Review for Girls of a Certain Age: The Anxiety Shrink

While scrolling through my social media platforms as one normally does for hours on end, I came across a thread of books that have queer representations of lesbian women and, with absolutely no constraints or thoughts of how overwhelmed I was about to be, I went to Libby and put every. single. one of them on hold. However, luckily enough, one was already available before my impending anxiety doom of seven books out at once (a fate I’m currently facing), and its title is Girls of a Certain Age by Maria Adelmann. A lovely name that sounds like it’s straight out of Sound of Music, Adelmann’s collection of short stories doesn’t quite capture the cheeriness of “My Favourite Things,” but is a beautiful set of stories in a more melancholic, expressive way.

What is ironic about this collection of short stories is that it is about exactly what the title says, girls of a certain age, but even though all the girls and women are their own characters and at different ages, they each seem to be the same woman in their core. Further, they all share the same trait that I have both seen in almost every woman and femme I know and been subject to myself, which is the anxiety shrink: the fear of not being enough or too much, such so that the task of bending and shrinking into a perceived more manageable and consumable version of oneself becomes natural. Whether that be through spooning coffee grounds into the garbage because a roommate doesn’t like the sound, taking care of an unwanted guinea pig because a friend believes they give responsibility, or having sex for the first time on a beach with an older man because that’s what he wants (and he’s been so patient for being such an older man, after all), each of these stories illustrates women who change themselves in some way for someone or something else.

Personally, what is so striking to me about these stories is how it resonates with the entire colonial construction of gender and womanhood. Heavy, I know, but bear with me. What I find most interesting in these stories is how, sometimes, after the main character changes back to how she was before she made herself into something else for a friend, co-worker, or partner, there is still an emptiness – a space she in unsure of how to fill. The best stories then, I think, are the ones that pertain more towards the main character altering her actions and personality towards a societal expectation. The last story, “The Wayside,” demonstrates this best, which is likely why it’s the longest of the bunch. Each character surrounding the main one, May, holds a specific purpose in showcasing the dangers of hetero-patriarchal constraints. I don’t want to give too much away so all I’ll say is this: Ted sucks. You'll see why. And for reasons outside of plot development, too, to showcase how easy it is to fall into the trap of believing that part of a woman’s purpose is to do what people, and specifically men, need or want of them, especially as we grow up and are so susceptible to what our identities (sexual, gender, or otherwise) should be. Every single story in this collection illustrates this in some way.

So, I think that under all the strife of the anxiety shrink is this genuine question of where purpose and identity are supposed to lie if women and femmes strip straight cis men from their ideals and lives completely. It is that emptiness I referred to earlier that I think some of the women in these stories struggle to fill, especially considering the pull towards the ideal patriarchal feminine type never ceases. And just as I began wondering where the lesbian representation was since most of the characters in the stories are straight (or without clear girlfriends), Adelmann introduces the story "Middlemen" into the mix to show how lesbian women often cannot escape this patriarchal pull either since someone they love is likely going to fall into to it at some point, too. Long story short, I think that, as per usual with the short story collections I read, there is much more happening in the pages of these stories than random pictures of what life looks like for different girls and women.

Adelmann’s writing style is also wonderful. She, as the cover page shows, has such an excellent use of imagery that extends beautifully into the overarching themes of the work. The best part about well written short stories lies in is how much they pack into such a short amount of space while reaching not just into other stories, but morals and ethics as well. I did find that at some points the writing for a few stories wasn’t as electric and moving as others, but that’s just nit-picking.

Overall, this book is an excellent read for anyone looking to ponder what womanhood and gender more broadly even means. I highly recommend!