The truths and lies we tell ourselves can and do shape our lives. You’re ugly. You’re stupid. You’re worthless. These are the lies that devastate us, worming their way into our hearts, especially when we’re young or feeling down and vulnerable.
Truth is a trickier, more colourful fish, though. What exactly is the truth of who you are? What’s your story? What’s your history? The answers to these questions are far harder to pin down. But these are exactly the questions that enrich our lives with love, curiosity, wisdom and possibility, if we dare to follow their trails of breadcrumbs through time.
What is my identity?
Where do I belong?
Where is home?
Why am I sad?
Why am I afraid?
What do I really want to do with this crazy gift called life?
Truth shifts around these questions as we grow and, if we’re lucky, we never do stop growing. And learning. And questioning.
The Truth & Addy Loest is my trip through these conundrums as they hit me on the cusp of womanhood, at university in the mid-1980s. It’s not a memoir of any sort – my memory of those days is pretty hazy for reasons of too much anxiety-induced befuddlement and hard-partying that will become clear in the pages of the book.
But it is brimming with my truths. And my favourite among them comes from the mouth of a papier mache zebra in a Newtown op shop who tells Addy not to listen to the lies but to remember that she’s perfect and important just the way she is. Because we all are. In all our shape-shifting uncertainty and imperfection and absurdity and occasional terror, we’re all near enough to one-hundred percent wonderful. We’re all capable of fixing our mistakes, too, when we’re brave enough to face our own music. And we’re most definitely all infinitely magical.
Find out why on the first of Feb, when Addy steps out in paperback, ebook and audiobook from all major online retailers worldwide.
I hope you enjoy the ride.