This was a book I really wanted to like, but it didn't quite hit me as much as I wanted it to. There were some incredible panels, and even pages, but the whole thing didn't get as deep into Nichols' actual experiences as I wanted it to. It seems more oriented to be read by cis (especially cishet) people than other trans/LGBQ people. As a queer trans person of faith, this seemed kind of repetitive and surface-oriented. The blurb that takes up the majority of the back cover misgenders Nichols consistently. That seems telling. ( )

This was a very sad and sweet book that I very much related to. ( )

Oooof. This book was so raw. So much pain and hope and joy and sadness. So much bare honesty and abject need. Very powerful. ( )

A trans male recounts his childhood and eventual transition through the fascinating prism of communities. Growing up as Laura is Louisiana, Nichols was constantly torn between the loving support of family and church and terror of the condemnation and damnation from those same groups should struggles with sexuality and gender ever be revealed. Despite struggles with anxiety and depression, Laura and later L. are able to continually find communities in high school, college and beyond from which they can draw the positive energy and support they need to find a way to becoming the person he wants to be. And part of that is a strong attachment to religion, which is often absent or downplayed in these sort of memoirs. It was interesting to see how faith can be kept even when your church is attacking the very core of your identity.

My only problems with the book are that some of the author's themes were hammered home with way too much repetition throughout while other huge developments in Nichol's life were glossed over much too quickly, especially the whole last chapter. ( )