I've been a fan of Doree Shafrir for over a decade. First, through her work as a journalist. Then, by reading her debut novel, Startup. And now, as a loyal listener of her podcast, Forever35.
It was on the show that I learned she'd be writing a memoir about her experience as a self-described late bloomer. In fact, her memoir's official title is: Thanks for Waiting: The Joy (and Weirdness) of Being a Late Bloomer.
Before the book even came out, I had a feeling I would relate to many of the experiences Shafrir would share. At the age of thirty seven, I am one of the few people in my peer group who is single. I have watched nearly everyone around me get engaged, get married and have children.
As a listener of her podcast, I had heard Shafrir talk about her experience meeting her husband in her mid-thirties, getting married nearly a decade after most of her friends, and becoming a mother for the first time after age forty. I had a gut feeling this memoir would speak to me.
I am not sure that a single blog post provides enough space for me to talk about how deeply I resonated with this book. It felt like Shafrir was admitting things I've been afraid to say out loud for years.
For example, in the introduction she writes, " . . . but as my early thirties turned into my midthirties and then my late thirties, I started to feel like I had been left behind, that everyone else's lives had moved on and progressed, and I was still the female Peter Pan singing a slightly off-key version of Mariah Carey's 'We Belong Together' (deceptively tough karaoke song; still brings down the house every time). For men, there's just not as much pressure to do things on a timeline; the image of the man who takes an especially long time to 'find' himself is one that has long enshrined, even venerated, in our collective cultural consciousness. But most women aren't afforded the luxury of doing things on their own time."
The book covers three main topics: work, dating and motherhood. Shafrir struggled to find her "dream job," bouncing from media outlet to media outlet, sometimes of her own choosing and other times due to layoffs. Eventually she makes the decision to relocate from New York City to Los Angeles, which massively impacts the course of her life.
In Los Angeles, she finds joy in the daily dose of vitamin D and driving a convertible. She meets her now husband, Matt. And she starts meeting up with a friend to write. That friend is Kate Spencer, who becomes her partner and co-host in the world that is Forever35.
Her path in her romantic life was an equally bumpy one. After living with a boyfriend in New York City, she decides to end things and move into her own place. For months, she pines for a contributing writer at Rolling Stone (her workplace at the time), but when she tries to define their relationship, he recoils. She gives dating apps a try - OKCupid, Tinder - and goes on so many bad dates she starts to lose hope.
In the middle of all of this, her younger sister gets engaged and married. Shafrir is very candid about how tough it was to be the single, older sister during the entire wedding planning process. Oh, Doree. Thank you for making all of us older, single sisters feel seen! This part of the book was particularly comforting, as I haven't had the occasion to talk to many other women who have been in this same situation.
Eventually, there is a happy ending for Shafrir. It was encouraging and hopeful to read about the early weeks in her relationship with Matt, how they decided to move in together and eventually, get married. They paid for their wedding themselves and threw a big party in Las Vegas.
The third and final section of the book is about her struggle to become pregnant. At this stage of my life, I've had many friends and co-workers move through the incredibly painful realities of infertility. Shafrir writes about this time in her life with brutal honesty.
On page 227, "The whole time we were doing IVF, I hadn't truly allowed myself to consider all possible outcomes; I had just assumed that we would end up with a baby that was biologically ours at hte end. That was why we were doing this, right? That was what the doctors told us would happen. But I was choosing to ignore the fact that IVF does not give one single shit about how carefully you followed the protocols, or if you'd bought a car for a baby, or stayed at a job so you'd have maternity leave for a baby, or how much you thought you deserved this baby. IVF is here to say, 'Who the hell do you think you are? You don't deserve this baby. You don't deserve anything.' IVF was going to make me its bitch and it was going to make sure I knew it."
I know that's heavy and hard to read. In the end, Shafrir does get pregnant and gives birth to a son. In fact, the book's dedication reads, "To Matt and Henry, who were both worth waiting for."
If you've ever felt that you were behind, this memoir will make you feel less alone. Shafrir is brave and vulnerable, sharing on topics that so many people shy away from or gloss over.
This is one of those books that I'll keep on my bookshelf and refer back to anytime I need a reminder that there's no "right" path. Everyone's route is different and the destination may not wind up being the place you thought you were headed.
