solo life, MacNicol offers a refreshing view of the possibilities—and pitfalls—personal freedom can offer modern women. A funny, frank, and fearless memoir.”
—KIRKUS REVIEWS

"A memoir that will help women of all ages and life circumstances understand the experience of today’s single-and-joyful woman."
—BOOKPAGE

“No One Tells You This is the most empowering memoir you’ll read all summer.”

 —Hello Giggles

"Rapturous. Enjoying every line!" 
—Sally Kohn, ReadItForward.com
 
"How does the single, middle-aged woman live when she's not relegated to the role of the cautionary tale, the punchline spinster, the wacky aunt whose family suffers her visits out of equal parts love and pity? In No One Tells You This, MacNicol forges her own storyline, drawing power from herself. It's a year of dating unabashedly, traveling freely, surviving grief, and redefining family. That she lets us in on this journey is a gift.”
—BuzzFeed

“Sharp, hilarious, enthralling…This book is an essential read for women who both are and aren't checking off all the boxes we're told we're supposed to.”
—NYLON

Journalist Glynnis MacNicol has written one of the most frank and refreshing stories about turning forty without a husband or a baby. She manages to both entertain and challenge the reader as she grapples with the best and worst parts of choosing not to build her life around a traditional family. It’s smart and hilarious and exactly as nuanced as you want it to be."
—GOOP

"Amid the raft of motherhood memoirs out this summer, it’s refreshing to read a book unapologetically dedicated to the fulfillment of single life. Like a more zoomed-in chapter from Rebecca Traister’s All the Single Ladies, MacNicol’s offering is a personable, entertaining reflection on the author’s 40th year. Though she is known for her exacting, emotional, and poignant writing on things like career burnout and parental illness, as well as founding the women’s networking organization The List, this memoir allows MacNicol a broader and looser canvas."
—VOGUE.com

"Engaging and honest...MacNicol is relatable, and the joy she finds in her life, lived on her own terms, is striking."
—BOOKLIST 

Autorentext
Glynnis MacNicol is a writer and cofounder of The Li.st. Her work has appeared in print and online for publications including Elle.com (where she was a contributing writer), The New York Times, The Guardian, Forbes, The Cut, Daily News (New York), W, Town & Country, The Daily Beast, mental_floss, and Capital New York. Her series of articles on the Brownsville neighborhood in Brooklyn for Chase’s award-winning “From the Ground Up” package won a 2015 Contently Award. She is the author of the memoir No One Tells You This and the coauthor of There Will Be Blood, a guide to puberty, with HelloFlo founder Naama Bloom. She lives in New York City.

Klappentext

Synopsis coming soon.......

Zusammenfassung
Synopsis coming soon.......

Leseprobe
No One Tells You This

1. The Forecast

Eight hours before my fortieth birthday, I sat alone at my desk on the seventeenth floor of an office building in downtown Manhattan, unable to shake the conviction that midnight was hanging over me like a guillotine. I was certain that come the stroke of twelve my life would be cleaved in two, a before and an after: all that was good and interesting about me, that made me a person worthy of attention, considered by the world to be full of potential, would be stripped away, and whatever remained would be thrust, unrecognizable, into the void that awaited.

It was ridiculous. Deep down, I knew it was ridiculous. However, knowing this did not keep me from anxiously glancing at the clock out in the hallway as if the hands on it were actual blades.

I thought of my mother, of course. Whether or not we actually resemble the image we see, our mothers are our first, and most lasting, reflection of ourselves: a mirror we gaze into from birth until death.

I was eight when my mother turned forty, and while I could no longer recall the exact details of that day, I did have a vague memory of it being surrounded by the sort of manic hysteria I associated with the Cathy cartoons that were sometimes clipped and taped to our fridge. My mother loved the comics; she found joy in their simple, two-dimensional humor. For most of her life she would try to hand the comic strip section of the newspaper to me over the breakfast table or read them aloud, so I could enjoy them too. I never did. I was baffled that anyone found them interesting; they were so bloodless. At age eight, the appeal of the Cathy cartoon, about a single woman with heavy thighs, who dimly battled with her weight, her dating life, and her job, all with pathetic aplomb, was especially confusing. My interest in those days was almost exclusively directed at Princess Leia and Laura Ingalls. This sad Cathy creature, so often pictured feverishly trying to shove herself into bathing suits in department store changing rooms, struck me as the exact version of life I would happily expend all my future energy avoiding. Which is largely what I did.

My strongest impression of my mother’s birthday, however, was that it was an ending. I sensed an abandon all hope, ye who enter here message woven into the colorful birthday cards that arrived in the mail for her. As if simply by turning forty, my mother had somehow failed at something. And now here I was so many yea…