Back in January, my crazy therapist recommended a book to me. I’d heard of it, even seen it on a bookstore shelf or two. I’d seen a woman or two with her nose buried in it at Starbucks or the airport.

“I think you’ll relate to the main character,” said the therapist.

Okay. I’m game. I got it.

I started reading it back in January and finally finished it on the plane to BlogHer.

Don’t take the long span as a reflection on the book though. I just have a hard time reading.

Yes, I spend hours and hours in front of a computer screen at the office and at home. I read all stinking day.

But put me on the couch or between the sheets with words on paper? I’m out cold after three pages.

But, Elizabeth Gilbert shouldn’t take it personally. It’s just me.

The quasi-nonfictional account follows the author’s journey from divorce to healing. Her travels open in Italy (eat), moves to India (pray) and then to Bali (love). The story is quite real, although I imagine that the actual dialogue was recreated.

Although my crazy therapist was wrong on quite a few things, she was right about the book. It did speak to me. Multiple times. She captured a lot of the feelings of fear, anxiety, and bone-rattling doubt that shook me so deeply and made me question every choice I had ever made in my adult life.

There were moments of self-discovery and epiphany. Sometimes it was hard to read because the some of the parallels were so close they nearly overlapped. Granted, my post-divorce recovery did not include Italian lessons in Rome, Texans in ashrams, or sage medicine men. She was childless and came to grips with the realization that she probably was not called to parenthood. While I felt her pain, I couldn’t necessarily identify with that. Even then, her descriptions opened the a door into her emotions and perspective that helped me understand and appreciate a destiny that was not mine.

As far as books go, it was a good read. Not a difficult one. Not necessarily a riveting one either. I could put this book down (granted it was usually sitting on my chest when I woke up, so technically gravity put it down, not me). Some parts were more compelling than others. The pace stalled a bit in the middle, meditative India section, but things picked up toward the end in Bali thanks to some fascinating and amusing characters and events.

Do I recommend it? Yes. Do you need to be in a divorce to enjoy it? No. Should men be worried to see their wives or girlfriends reading it? Probably not. The book is about healing, self discovery and becoming the whole person you’re meant to be in order to love yourself and others fully and completely. What guy wouldn’t want that?