The best books to remind you that you’re a baddie by yourself

Cheryl Strayed’s Wild came into my life when I was facing a similar-enough crossroads that Strayed had faced in the memoir: Strayed’s mother had passed away and marriage had bottomed out. So, in an effort to find herself, she took off on the Pacific Crest Trail as a solo hiker.

Wild reminded me not only of the resiliency of the human spirit, but that healing is a messy, non-linear process. I was reminded of my own capacity to not only strike out on solo adventures, but battle my own demons. 

“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.”

I read A Room of One’s Own after my divorce and having—for the first time in my entire life—a place that was mine alone to decorate as I pleased. While Virginia Woolf was speaking on the macro, sociological struggles that women were facing during that time (the early 20th century), her words resonated with me to the present day.

Likewise, while it might be easier now for a woman to open a bank account or attend college than it was in 1929, the struggle of having our stories told and our identities outside that of mother or wife celebrated is still prevalent. 

Carine McCandless is the sister of Chris McCandless, the man whose life and subsequent tragic end in Alaska became the basis for the book Into the Wild. While Carine is unapologetic about her memoir exposing the truth behind her abusive family—something that was glossed over when the book was released, but was ultimately the reason Chris had dropped out of college and ran away from home—it would be a disservice to see this memoir as some “tell all” expose on her and Chris’s parents.

While Carine had to navigate losing her brother (and biting her tongue as people made judgement calls on him, not knowing the full story), it’s Carine’s ability to live a full and healthy life on her own that stuck with me the most. From leaving an abusive relationship to running a successful mechanic shop all by herself, Carine consistently reminded me that the wildest truth sometimes lies in our own capabilities.

I’ve been an insatiable fan of Joan Didion’s way with words. Her writing style has always made me feel like I’m simultaneously stepping into a dream world and the cold hard reality at the exact same time.

The Year of Magical Thinking was no different. Didion’s grief following the sudden death of her husband is palpable, and witnessing her navigate that first year without him reminded me that we can be overcome with the hardest emotions and still find a way to press forward.

This list wouldn’t be complete without Eat, Pray, Love, the quintessential memoir about going on a solo adventure after life upends on you. I loved following Gilbert on her adventures from country to country, rebuilding her sense of self after the catastrophic collapse of her last relationship. This memoir, in many ways, helped lay the groundwork for me when it came time to face my own relationship patterns and build up a version of myself that was separate from romantic entanglements.

I was frequently reminded that solo adventures—be it international or internal endeavors—do not mean shutting the rest of the world out. Gilbert makes a lot of wonderful connections during her travels. Humans need other humans; we can be baddies on our own, and still celebrate those that we hold close to us.