Really Good, Actually: A Novel

Monica Heisey's Really Good, Actually plunges its protagonist, Maggie, into the bewildering instability of life after divorce, and amidst the heartache and societal pressures, Maggie embarks on a tumultuous quest for self-discovery, struggling to redefine her fragmented identity. Heisey paints a vivid portrait of a woman navigating loss and societal expectations and ultimately piecing together a new version of herself. Initially, Maggie's identity is dependent upon her marriage, which serves as a cornerstone that defines her social standing, financial stability, and sense of self. However, when this foundation crumbles, Maggie finds herself adrift, grappling with the daunting task of rediscovering her identity beyond societal labels and comparisons. As she admits, "In my marriage I had traded in my essential traits for a series of comparisons: I was the Cranky One, the Bookish One, the One Who Cares If the Towels Are Damp. I wanted a place where I could figure out who I might be next" (54). Stripped of her marital role, Maggie struggles to discern her true essence amidst the wreckage of her former life.

Heisey skillfully uses humor to highlight the absurdity of societal expectations thrust upon divorced women, and many relatable experiences are described as Maggie navigates awkward encounters, unsolicited advice, and the relentless pressure to maintain a façade of positivity. In one instance, Maggie wryly remarks, "My recommendation, if you live in Toronto and your marriage is not working, is to stick it out or move away" (61), and this statement encapsulates the comical yet harsh reality of societal judgment. Everywhere Maggie turns, she finds herself entangled in conversations about her separation, further deepening the chasm between her quest for self-identity and the lingering shadows of her past with Jon.

As Maggie restructures the fragments of her identity, she comes to a profound realization about Jon's indelible imprint on her sense of self. As she states, "Without Jon's playful sparring, my daily life had become less argumentative, and I discovered I preferred it that way. It was hard to learn traits I'd considered mine alone had been forged with or borrowed wholesale from someone else" (181). This introspective moment unveils the intricate interweaving of identities within relationships and the arduous task of disentangling oneself from the remnants of a shared past. The narrative proves that the process can be overwhelming, and Maggie finds herself compelled to surrender to the complexity of her journey.

Maggie's attempts at self-definition are marked by impulsivity and contradiction, reflecting a desperate search for stability amidst the chaos. As she grapples with uncertainties about her personality, preferences, and habits, her attempt to rediscover herself through the now-debunked Myers-Briggs personality test yields inconclusive results. The search for her authentic self thus becomes a labyrinthine journey through many uncertainties and false starts. Compounding this issue, many societal pressures compel Maggie to conceal her raw emotions beneath a façade of forced optimism, further complicating her journey toward self-discovery. Expressing her desire to present a confident front, Maggie reflects, "I wanted to project the image of a together, independent woman […]. Saying 'I am getting a divorce' made me feel like a child clomping around in enormous shoes, my mother's lipstick all over my face" (62). Temporarily surrendering to the overwhelming pressure, Maggie momentarily forsakes her quest for self-discovery, opting instead to fill her days with distractions that shield her from confronting her inner turmoil and examining her true emotions.

Significantly, Heisey eschews drawing Maggie a straight, clear path to self-discovery, instead depicting the protagonist’s journey as messy and nonlinear, rife with regressions and unexpected setbacks. This realistic portrayal underscores the intricate nature of identity formation, highlighting the fact that self-discovery is an ongoing process of growth and acceptance. For instance, Maggie's initial foray into therapy marks a pivotal moment in her quest for self-understanding, yet her first session devolves into a tearful plea for Jon's return. Through the process of therapy, Maggie confronts her belief that she must constantly entertain others, eventually realizing that her experiences and emotions are uniquely hers to process. As Maggie reflects, "almost nothing had ever happened to me that I had not shared with someone else" (311). She therefore comes to the profound realization that she possesses the agency to acknowledge her thoughts and feelings without externalizing them. This epiphany represents a significant milestone, signifying her newfound ability to navigate life's complexities with introspection and resilience rather than reacting impulsively.

Ultimately, Maggie's quest for self-identity transcends the search for a singular answer. Heisey suggests that building one’s identity is a fluid and evolving process shaped by many different experiences and relationships. As Maggie faces the uncertainty of the future, she discovers the freedom and potential inherent in embracing her authentic self. Really Good, Actually therefore offers a thoughtful exploration of self-discovery in the aftermath of personal upheaval. Through Maggie's fragmented identity, Heisey challenges societal expectations and celebrates the messy, nonlinear journey of finding and piecing together one's true self amidst the chaos of life's transitions.