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Jenny Finney Boylen, a self-proclaimed bookish, goofy (outwardly male) college professor, knew from an early age that she was a girl inside — a transgender path she did not follow until she reached her forties. Exactly how that journey unfolded, the changes encountered and the spaces left unfilled cannot help but make for fascinating reading.

Glimpses of this arise as the author describes catching up decades post-transition at her high school reunion.

“It was weird to be back in the big room after all these years with a martini and a vagina.”

Funny in places, heart-tugging in others, the author does not hold back, sharing her thoughts on her move to wholeness, and her leaning on what has held constant.

“The first half of my life was defined by yearnings: I wanted to be loved, and I wanted to be my actual self. I hoped that if the first came true, that the lack of the second would not hurt so much.”

Accompanied by the omnipresent love of her wife, Deedee, (both before and after transition), it’s hard for the reader not to feel slightly awed by the presence of this love at its most pure.

The author reflects on her womanhood as they raise their family of two, (Daddy becoming “Maddy”) — weight and newly experienced female body neurosis; the challenges of fitting in; voice insecurity; fear of violence; aging; shifting authority; love; and the losing/gaining of friends along the way.

“Who are we, now that we are old people, instead of young ones? Does love means something different to me — or to her — now that I am female?”

A fascinating blend of intimate memoir and remedial transgender education for those of us who need it, at the end of the day, this is an insightful, compassionate look at the foibles of personhood — and the ties that bind, rather than cleave us apart.

A great big thank you to #Netgalley, the author and the publisher for an ARC of this book. All thoughts presented are my own.