Though it’s no match to I Feel Bad About My Neck: And Other Thoughts On Being a Woman, it’s so apparent from the first few paragraphs that Heartburn has also been drizzled with Nora Ephron’s magic. I finished the book over the weekend and enjoyed It immensely. Except for the cooking part. I wasn’t there for it.

Heartburn is a work of fiction that is heavily based on Nora Ephron’s life.

I find it refreshing that in the book Rachel, although was carrying a child and attending to a toddler, didn’t make the story about her pregnancy nor the baby. Instead, it’s about her, specifically her heartbreak.

The book managed to bend my opinions on people who forgive their spouses for cheating, before straightening it again.

It reinforces my life approach as an adult:

Well, it might be absolutely shit right now, but maybe there is a story in it

— me.

She showed me that you can hate someone (Thelma Rice, her husband’s mistress) but still be classy about it (e.g. she wrote about Thelma being funny or that she has long legs), inspired me to sign up for group therapy once this pandemic dies down as it might be good for me to talk things out, reminded me that strong friendships are important and to take my life lightly and my oath loyally.

I also find being proposed on a plane rather cute. And that Washington isn’t all that, New York is.

There were many more pages in the book I resonated with, but the last chapter, when she told herself: “No he doesn’t love you, you can throw the pie on his face” was the one that lingered until now, a week later when I type this post

What a relief it’s to realize no point staying in a relationship when the other person doesn’t love you after feeling hurt repeatedly. I remember the moment I felt the same, though it happened more than a decade ago, it was the moment I’ll never forget because that was the moment I chose myself. And that was also the moment Nora chose herself and moved back to New York.

In conclusion, Heartburn is absolutely a must for every woman who has been hurt, forgiven, and moved on.  I wish I had read it sooner.

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