This post was sponsored by Hachette Books but all opinions are my own. Partnerships like these help Feminist Book Club pay our contributors, so thanks for supporting small, independent media!
Laura Belgray is a wildly successful copywriter with a career that spans magazines, television, blogs, and more. Her essay collection Tough Titties: On Living Your Best Life When You’re the F-ing Worst releases today from Hachette Books and I was lucky enough to receive an advanced copy.
I’m not sure if I’m embarrassed or proud to admit that the subtitle (“When You’re the F-ing Worst”) speaks to me on a deep, deep level. I often call myself a garbage human… mostly because I’m cluttered and easily distracted, which results in leaving half-empty coffee cups in odd places around the house, or getting a parking ticket because I forgot to put the new tabs on my license plate because they’ve been in a doom pile of mail on my dining room table for 6 months (this happened last week and I’m still salty).
After moving back in with her parents after college, Belgray writes about how she became a permanent barfly at a local watering hole… and regularly getting her hole watered if you catch my drift. Instead of a “real job,” she was determined to become a bartender and this was her version of networking. I gotta say, I admire the gumption. And it sorta worked? At least, she met her husband through these connections, but that’s another chapter.
Belgray describes herself as a late bloomer. Her bartending era turned into an accidental copywriting job, which turned into a career, which turned into becoming a seven-figure entrepreneur. But she did all this on her own timeline in her own way. She wasn’t on any 30 under 30 lists… or 40 under 40 lists… but you may eventually find her on a 50 over 50 list? Here’s hoping. As a 37 year-old entrepreneur who feels way behind others in this field, I can relate. However, the most relatable essay is entitled “Baby Fever.”
Belgray and her husband Steven married in their 30s and spent several years on the fence whether they’d have children or not. Then finally, it came time for a decision:
‘If we don’t have kids,’ I asked, playing with my wedding ring, ‘will you absolutely, definitely be okay with that?’ Decisively, and with no trailing off, Steven answered yes. We’d talked about it over and over, but this time it made me feel alive instead of agonized. I felt the same excitement as I would when we’d later put in a real estate bid (on a larger one-bedroom, perfect for a couple with no kids). It was the thought, ‘Okay, we’re going for it!’ And we were. We were going for not going for it.
And that’s precisely how it felt for me. It was frustrating and terrifying to be on the fence, debating if and when having kids would be right or the right time. And when my partner and I finally decided it wasn’t for us, a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. I could finally channel my energy elsewhere. I could commit to something, anything, different. That was a few years ago. And now, I’m starting to experience the exact same response that Belgray describes. Child-free women are told “You get to be the cool aunt!” or “You’re a mom to your business!” or “You give birth to great ideas!”
Belgray explains: “The subtext is still that I need some sort of caregiving relationships to children to make me whole. Or, at least, a maternal connection to something….It’s okay, I’m all good.” Me too. I’m just fine not mothering. Sure, I call myself a dog mom, not out of necessity, but because my asshole dog needs some extra attention from time to time. And that’s plenty for me. You see, I’m a garbage person. I like afternoon naps and watching 6 episodes of Next Level Kitchen in one sitting and eating whatever I want whenever I want (and not sharing). Let’s be real, I read this book in one sitting while lounging in my quiet backyard, eating watermelon covered in Tajin and monitoring my bird feeder… nary a child nor responsibility in sight. And I can’t be expected to clean up after myself, so you know I’d be a cyclone of anxiety if a small human relied on me to keep anything organized. So yeah, it’s okay, I’m all good.
This essay collection is full of hilarious insights followed quickly by poignant reflections that made me feel seen in a lot of ways. If you’re a Gen X/elder Millennial and a fan of Nora McInerney, Lindy West, Mia Mercado, or Scaachi Koul, I have a feeling this book will be right up your alley.
