Honey’s witty, frank storytelling makes this book compulsively readable. The insightful story of a Black-identified biracial woman’s search for love.” —Kirkus Reviews
“A nuanced and engaging narrative of a young woman struggling through love and heartbreak.” —Booklist
“From hookups to situationships to relationships that are filled with emotional walls, Honey moves through her 20s the way most do: wildly but guarded, unable to love but desiring it.…But The Heartbreak Years is more than that. It’s about navigating the non-romantic heartbreaks of your 20s as well: the battle of working hard but not earning enough money, moving elsewhere only to back move home, feeling like an utter failure, and realizing you’re disappointing yourself but not wanting to change badly enough.” —Shondaland
“Every few decades, there’s that one book that shapes directly how we all understand the potentially radical, and radically heartbreaking, space between touching and being touched, running to and running away…Minda Honey has created a momentous piece of art, of course, but most importantly, The Heartbreak Years will teach a generation of us what’s possible when writing through, to, and beneath the pulpy inside of desire and fear.” —Kiese Laymon, bestselling author of Long Division and Heavy
“If The Heartbreak Years were a person, it’d be the girl you meet in line for the bathroom at the club. Vulnerable, hilarious, there to whisper hard-earned wisdom into your ear while holding back your hair. Minda Honey has written a fierce rallying cry for the single and lovesick, for those who dare to see the hope in being a romantic. The stories in this book are vibrant, tender, self-aware without being jaded, compulsively readable but never easy. When some f’boy has got you down, Honey’s words are an outstretched hand reaching to lift you back up.” —Edgar Gomez, author of High-Risk Homosexual and Alligator Tears
2023-08-03
The daughter of “a Black veteran and a Filipino immigrant” reflects on her romantic history.
Growing up, Honey was obsessed with romance novels. “I fantasized about living in that serene, happily-ever-after moment when the girl and the guy in the movie have found their way back to each other,” she writes. Though the author experienced sexual assault as a teenager, she remained obsessed with finding true love. As she grew older, this need grew increasingly practical: Referring to marriage’s financial and logistical benefits, she writes, “a relationship is the cheat code to make everything else easier.” Unfortunately, she adds, “a relationship was the thing that I and most Black women knew were missing from our lives despite our many successes.” As though to confirm Honey’s fears, over the years, she weathered a series of unsuccessful romances with partners ranging from her high school boyfriend, to a man who with whom she pursued casual sex, to a man who wooed her into an emotionally intense, confusingly nonsexual relationship. By the end of the book, Honey muses, “it’s been more than a decade since my last long-term relationship….Maybe my romantic relationships are so short because, in my experience, it’s been much easier to be happy without a man than it has been to be happy with a man.” The author’s candid self-reflection illustrates the depth of her transformation, and her conflicted and at times contradictory desires add a welcome layer of complexity to an already nuanced narrative. At times, Honey seems to shy away from her most vulnerable moments. For example, she glosses over her potential alcoholism and her mother’s apparent illness, both of which leave gaps in her story. Overall, though, Honey’s witty, frank storytelling makes this book compulsively readable.
The insightful story of a Black-identified biracial woman’s search for love.